#and *then* i realise that i need to figure out how many i logically need

[shadow-pixelle]

Love that feeling when you're writing and things are going really well and then suddenly you pause for a moment and realise you need to do math to make things consistent. It's great.

I hate math.

Unrelated but the fact that Star Wars seems to have no idea how big anything is is great fun for needing to count.

[danse--macabre]

unpopular astarion headcanons r.e. mirrors and reflections:

while I love the memes around this, I don't think, unless you had a particularly charismatic tav/durge, the whole party would draw him / contribute to some kind of spell where he could see his reflection. Obviously there's room for difference given how many routes your playthrough can take, but generally: he's not universally loved in the same way Karlach is, he's not the heart of the party, he's mostly clinging to the edge of it (and that's fine!)

I think showing him his reflection would impact him deeply and therefore if it is done at the wrong time/place, he'd actually resent the person who did it. this is because you're making him appear vulnerable.

e.g. if the venue is too public, if the others could see, he'd dislike the fact that others can see a moment of vulnerability

alternatively: if your approval with astarion is too low, he'd automatically distrust it / question your motives. this is someone who simply does not believe that people will be kind unprompted to strangers (because doing so violates his worldview and in some ways makes his abuse feel crueller -- if no one cares, there's a logic to what happened to him, at least)

the more permanent the method, the more effort put in, the more likely he is to have mixed/negative feelings towards it. a sketch is a kindness, but not one that requires a great sacrifice or planning - it's easy to dismiss as a fleeting gesture (while he will keep it, obviously, to look at, because he's not that willing to believe his own bullshit).

in contrast, if a permanent method of showing his reflection was given - e.g. a charmed mirror that casts a spell - I think astarion, with a high approval PC, would feel on some level obligated to pay that 'debt' back. astarion strikes me as someone who distrusts thoughtful, non-flippant gifts because again, he's used to transactional relationships.

I also think it might strike at an insecurity: the knowledge that astarion lacks autonomy/independence to deal with his own issues by himself, and, with some bitterness, is dependent on the PC to help him. if you give astarion an enchanted mirror, he, on some level, feels he is dependent on your magic and your supply of magical items to gain access to an element of his humanity. that doesn't entirely sit comfortably with him.

the "best" way to deal with this? let astarion figure out how to handle this himself. for example: gifting him a 'mirror image' spell scroll or something similar. give him time to study the scroll and he'll find a way to cast that spell himself. mechanically, astarion isn't a wizard, but narratively, his default class is arcane trickster, he has access to magic, I don't think it is really that much of a stretch to believe he could achieve that. in general, I think handing astarion the tools to achieve his own goals by himself will be more appreciated than handing that to him on a plate.

however! counterargument to consider: it may be more valuable in the long run to confront astarion's fear of dependence and the sense of reliance that exists particularly in a tav run, where you the PC have 'saved' him without needing to be saved in return. he needs to realise that the PC isn't expecting anything in return for friendship/romance.

either way, i think showing astarion his reflection is going to be more fraught than one might expect - a generous gift, obviously, he will take (he's been poor and starving enough not to turn it down), but there might be some tension beneath any show of gratitude your receive (or he might feign disinterest, if approval/trust is low enough!)

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Evasively Yours

EVASIVELY YOURS | Azriel x Female!Illyrian!Reader (Part 2 of NEVER YOURS)

SUMMARY: The fallout after Azriel found out you were his mate, and that you kept it from him.

WARNINGS: Angst angst angst. I think I have found my true calling as an angst writer. Swearing. Rhys is the big brother we deserve. Azriel is a bit of an asshole and Mor is a gem.

WORDS: 2.6K

You wished you could stay at the mountain camps forever. The males were training the females as required, with you watching over their teaching techniques and helping the girls out when they needed it. You didn’t mind helping the females – some of them even seemed to be relieved in receiving your assistance. The females were all younger, with the oldest being twenty, and the youngest thirteen. You understood why the older females weren’t training – the backwards ways of the Illyrian people had been ingrained within them for too long.

You extended your stay from two days to three, to four, and on the fifth day, you could tell that you were not going to be welcome much longer. So you packed up, threatened Devlon a little bit, promised to be back to see how the females were faring, and left.

Up in the air, the wind pushed against your wings, almost as if it were telling you not to return to Velaris. Because in the city of starlight awaited the shadowsinger who seemed to want nothing to do with you. Which hurt. So much so, it hurt. There were many ways you could attempt to describe the shredding of your soul, but none of those descriptions would do the pain you felt justice. It was unbearable to think about… so you didn’t.

You arrived in Velaris just before sunset and landed out the front of the River House, leaves and plants rustling at the force of your landing and the final sweep of your wings. Those plants, those flowers and bushes – Elain had planted those. Part of you wanted to rip them out from the roots and burn them, watch as the flames consumed that part of her – but the other part, the more logical side told you not to. This was not Elain’s fault. It was yours.

You entered the River House with a slight droop to your wings as Azriel clouded your mind. You tried to push him away but – how many times had you walked in here for a family dinner, betting on who would start a fight that night? How many times had you walked into this house together, him bumping your shoulder playfully as he chuckled at a joke you told? How many times had you both shushed each other, trying not to laugh too loudly as Nyx slept soundly upstairs? By the Mother, everything seemed to remind you of him now that he wasn’t yours.

Not that he’d ever been yours. That was just wishful thinking on your part.

You turned through the hallways, so consumed by your thoughts that you didn’t even notice someone was in front of you until you bumped into them.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” you apologised, steading them.

You instantly let go as if you’d been burned when you realised it was Elain who stood before you. A bubbling anger rose inside of you, threatening to overcome your logical thinking, but you pushed it down. None of this was Elain’s fault. The only person to blame was you.

“You’re back,” Elain stated with a small smile. “How was your mission?”

Ugh. If only Elain was rude, and didn’t care about you. It would make your life so much simpler if she was easy to hate. But you didn’t hate her. She had always been kind to you, always caring and thoughtful. She was gentle by nature.

You shrugged. “It went… well. I, uh… I have to update Rhys about it.”

“Of course,” Elain acknowledged, a smile still plastered on her pretty face.

You gave her a slightly strained smile and continued on through the house, all the way to Rhys’s office. You knocked this time, and Rhys responded, telling you to come in. You entered and walked up to his desk, the High Lord raising his head to survey you.

“Did it really take five days for you to figure out how to get Devlon to train the females properly?” Rhys questioned as he stood up from his desk.

“He has agreed to train the female properly,” you began, “and I stayed back to make sure he did as he said he would.”

Rhys studied you for a moment before leaning against his desk, arms crossed and eyeing you closely. You stood tall, not allowing him to see the sea of anguish within you, the ocean that churned with your heartache. You couldn’t let anyone ever see this part of you, the part that had once been full of hope and light, but was now shrouded in misery and darkness. And not the darkness you were used to. No, the darkness you were used to was calm and soothing, protective and familiar. This darkness was never ending, tormenting, and devastating.

“You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, you know,” Rhys murmured. “I’m here for you – not as your High Lord, but as your friend. As your brother.”

Your heart swelled at his words and before you could stop it, the tears came tumbling down. Rhys was there instantly, holding you tight as you cried into his shoulder, sobbing and allowing five days’ worth of torture and grief to tumble out in the form of your cries. You held Rhys tight to you, as if he was a lifeline, knowing that if you let go right now you’d be lost in your sea of sorrow forever.

Rhys stroked your hair softly and you tried to get deep breaths into your lungs in an attempt to calm down. You’d cried in front of Rhys before, but you never liked it. Of course, people rarely liked to cry, but it made you feel weak, like all the males who told you that your emotions would get the best of you were right. Because when you were crying, those emotions really did take over. You didn’t feel anything except sorrow and pain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhys inquired.

You looked up at him, at your High Lord, and nearly shook your head. But… he couldn’t look inside your head, lest he see the depths of your suffering. So you took a deep breath, and hiccupped, “Azriel is my mate.” Rhys cocked his head, his only indication of surprise, and you continued, “He – I… he kissed Elain, because I hadn’t told him. I don’t think he knew, and… and he followed me to Windhaven, and then I accidentally told him and now… now he hates me.”

Rhys’s lips twisted. “Why do you think he hates you?”

“You should have heard the way he spoke to me,” you whispered weakly. “He – he’s never spoken to me like that. And he just… left.”

Rhys hummed lowly in thought, and even rubbed his chin. You wiped the tears from your cheeks and sniffed, pulling away from Rhys’s warm embrace. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You wanted solitude, and peace. Peace from your mind, and the thoughts that raged through it like a wildfire, only to be drowned out by the waves of misery that chased you.

“I’m going to go now,” you uttered, rubbing your arms.

Rhys was silent for a moment, before he admitted, “We all guessed, you know.” You looked up at him, and he clarified, “That the two of you were mates.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t really matter anymore. See you, Rhys.”

You left him in his office, and he did not follow. Maybe he knew you were at your breaking point, and that if you had to say one more word about it you might quite literally explode. You exited the River House, shutting the door behind you quietly and took off, your wings lifting you into the air with a single swoop. You glided across the city of starlight and all the way to the House of Wind, where you prayed to the Mother that Azriel would not be. You landed on the balcony, already feeling exhaustion cloud you and your thoughts. Maybe you could sleep peacefully for years and years and never have to face this problem.

Your footsteps echoed on the marble floors of the mountain palace as you made your way to your room, trying to ignore the thoughts that hounded you. You reached your hallway, intending to have a very long bath before getting into bed, when you stopped in your tracks. Azriel stood at the other end of the hall, also seemingly halted.

Now that you could see him, the only thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You just wanted to figure things out, to fix the fracturing of your heart and soul.

“Az–”

But he turned away and into his own room, closing the door with a loud slam, with enough force that you flinched. So maybe he couldn’t be reasoned with. Maybe that was it, maybe him closing the door meant he was closing the door on any possibility that you could work through it.

Because if Azriel couldn’t work through it, then no one could.

So you entered your own room, closing your door with much less force, and stood in the middle of your room. It used to be familiar and comforting, but now… it just reminded you of Azriel. Over there, by the window, the two of you would sit and read when you had a free moment. On the bed, the two of you would lay together after a particularly bad nightmare, comforting each other simply with your presence. 

You left the room and entered your adjoining bathroom, twisting the faucet handle, allowing hot, steaming water to fill the bathtub. You slid out of your leathers and stepped into the tub, hissing slightly at the heat, before lowering yourself down, and resting against the lip and tipping your head back. When the water reached the top, you turned it off and soaked, feeling the water settle around you as you stilled. You grabbed your soap, smelling of lavender and vanilla, and scrubbed yourself down, trying to wash away the grime of the Illyrian camps, as well as the pain of the rejection of the bond.

Because that’s what it was. You could deny it no longer – Azriel wanted nothing to do with you, it was clear as day. He had rejected the bond, and you felt it in your chest, felt the string that bound your two souls weakening. The pain was still there, the anguish and aching, but the bond felt… less. It was as if a veil had come down, shrouding the bond and concealing it from view. You knew it was still there, you could feel it faintly, but… it was as if something was cutting away at it, as if the bond was wilting away. Maybe when it finally did, you’d no longer feel the torment that threatened to overwhelm you.

Something caught your eye as you tried to relax. A shadow, small and harmless, sat in the corner of the room. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the candles were causing the strange silhouette. But you did know better.

“And what do you want?” you hissed.

The shadow recoiled and disappeared, leaving you alone.

You stayed in the bath until the water was cold and urged you to get out. You dried yourself off, the cotton towel soft against your skin, and you opened your drawer in search of sleepwear. You pulled on a pair of comfy pants, and opened the top drawer, freezing as you saw an oversized shirt tucked away, the ebony shade of the item almost hiding it from view. You hesitantly reached out for the fabric, and against your better judgement, picked it up, allowing the cloth to slide between your fingers. You inhaled the scent – night-chilled wind and cedar, with a hint of your own scent – and your hands fisted around it.

You should get rid of it. You doubted Azriel would want it, now that it gave off your smell of lavender and vanilla, so maybe you could burn it. Maybe it would be therapeutic, in a way.

A knock at your door dragged you from your thoughts, and you let out a, “just a minute!” before stuffing the shirt back in your drawer and grabbing another, shrugging in on and not bothering to do up the buttons in the slats, instead letting the clothing hang from your frame as you opened the door.

Mor stood at the door, eyes searching yours in concern. You moved aside to let her in and you shut the door behind her. Her stare never left you, and after a moment she sighed and walked over, motioning for you to turn around. You did as she ordered, allowing her deft fingers to do up the slats of your nightclothes.

“Thanks,” you mumbled once she had finished.

She only hummed in response, care and compassion clear in her warm brown eyes as she studied you. She opened up her arms and you sighed, falling into them. Mor held you tightly, her arms protecting you from the world and all its sorrow. You rested your head against her shoulder as she held you close, and you allowed a single tear to escape. 

“Now, now,” Mor murmured, rubbing your arms. “Starfall is in a few days. Do you have something to wear?”

You smiled at the blonde in thanks as she changed the subject, most likely sensing that you did not want to talk about it. Not now, and maybe not ever. Maybe if you pushed it all down far enough, it would disappear.

“No,” you admitted, “but I’m sure you have something for me.”

“You know me so well,” Mor grinned.

You smiled at your friend and she smiled back, but you could still see concern in her eyes. You could tell her that Azriel rejected the bond, but she’d probably already guessed. Besides, you didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to get lost in talk of dresses and parties and shoes and other useless things, if only to distract yourself from the drowning of your soul.

You felt bad for Lucien. You’d never really thought about how Elain’s rejection of the mating bond had felt for him. You didn’t realise it would be like this, like your soul was screaming and wailing until it could no longer, only to start back up again as soon as it could. You didn’t know it would feel like a stabbing pain in your chest, like someone had jammed a knife up your ribs and into your heart, and was slowly twisting with every minute that passed.

And of course, both of your mates ended up together. Of course the two beings who rejected the bond were together. Because that was what usually happened, right? When a person rejected the bond, it was because they wanted someone else. Had Elain decided, all those years ago when Azriel had first visited the Archeron Estate, that she wanted him? Was that another reason why she rejected Lucien?

It would do you no good to ponder it. So you sat with Mor and gossiped and chatted away until the sun rose, talking of nothing important.

TAGLIST (all users that could not be tagged are in bold) :

@sv0430 @bsenpai @mich0731 @nobody00sthings @vickykazuya @abrunettefangirlnerd @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @elizabethrosecresswell @my-otrand @fuckthatfeeling @im-bili @littlebookbengal @feyretopia @satellitesunshine @marina468 @fartimagines @fussel9913 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @fan-of-many-bands @azriel-luvr @xreaderbooksreads @twsssmlmaa @ilov3sharks @mllemarianne @gamarancianne @holywolfsstuff @shadowsinger-654 @lovra974 @cullenswife @megudragon @fieldofdaisiies @psychobookoholic​

i’m sorry if i forgot anyone, i tried to get them all down <3 Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in part three!!

[10underoot2]

Faithful Lovers

This scene has become one of my favourite things to exist.

I love this scene for the rawness and openess of conversation. It's both of them telling each other with so much conviction why they need the other to see their perspective. It's vulnerable, it's beautifully done, it's art.

The pain in the hug is so palpable but so is the comfort. It's so hard to see her trying to add distance between them - before Hyunwoo pulls her into his embrace - cause she can.not.be.swayed.by.him. Does Hyunwoo apologise for putting her in a situation like this? For not realising just how much she has to lose? Or for being selfish begging her to say yes to this surgery?

Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me want to live. I won't be able to recognize you. I'll become a stranger.

First things first, thank you Kim Jiwon for that delivery. It killed me emotionally, made me cry and want to hug you even more. Protect this beautiful smoll bean at all costs.

Notice how one of the major things that keeps breaking her resolve is him. His love. His understanding. His physical being. Yet the only thing stopping her from living is also him . His memories. His love. Him.

When he tries to convince her that she will fall in love with him again her little head shake says 'But it won't be the same.' I love how it isn't written off as Oh I know I'll be able to love you. She has doubts. So many of them. I think just the idea that she could wake up and lose her ability to love him is unbearable to her. What if she can't love with the same intensity? Not feel what she feels right this moment? What if she looks into his eyes after the surgery and feels like she would rather forget him than die? Haein knows how much Hyunwoo's put into ensuring she lives yet she rather experience that love than throw it all away on a chance.

But Hyunwoo is defiant. He's not taking no for an answer. He can't anymore. He hates that she won't listen to him. That she's having doubts. Isn't it common sense? He'll be there. They'll figure it all out. She'll be alive. It's such an interesting and logical perspective to have 'as long as there is life anything can happen.' because once she's dead that's it.. it's the end. But if she's alive, the possibility and capacity of love still exists.

Even if you don't fall for me, ignore me or dislike me I'll still be there for you through it all. Why doesn't this kid understand that's exactly why she can't agree to it. She can't bear the possibility of that happening.

I think Hyunwoo shines when he says 'I made a promise. That I'd be by your side even if there's a debt or something more. So don't worry and just stay here please.'

Notice how this is directly in contrast with what she says right at the beginning 'We make promises in good times thinking they'll never end.' But Hyunwoo remembers and he's willing to be there through it all.

Don't pray about dying. I'm terrified it'll come true.

She's praying to die. Let that sink in. For a man who believes enough to pray for her to be saved, when her death is so imminent - almost a fact, this is indeed terrifying. I feel his fear and pain. Good grief, she's praying to die when there's such a big possibility of exactly that. She accepted her fate and he's willing to fight tooth and nail to change it. It's a tesimtiment to how many times he's spent thinking of a life without her. He's convincing her to rid of their memories. I know he's aware of exactly what it means. The chances they're taking but the idea of not seeing her again is so unbearable for him.

I love Haein's strong mindedness. She didn't budge. Her last look for me read 'I get it. I get it all but just no. I can't lose you. Please don't cry and make this harder. Don't make me want to live.' and with that she hardens her heart as she steps away and takes her hand from him.

While this man, ouff this man. Can we take a moment to appreciate the sheer desperation on his face. After she signals no again he's so helpless. 'Please, please see me and live, if only for me. I cannot fathom this earth without you.' Seriously, we all need to take a minute to appreciate his desperation throughout this scene. The woman that he loves, his ideal women won't agree to stay alive because she loves him too deeply. Just writing this hurts me.

It's interesting this scene works because by now we know where they both stand in this episode. For me, the reason this scene shines is the vulnerability - the two of them having this extremely open and confrontational confession. When scenes like this are executed and written well it creates everlasting frames like this.

Also they both suck at praying. If you're praying just pray to keep her alive and keep her memories intact. Why are they picking and choosing? It's not like God has a limit to what he can do. Truly nonsense prayers from both of them. 🙃

Gif credits: @jcpostsobsessions and @seawherethesunsets

[hwaightme]

I’ve been thinking of mentioning offhandedly to best friend!Yunho that you imagine romantic scenarios to help you sleep. You complain that it’s a little embarrassing and you hate that you kind of depend on them now.

He asks you questions out of genuine intrigue at first because he’s never heard of that before. “Who do you imagine?” “Celebrities, sometimes it’s just vaguely attractive men.” “And are you guys like kissing or what?” “Maybe? Most times they’re just comforting me or doing something for me. Honestly most of the time I just want to be cuddled.”

I feel like you don’t mean for it to be a desperate request, but Yunho takes it that way. Then he asks you if him cuddling you would help you sleep. You know… just so you don’t have to make up scenarios anymore. Totally not in a super adorable caring boyfriend-esque type of way.

ooOoooOh this- oh i can so see it- this is so so sweet ;~; and would be very like yunho to then try as he might to figure out a way to be that "dream" guy, so to speak~ with him realising only when he is in too deep that he is literally turning into a boyfriend but not officially your boyfriend but he is acting like one and wants to be one

thank you so much my love!!! more thoughts below (wc. 630 oops):

i feel like this would happen while you are watching a romance film/anime together one night, and get into a conversation about 'dreaming of love'. maybe it is because you are a little sleepy and so your filters have gone down, or maybe it is because it is yunho you are talking to, you end up sharing what you have never told anyone before.

"i mean... it is sweet, and it does stop the brain noise, but i feel like it is just... another type of noise. ugh, not sure why i even-"

"oh no no, continue," you fail to hear any hint of judgement from him, in fact, if anything, he looks curious, and prior drowsiness from having watched multiple episodes in a row has evaporated.

you end up explaining, slowly, tentatively, what these dreams and thoughts entail, while yunho tries to picture what it would be like, until...

"...most of the time i just want to be cuddled." while other things you mentioned are a little more abstract, or at least you positioned them as such, this mention of cuddling, innocent affection, safety, closeness sets off what can only be described as a firework or a fuse being blown in yunho's brain.

he doesn't know why he is affected by your comment, but he is. at the same time, he feels guilty, because how could he, your best friend of who knows how many years, not have noticed such a thing? it must be that he does not hug you enough, right? totally... totally best friend duties which he now must fulfil and exceed in.

is there any logic to his internal arguments? no, not really, but it feels natural when you start to shy away and he clicks his tongue, smiles, and pulls you towards him. you pretend to squirm away, mumbling that now you definitely want the earth to open beneath you because "how dare you pity and make a joke out of my vulnerability jeong yunho", but he gingerly holds you and you feel too comfortable hiding in his arms.

"uhm... well... you said you don't want to be dependent on it... right?"

"yeah?" you answer, focusing on the soft thrum of his heart right against your ear, and the mumbling television in the background, long-forgotten.

"how about i.. help you... have a kind of holiday? from the scenario building?"

"what exactly are you suggesting..." you start to push away, but only manage to go back just enough to gaze up at yunho's face. you notice he is biting his lip again - nervous, in thought. what is he considering?

"nothing weird! just, i guess kind of like now, if you need a cuddle or whatever..."

"professional cuddler yuyu, now that's fresh."

as if yunho would stop there. slowly but surely, one thing after another shifts in your relationship, but it never goes out of bounds or feels out of line. cautiously, yunho sees what boundaries there are and tentatively tests them - many situations in which this happens you two have conquered before. grocery shopping, road trips, trips to gaming cafes... except now, more and more often, you feel his hand graze or remain on yours, and generally, yunho's presence feels a lot more real, a lot more personal, and a lot less friend-like.

one thing is for certain: now, when you got to sleep, be it while watching another film with yunho or listening to him attempting to play valorant with a relatively peaceful attitude, or even alone, the scenarios of celebrities and abstract figures are long gone. because now, the last thought of your night and the first thought of your morning are both

yunho

accompanied by the sweet nothings that he whispers to you when he thinks you are already in dreamland.

[ohnococo]

Any Time, Any Place | Ino x Reader

Another date with Ino ends in fucking somewhere you could easily get caught.

❥ WC: 1.7k

❥ Warnings: Established relationship, fem bodied reader (no pronouns used, reader is in a dress), public sex, outdoor sex, vaginal sex, making out, creampie, petnames (baby, reader is told they are pretty and perfect)

Ino is the type of person that always makes you feel comfortable, like it’s just the two of you no matter where you are. That’s why, despite his occasional step into more traditional date night territories like fancy restaurants, you always wind up preferring the more casual nights with him. Late night chats as you amble along city pavements, a drink and a laugh on his balcony, hands all over each other in some random parking lot because you just had to find somewhere to stop and feed your whims.

He just has a knack for finding these wide open spaces and managing to make them feel so intimate and private. No matter how many times it happens, it still has a dizzying effect on you. Like you’re already in too deep before you even realise it, and the moment has passed from casual to something more in the blink of an eye, leaving you both on the same page of needing each other no matter your surroundings. Those moments leave you feeling eternally like some lovesick teen, caught up in everything but logic. The fact that he very much seems to feel the same leaves you with no chance of worrying about anything but the two of you, together.

You still haven’t figured out if he means for you two to wind up testing the limits of what you can get away with in public so often, but whether it’s intentional or Ino just being hopelessly enamoured with you, the result is far from unwelcome.

Because with Ino, only his eyes matter—even if at this particular location you can’t help taking a peek around the park bench you two had settled on to enjoy the warm summer night. He notices your glances, because he always notices if you aren’t completely comfortable, and is quick to check in and reassure you.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” He smiles, arms out and palms upward as if presenting himself to you to be assessed as an appropriate bodyguard, and when you laugh his smile only widens as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s not that, I’m just looking out for geese.”

It’s his turn to laugh now as he’s reminded of the memory of a daytime picnic in this very park that ended with an encounter with a very aggressive goose.

“They’ll be sleeping over by the pond. And, I’d fight any curse or attacker brave enough to bother us.” His confidence falters a little, as he recalls how fleeing had been the route chosen the last time he’d had an opportunity to defend you. “I just didn’t really want to hurt a goose, y’know?”

“A goose wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you.”

“And it did hurt me…” he feigns a look of pain, or embarrassment, but you know he isn’t really feeling either. He’s as comfortable with you as he always hopes you’ll be with him.

“You survived. You always do.” You press into his side and he holds you close, squeezing at your arm protectively.

Then he gives you another of his disarming smiles and it’s the last curtain drawn over any worries of passerby, human or fowl or otherwise. With that, this place is just for the two of you right now, so you focus on him fully and start to veer back onto the track of your previous conversation, only to be immediately stopped when Ino starts giving you that look and you know he wants to kiss you now.

The way he manages to look both far off and like he’s taking in every minute detail of your face at once makes your heart race, and his gaze drifts towards your mouth only to be pulled back to your eyes as he tries his very best to be attentive. And really, he is—always listening, always interested in whatever you’re talking about just because it’s you. It’s just sometimes his body gets the better of his brain. Not that you mind.

“Sorry, but…”

You raise your brows, smile growing on your face as you know exactly what he’s getting at, but you enjoy watching him try to reckon with how badly he needs to touch you sometimes.

He lets out a huff, more of a laugh at himself than any sign of frustration, and uses the arm around your shoulders to pull you closer with a soft sigh of, “C’mere.”

Whatever was happening before is long gone now, as his soft lips against yours always seal the deal. He’s slow, and sweet with his kisses, even if his body telegraphs his sudden desperation. Nose brushing against yours, one hand firm on your shoulder, the other rubbing much more gently at your thigh, lips parting from yours every so often so he can smile to himself and look at how pretty you are when you let him touch you like this. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, and from first contact your mouth is already opening with the positive response he always earns from you.

As always, you forget yourselves; where you are, what you came here for, how long you’ve had his lips against yours. And as always, Ino starts slotting words between your kisses, little breathy ramblings of ’please’, ’you’re so pretty’, ’need it’.

It makes your head spin and your pussy clench all in one, and when he next brings himself to part his lips from yours, the look he gives you is the final straw to break your composure entirely. Happy, drunk almost, like there’s nothing in the world he wants more than your body, like he just might perish if he doesn’t get it.

And as you look in his eyes, glistening under the stars as he manages to be so desperate for it that he’s a little misty-eyed, you realise that the feeling is mutual. Next thing you know, you’re pulling your dress up and climbing onto his lap.

“Already, baby?” He never shies away from an opportunity to meet you with mouth or hand, wanting you to get yours before you’ve even started touching him, but you answer with your actions—and your intentions of riding him until the warm night air knows his name.

You slide back far enough on his knees that he can work his cock out of his pants as you pull your panties to the side. If you were thinking clearly you’d be worried about how it wasn’t really that late at night, and some other nighttime walkers could easily happen upon you. But you aren’t thinking clearly, and neither is Ino, so you raise yourself onto your knees and slide down onto his cock.

He lets out a hiss, looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and once you’re settled fully onto him he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and burying his face in your chest.

“Babyyyyy, you’re so perfect.” His voice is muffled, but you make out his words well enough to chuckle at them. The way it makes you clench around him makes him whine into your skin, starting to rut up into you.

For as desperate as his words against your breasts are, and how his hands squeeze and rub along the contours of your back, his thrusts are slow. The embrace he holds you in serves to help him lift you, just slightly, and he gasps at losing even a little of your warmth, before he’s rocking up into you and pulling you back down on him in tandem. Once you pick up the pace he’s set, taking over movements entirely as you speed up with your panting breaths, his face unburies itself from your chest, and he looks out of it already.

“You make it so hard to keep quiet…”

At this point you’d forgotten you were even in a place that would require such a thing, but far past caring you rock your hips faster, running your fingers through his hair and letting a few unhindered moans loose.

“I don’t want you to be quiet.”

“Oh?” He looks like you’ve just told him you love him, surprised and happy with bolstered confidence. That lopsided grin of his goes straight to your core, and when you clench at him again he lets his own unrestrained sound loose.

That’s that then, all the go ahead you both need to pant and whine and moan into each other’s open mouths. It’s as if your bodies act on their own, holding each other, loving each other, and true to your silently and suddenly laid plans when you first climbed atop Ino, you cry out his name as you start to struggle keeping your pace as your body tightens and aches to finally reach its peak.

The sound of his name from your lips is all he needs though, meeting your movements half way, kissing at your cheeks and chin, anywhere that will let him keep hearing you say his name, until you’re both seeing stars at once. His hands grip your waist tightly, bunching up your dress as he whines against your skin and fills you with sloppy thrusts, and you cling to him tightly, tugging at his shirt and squeezing him til he’s spent.

He buries his face between your breasts again, nuzzling, his breath much more humid than the night air, and as you come down from your highs the sounds of the wind in the trees reminds you of where you are, and that you should perhaps not linger in such a state.

It doesn’t stop Ino from whining a little when you move from his lap, quickly moving your panties back into place to hopefully catch as much of his cum as you can. Likewise he tucks himself away, leaning heavily against the back of the bench, and when you start to stand he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you back down next to him.

“Let’s chill here for a bit, we don’t look like we’ve been up to anything.”

You don’t, not after you straighten your dress and lean against his side. You reckon he doesn’t either once you quickly reach up to comb your fingers through his hair back into place. Then you rest your head against his shoulder, content, safe, in your own little world with your boyfriend.

banners by @//cafekitsune

[mandoalorian]

but daddy i love him!

Based on the song by Taylor Swift.

Javier Peña x F Reader

WC: 1500

Warnings: abusive parents, mentions of slut shaming

Masterlist

Please reblog if you love Javi and/or Taylor!

In the heart of Colombia's tumultuous landscape, Javier Peña found himself entwined in a love affair that defied all logic and reason. He was the seasoned DEA agent, battle-worn and weary, while you were the enigmatic beauty who danced through life with a reckless abandon that both fascinated and terrified him. Your love was a whirlwind, sweeping you up in its tempestuous embrace, defying the boundaries of convention and societal norms. As whispers of disapproval echoed through the streets, you clung to each other, determined to forge your own path.

From the moment you met, sparks flew like wildfire, igniting a passion that neither could extinguish. Javier was drawn to your fiery spirit, your fearlessness in the face of danger, while you found solace in his strength, his unwavering dedication to his cause.

Before you decided to tell your family about your relationship, you and Javier embarked on a journey to your childhood home. The drive was long, the miles stretching out before you like an endless ribbon of asphalt. But with Javier by your side, the miles seemed to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the promise of a new beginning.

As you pulled up to the familiar house that held so many memories, you felt a sense of trepidation wash over you. Javier reached over and squeezed your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the present moment.

“They— they’ve never supported me, my family,” you admitted, flushing with heat as you stepped up to your porch. It wasn’t so much shame that filled you, than it was regret. You wished you’d told Javier this sooner.

“You are doing the right thing cariño, telling them the truth. Telling them about us. If they don’t like it then that’s on them, but they’ll never come between our love.” Javier brushed his thumb over your jaw and planted a chaste kiss atop your lips.

You hummed and smiled against his mouth, letting yourself linger before pulling away. Javier was right. God, your family drove you crazy. They drove you manic. And you figured, fuck it, if they don’t like you and Javier then that would be it. Fuck them. You were happy and you deserved this.

Together, you walked up the path to the front door, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. The door swung open, revealing the familiar faces of your family members, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.

And then, as you sat in your childhood home, surrounded by familiar faces, you took a deep breath and prepared to reveal your secret...

But first, you sat down at the dinner table with Javier and your parents. Your father was a newly retired DEA agent and had for sure heard about Javier’s reputation. In fact, he was the one who warned you about Javier in the first place. And now, with his greatest fears realised, Javier was sat at the forefront of the table facing your dad, twirling the pasta around his silverware, idly.

"Mom, Dad, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Let me guess, you’re sleeping with Peña?” Your dad grumbled crudely. “Well, he’s just had about every girl in Bogota, I suppose it was about time he got around to you.”

Javier made a fist but stayed silent. He didn’t have to speak, because you would defend his honour.

“I’m in love with him, daddy.” You said quietly. You weren’t going to fight it. You’d spend your whole life fighting for your parents love and celebration, but now that you had Javi, you didn’t have to anymore.

“You can’t be in love with him. He’s a killer.” Your mother spat.

“Acting like you didn’t marry a killer too, mama,” you quickly countered, narrowing your eyebrows. “I love him.”

With a sleuth of slurs leaving your father’s mouth, about how you were a slut and a disgrace to the family, you decided it was time for you to go.

But not without a bang.

“And there’s something else you should know… I’m having his baby.”

Javier’s eyes snapped to meet yours. Your mother’s complexion greyed and you thought your father might burst a blood vessel. And then, you couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t hold the joke for too long. You saw your father near cardiac arrest.

“No I’m not! But you should see your faces.” You laughed and Javier felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Your sudden burst of laughter was tinged with mania as you stood up, chair scraping against the oak floor, and grabbed your purse.

Your family stared at you in disbelief, their expressions shifting from shock to confusion. But you could see the relief in their eyes, a fleeting glimpse of understanding that you knew would never last.

As you left your childhood home behind, the weight of your deception heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. For you had tested their loyalty and found it lacking, confirming what you had always known deep down.

And as you walked away, hand in hand with Javier, you knew that you were bound together by something far stronger than blood or obligation. You were bound by love, a love that would endure against all odds.

Years passed, and your love only grew stronger with each passing day. Despite the challenges you faced, you stood by each other's side, weathering every storm that came your way.

And then, on a warm summer day, you stood together on a secluded beach, the sun setting in a blaze of orange and gold. With the sound of the waves crashing against the shore as your witness, you exchanged vows of love and commitment, promising to stand by each other for all eternity.

It was just the two of you, alone in your love, with no one else to bear witness to your union. For you had learned that true love didn't need the approval of others, that it was enough to have each other.

And as you danced beneath the stars, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that you had found your happily ever after, against all odds.

[lemotmo]

Queer-coded Eddie Diaz theory

Okay, walk with me here. I have this theory.

I’ve been thinking about what Lou said in his interview. He said that the Tommy storyline was initially meant for Eddie. (Which still sets me reeling whenever I think about it.) But they changed their mind because something fell through and they decided to give the storyline to Buck. Which I’m happy about to be honest. Eddie is a whole different case of ‘being in the closet’. That man will need a lot more time to come to terms with his sexuality than Buck.

But, let’s imagine they would have stuck with the Eddie/Tommy storyline:

Obviously Marisol would have quietly disappeared in between seasons and Eddie would have been single again.

They hired Lou, a big bulky white man, to play his love interest. I know that we often say that Eddie is the Latin Lou, but he could also be a slightly bigger Buck (if you squint).

They would have bonded over the many shared interests and their army past. From there on their romance would have started and bloomed.

Buck would have probably still been with Nathalia or perhaps he would have also been single. Not sure about that. It would have depended on the actress being available or not.

In his interview, Tim Minear has stated that Buck has always been queer-coded, from season 1 on.

So, if we follow that line of thinking, wouldn’t Eddie have been queer-coded as well? Because, after all, he would have been the one in a romantic relationship with Tommy.

And then what? Would Buck have found his inner bisexual by being jealous of Eddie and Tommy? Like something we saw play out in 7x04. Everyone would assume, in the beginning, that Buck was just jealous of having to share Eddie’s attention with Tommy. But then, after a few episodes, it would have been revealed that he was actually in love with Eddie? Because, remember, according to Tim Minear, Buck has always been queer-coded. So it would only be logical to continue the storyline like that. Especially because everyone seems to lean into it this season. Oliver, Ryan, Tim and even Lou have been talking about Buddie.

Then what? Would Eddie have found out about Buck? Would he have realised that he loved Buck back, breaking up with Tommy, only to be with Buck? Or would Tommy have set him free from the relationship?

See the logic here? If Buck has always been queer-coded, why did they plan to have Eddie come out? It doesn’t make any sense, UNLESS Eddie has always been queer-coded as well (whether gay, demisexual or something else).

Now, if we go back to the current story that is playing out on our screens right now. If we take the above Eddie/Tommy scenario and change it to Buck/Tommy, then it would only be logical for the second character that has also been queer-coded since season 2 (Eddie) to end up with the other queer-coded character, now established bisexual (Buck).

Whichever way you look at it, all roads eventually lead to Buddie.

Mind you, this is only my train of thought and my opinion. Also no hate on Tommy or Buck/Tommy. This is just something that has been slow cooking in my brain ever since those articles from Tim and Lou came out. Couple that with Ryan’s interview, where he clearly states that Eddie has lived a very different life from Buck. He talks about how Eddie always looks for a mom-figure for Christopher in a relationship, and that he has always lived a ‘straight’- laced life. But that he is slowly discovering parts about himself he didn’t know were there in the first place. And now with the whole ‘catholic guilt’ storyline suddenly popping up out of nowhere, it just would make so much sense for Eddie to be some flavour of queer.

It would set up such an interesting storyline for his character as well. He would potentially struggle with his feelings, a lot more than Buck ever did. He might even have problems with accepting that side of himself. But ultimately it would all come down to Buck and his feelings for him. And Eddie has always been brave, so he would eventually own up to it and tell Buck.

All of this makes so much sense to me and I can't shake it.

Tell me, am I losing my mind here? Has 911 and Buddie finally broken me beyond repair? Have I boarded the train to delulu-land? Talk to me.

[uneednotknow]

Vaughn Morozov

A hc of what I imagine him to be like.

Vaughn Morozov, the Pakhan's heir. The Gentleman of the Bratva. The Manipulator. The Mastermind.

He isnt necessarily silent and quiet but he doesn't talk much, either. He got the manners, the charm and the etiquette of what one would call the ideal man. He has the looks, the body, the height, the hair and the money. But above all he is responsible and a smart man.

He knows when and how to use his charm especially in terms of business to either get the deal done or to deceit. He knows and plans things so effortlessly well, its almost flawless. He is also 10 steps ahead of everyone. He is analytical and calculative. A Mastermind. He rules the game, the world and the people, and he would do it so easily that they won't even realise it.

He isnt known as the gentleman for no reason. He is respectful and straightforward. Unlike most of the ruthless men in the Bratva, who springs to brutal actions almost immediately, he is calm. He resorts to let the mind games play, he likes messing up the mentality of the people, because he understands that mental pain is possibly more cruel and painful than physical pain. He resorts to quietly finishing the job because he isnt a fan of showcasing his work to the people.

He is so eloquent with his words and works. He dont need to talk much to get people to his side. He is a man of his words but mostly a man of actions. He won't hesitate to strike when nobody is looking, he won't hesitate to manipulate and make things work out on his favour.

He is a smart man, he knows what strings to pull, what steps to take. And it all comes from being a logical thinker, it comes from having parents who are one of the most important figures in the Bratva, he knows he needs to be well aware of his surroundings in case trouble strikes. It comes from seeing situations through every looking glass. It comes from being a great born-leader.

He likes to keep the side of his street clean and that's very hard to maintain especially being in the mafia. But nobody knows what happens to people who has crossed him or his loved ones. You just know they have suffered gravely. He keeps his business private. Those who needs to know will know and that's it.

He drives. Really, really well. The Mercesdes-Benz, his parents got him for his 18th birthday is one of his prized possessions. He dont ask for much from his parents, he rarely does. Mostly because they have provided him with all that he needed. And it's because he doesn't want to leech off people, he doesn't want to ask things from anyone when he knows he is equally capable of being able to do things for himself.

When he is in the UK, he rides his bike, going for joy rides with them. Though he maybe the youngest, he is undoubtedly a brilliant and mature one. Sophisticated and intimidating, Vaughn enjoys his chase. But he also let's down his guard and takes in the fresh air of youth, he knows how to enjoy his life while learning not to be vulnerable in the eyes of the people.

He can cook, clean, fend for himself. He is self-sufficient and has learned from a young age that there is no other way to success other than hard work along with smart work.

He likes to read. He like to solve puzzles, play chess, watch crime documentaries and just solve anything that needs to be solved. Maybe that's boring for most but that's how he keeps his brain to actively work and think strategically.

He is also athletic, joining the school's sports team to keep himself physically fit. He may not be the best at it but he is above average, he plays football, basketball, tennis. Exceptionally great at ice hockey (according to my headcannon.)

Because he likes to keep himself updated with the people around him and the world, he knows many things about people. If he wants he can extract informations that people have tried their best to hide too.

He might even enlist in the military, just like his mom and dad and climb ranks, but he might not stay long to accomplish that, maybe for 2 or 3 years. Because he has other responsibilities. But he will be there for the experience and knowledge.

He is academically thriving as well. Taking up computer science, physics or any of the challenging STEM subjects, because like mentioned above he likes to keep his brain to actively work to find solutions.

He is without a doubt a great son and a great friend. He won't say it out loud but he will, for sure, be their for people who needs him. Be it for advise or just be there for them. He is a great companion to his dad, helping him with works, though his father never asks him to burden himself with such works at a young age. He is a great son to his mom, driving her to places, going shopping for anything, helping his mom around the house though they have people for that.

He is the type of son, whose parents need not worry about him doing the wrong thing or being in thr wrong place. They only worry about him over working himself. He likes to be in his best behaviour, be the best in what he do.

Overall, Vaughn Morozov, is a man, who obviously has his flaws but doesn't shy away from correcting himself and move forward to be better and stronger.

He made a cameo and im intrigued by him. But honestly, as much as I want to read about him judging by how RK has disappointed some(most) of her characters in their own books, I'm afraid she might do the same to Vaughn too. So in a way, it's better to leave him as he is, but at the same time he seems to be a character full of potential, to me at least.

Anyways, thank you for reading my previous post.

Hope you enjoy this as well.

[passionartx]

Hi!! Firstly, I LOVE your Tangled AU, so glad to see Tails getting more focus in AU’s. I wondering: Do you have any general Tails related headcannons?

Hiya! 💛✨ Thank you so, so much! And ooo this is such a fun question. Tbh, I have too many, I could write an essay! This account isn’t as popular as my au blog since I’m pretty inactive on it so probably only like 3 people will see this… but I hope those hypothetical 3 people enjoy my inevitable waffle and chaos! <3

Will also use this opportunity to hype up some friends and people who’s work I admire!!!

A few of my favourite Tails Headcannons! :

- I love the idea that him and Sonic were 4 and 11 when they first met.

- Sonic will always be Tails’ big brother first and foremost… however, as Aosth Tails put it: “You’re my mom, you’re my dad and you’re my picket fence!”. Sonic having accidentally become the closest thing Tails has to a parental figure has a hold on my heart and I love how writers like @chaoxfix and my homie @myyla-x portray this in their fics!

- After having first met (and honestly even a few years in) if Sonic ever had to leave Tails alone for a while for whatever reason, maybe to protect him from a particular battle, Tails would deal with hardcore abandonment issues. Poor lil guy would fear Sonic wouldn’t come back, that he didn’t want him around anymore (which is made 10 times worse if you headcannon he was abandoned by his parents). Lil guy wouldn’t know what to do with himself <\3

- Tails reminds Shadow of Maria. Probably my favourite Tails headcannon! Though I guess it’s more of a Shadow headcannon… am I using this as an excuse to talk about it? More likely then you’d think. But ahh, those blue eyes, yellowish fur, sweet gentle childlike wonder, love of life and learning + Ian flynn has confirmed given her upbringing Maria was prob a bit of a science kid. Ah <3 Plus that brings the idea of Sonic and Tails’ dynamic reminding him of his with Maria’s and that makes me want to cry. I actually have a WIP fic about this headcannon but it’s been a wip for like a year… hopefully one day I’ll finish it cause I’m literally obsessed with the idea and want to see it through.

^ Also extra nostalgic about this headcannon cause my friendship with @sh-0-w-1-sh literally started cause they were looking for art ideas and I was like TAILS REMINDING SHADOW OF MARIA!!! And here we are almost a year later!

- For better or for worse he’s picked up a lot of his big bros traits. I’m talking puns, poses, that lil nose rub and foot tapping, occasional cockiness, being self sacrificial, the list goes on. Once he realises this or anyone else especially Sonic points it out, he’d probably be super embarrassed and deny it <3

Speaking of picking up habits…

- While he would definitely be scared by certain situations like this ( << the Starline issue 35 and 36 situation being a good example with other people being at risk and him not really understanding the situation or his role in it ) I think Tails would be pretty desensitised to being kidnapped or hostage situations at this point. He’d probably just find it an inconvenience more then anything or be entertained by the hypothetical villains incompetence. Me and @myyla-x had a conversation about this idea once and… it’s been like 6 months and we’re still talking about it. One day that’ll make sense. We got a lil carried away. Just a lil. Anyway someone get this kid therapy. <3

- An already pretty popular one but I felt the need to mention it cause I relate, but he gets so sucked into projects and his inventions that hours and hours can go by and he just zones out and forgot to eat… well, anything but mints at least.

- Tails is a theatre kid. :D Is this self projection? … maybe. If nobody else gets me @guiltypandas gets me <3 :,)

- I think Tails would be in denial if Sonic died. As smart and logical as that little guy is, given how Sonic has beat the unbeatable, has come back before and seems invisible… yeah. <\3 I think he’d always hold onto the hope that it would only be a matter of time until Sonic comes back… even if this time that wouldn’t be the case… my friend @whitecatindisguise actually wrote an amazing fic about this when we talked about the idea called He’s (Not) Coming Back (which if you haven’t already you should totally check out cause it’s amazing! And a heart breaking! The best kinda fic :,) )

- I think Tails has a heart of gold…but I also think depending on certain circumstances if he hadn’t have met Sonic he could have gone down a much darker path (which I guess ended up being somewhat proven with Nine in Sonic Prime!). Me and @casperangel have screamed about this too many times then I can count and it haunts me.

- Tails is a sweetie, a cutey patooty, like an adorable little house cat… but similarly (and yet again as proven thanks to Prime!) Tails definitely has a feral side. Especially if he hasn’t gotten enough sleep or gets his mints confiscated. @dunkinbublin and @studioboner ‘s accounts are absolute goldmines when it comes to Tails multitasking being an adorable lil guy and a feral lil menace!

- Tails and Tangle have sibling energy! I mean, Tails is basically everyone’s adopted little brother, Knuckles and Amy especially, but I think him and Tangles dynamic isn’t talked about enough and I’m super glad we’ve had some sweet moments with them in the comics! @pocketscribbs is feeding the Tails and Tangle nation fr <3

This was super fun! Thank you so much again for asking and I hope you have an amazing day! And if someone actually read all of this… you’re a trooper :,) <3

[charmac]

curious - do you think rcg may have had any notion that they may seriously explore the possibility of mac being gay in s6 era? s5 functionally lays the majority of groundwork for the subtext that they evolved into canonical text and s6 opens with mac fights gay marriage and imo mac is pretty heavily gay coded throughout that season. however, s7 totally makes me believe they hadn’t really considered it, because mac’s gay subtext is almost completely nonexistent, bar the flashback from s6 in 7x10. he is overtly “straight” that season. clearly by s8 it’s fully canon and one of the most logical next steps they could’ve taken with his character in retrospect, but i have always wondered if many of the choices in s6 wrt mac’s sexuality becoming increasingly more ambiguous were deliberate and i’m curious about your perspective.

I do 100%! I've definitely spoken about this before... I'm not sure if it was here or a Discord or maybe even an in-person conversation, but I've always thought it was so insane how they tell you Mac and Dennis Break Up is romantic in some sense. They are realising that their codependency is more than some "bromance" and it spooks them (obviously, really more-so Dennis).

I think acknowledging it on TASP isn't a surprise, but the fact that it's stated in the DVD commentary, before they even filmed S6, makes it clear that this was intentional foundation they intended to work off of. When Dee shatters the glass closet by stating Dennis' codependency with Mac is viewed as an "old married couple" situation, it fucks Dennis up way more than Mac, because Mac is unable to recognise the queerness of their relationship while Dennis can.

Once they make up, they've established something in the writers room going forward for Mac & Dennis that they clearly want to keep a part of their dynamic (again, as reaffirmed on the MADBU TASP episode): they are gay for each other. But they're not going to (mutually) recognise or accept it, because that ruins the joke.

So, in my opinion, they go into Season 6 really digging into that dynamic and playing on the joke by pushing against it: Dennis recognises the issue of being into Mac internally so he needs a wife; Mac recognises the issue of being gay externally so he needs to fight the gays. No doubt in my mind that throughout S6 they were writing and acting with this idea - though probably with no firm idea of where they wanted it to end up.

So we get to Season 7, and your point is the reason why Season 7 is one of my least favourite Seasons as a coherent part of Sunny (keeping in mind the flashbacks in How Mac Got Fat are just a scrapped S6 episode, reworked) - it seems to ignore a lot of the build up in order to make funny stand-alone episodes of the show. Was it because of Fat Mac? (Only one identity at a time for Mac, pls!) Is it because they had a chunk of guest writers? Is it because they thought there was a large chance it was the final season of the show? (They've talked about how when they shot the final scene for S7 (HS Reunion) it was under the idea that they might not get renewed)

Probably only RCG truly know (and maybe they don't even remember). As for me, while I don't think it was necessarily deliberate, like they sat down and said "actually lets roll back the gay [Mac] stuff here..." my idea is that going into S7 they hadn't yet figured out (or couldn't agree) if/how they wanted to make Mac's homosexuality crystal clear.

Maybe they dropped it for a season before deciding... or maybe this downtime served a purpose, because the reveals on Sunny serve one main goal: Subvert expectations.

Going from S5/6 to 8 is very obvious. That is a closeted gay guy. BUT when you have S7 cut in there in the middle, this working-season where they kind of play hard into Mac's aggressive temper and his stupidity and the fact that he's a voyeur, it's a little less-so. You're hit with Season 8 and that attempted kiss kind of comes out of nowhere and then every episode following has some kind of Mac is GAY moment and it's just extremely funny... Like, oh holy shit he's gay and he can't even recognise it.

But that gap does kinda throw you off like, was this a decision once they got renewed going forward that they needed one of them to be obviously gay based on their history? I really don’t think so, the foundation seems too intentional and the evidence we have that RCG acknowledged the character’s queerness (of all them) back then is enough to have me firmly believe the S6 stuff was just further groundwork for Mac’s character and his and Dennis’ opposing relationship

[extremely-judgemental]

I haven't felt so strongly about a book for so long as I do about the ACOTAR series. The more I think about it, the more I believe it has everything to do with the writing itself than the characters.

Someone once said SJM's book are about her characters and analysing the plot for logic would definitely lead to disliking the series. I don't know about her other books, but I can say for sure that since ACOMAF, to her, the characters are nothing but carriers for her 'cool plot ideas'.

In fantasy, the appeal lies with the high-stakes, the unimaginable, and the magical aspect of the story and so makes sense that SJM focuses more on that. But on the other hand, she sacrifices her characters like lambs even for a bit of suspense or thrill.

The best example I've got is the butchering of Feyre's character. The woman in first book is completely unrecognisable after the second. With ACOMAF, I understood she went through trauma after trauma and she was healing the best she could. I was waiting and waiting for her evolution into someone who has clearer values and more defined personality.

Instead she's reduced to a character to whom the plot happens. She has no clear healing, her family bonds are more strained than ever, her friendships are more goal oriented than anything, her ruling as High Lady is nothing more than a show.

I read the fanfics first and I thought I'd give the series a try. Huge mistake! Where was this side of fandom to warn me?? I believed with all my heart that IC are good people when I began the books and imagine my surprise how quickly the illusion was shattered.

Feyre doesn't actually seem to heal. Or in my opinion, I don't see how or where it might have happened. She still is reckless and endangers lives for what she believes is right.

She's used to making herself useful and she believes that's what gives her value in life. That's confused as her love language of giving and being of service. Not denying it isn't who she is though.

In ACOMAF, her relationship with Rhys is just that initially. He throws her in harm's way again and again, and she readily does it because it makes her useful, her powers useful. It's why she doesn't feel what Rhys is doing anything wrong, and so the readers don't find it shady.

In ACOWAR, it's a personal vendetta. In both books, it's more to do with her own reasons than good of others. They are collateral, a justification of sorts.

Like she felt at home before Tamlin, before Spring Court. Her family needed her for survival. She needed to feel useful to the point that she couldn't figure out what she wanted to do when she found her family was fine.

I'd have loved if she had learned not everything relied on her and she could take a break. If she had learned she has responsibilities to others but it doesn't mean her life would end if she failed once.

Instead she has an epiphany at the last minute and was afraid of losing Rhys. Just him, not the rest of her life, all the other happiness she might be missing on. Instead we get the Feyre who realised her idea of living life is having a child and being a housewife. Instead of having a steady healing where she becomes better and better and considerate, we get Feyre who's arrogant, conniving and prying.

Feyre once said in the beginning that if her sisters were married and she didn't have all those responsibilities, she would spend her days painting. And finally when she does it, people are to assume, it was her happy ending. But it was a lame way to give closure to her character. That was young, overworked, deeply traumatised Feyre asking for a little break and compassion. It wasn't her ultimate goal in her life. Honestly, her dream was never revealed because Feyre didn't matter in SJM's books, it was her plot that she cared about.

I have so many thoughts on all the other characters and every time I get mad, I remember it was all SJM's fault.

[lookupthewordjokeinthedictionary]

Did you miss me? (your mum misses you)

I'm back with another Sanders Sides draw each other, this time, Patton!! And oh boy, prepare for some angst!! (personal favourite)

I wanna believe I've improved also, but I'd love to hear your comments on what I can do better.

First we have Virgil!! Bullet point time for details:

Like a controlling parent™, Virgil has no eyeshadow!

He also has no hair in his eyes (almost, I couldn't let our boy suffer)

Honestly, if without his hoodie and the banner of his name, would you recognise him?

Not because I'm a bad artist (true), but because Patton has devoided his dark strange son of his dark strangeness.

Unthreatening Virgil for the win?

Next we have sexy Logan.

I'm sorry!! I wanted to draw sexy Logan and I found an excuse, okay??

To be honest, Logan hasn't changed his behaviour towards Patton throughout the series.

He's always been dismissive, so why shouldh we change our logicality drawing style of him?

Kinda proud of this one, sorry for the lack of details though (I hope I can compensate with sexy Logan)

Ah, Roman, here at last. Can you feel your eyes filled with tears yet or shall I explain? Have to do everything around here myself:

Everything about this is so *chef's kiss*

From the fact that out of all Scenes, Patton decided to draw Christmas Carol Roman.

From the fact that he drew him in a happy (almost cocky) way.

From the fact Roman is holding the folder, smiling, ignorant as ever.

Or even that Patton really likes to drill in the mistakes of others, proving he's the (morally) better side.

But eh, you could also view it as a heartwarming declaration of support from a father figure.

Up to you, I suppose. Not as fun though.

The dark sides, everybody, have arrived. Janus! In the courtroom:

We haven't addressed that the most Patton has seen of Janus is in the svs episode.

But this man really knows how to draw him sassy

The episode was basically Patton fighting for his life (and losing??)

You may ask, omg why this one??

Plot points

Sassiness meter

You'll figure it out in the next couple drawings, you impatient buffoon

Seconds, anyone??

You can see how Patton rushed through with this drawing (not because I'm tired and it's three in the morning)

He's terrified of him, but drew him kinda cutsy

Patton officially doesn't know how many legs an octapus has

Remus is "smiling" because never in the entire dwit episode did Remus insult or offend Patton

Surely he said some things that were very out of pocket, but he never even hurt the little guy (or the giant frog)

Really, check back, he even gave him his creative liberties!!

Lastly but not least-ly (nailed it) Patton drawing "himself" :

I can already here the confusion (through my screen, yes)

This is indeed Janus! Patton and not the truthful representation

Why?? Hah! Naive naive fellow fander

Patton (in canon) is coming to the realisation that his moral compass is pointing south (towards hell).

Not all the time, ofc, he has some great attributes.

However he does need the help of a little sharp side

What better way to cry for help than to show the importance of cooperation/integration

Also,, moceit.

[leonawriter]

One of my favourite ideas with regards to Ryoji is this sort of... thing where he can just exist outside of time somehow, because of how short a time he's allowed to exist in reality.

(massive spoilers for P3 onward past this point, obviously, if you haven't already gone through the game.)

[EDIT: I've cleaned it up a bit and edited and put it on AO3. So, if you want like... an entire extra scene plus some, go here.]

Which is great in theory, but a bit more complicated if you wanna put it into practice, other than going "well, he's here because... oh, a wizard did it." There are possibilities and plausibles, but they're frankly limited if you have (like me) a logical mind and a need for something to suspend your disbelief.

Except then I had a thought - Ryoji is also known as Death, or Thanatos. He takes on that role at the climax, even. So, I started thinking along those lines, and wound up with-

Ryoji the psychopomp. Ryoji, the grim reaper.

Not "the Reaper" as in the one that roams dungeons (he exists during P3 and is implied by design to be connected somehow to Tatsuya Sudou, anyway).

More like, that it's a case of "Life gave her creations to Death, no matter what they both knew would happen the moment he touched them."

Minato (or Kotone) dies on the school rooftop, and there he is, able to talk to them, and they're able to tell him that everything worked out, that everything will work out. Their spirit lingers at the Door, and they talk like it's passing notes in class.

A young girl finds herself on the receiving end of unwanted advances, and then she's somewhere strange, confronted with uncomfortable and unwanted truths, and then- then, there's a boy in a yellow scarf wanting to know all of the things that she loved about her life. At first it's strange, and more than a bit hard to think of things for this weird guy who she's never met before, but the more she talks the more she realises that she really did have things she treasured.

He thanks her for telling him, and as she makes her peace with the fact that this is it, he tells her that he'll keep them in his heart now, too.

Wakaba Isshikki knows about the cognitive realm - a little too much, perhaps, but not enough to stop. Enough, perhaps, to see the shadow of a boy following her for a day or two. Enough to feel as though she's already living on borrowed time, when she feels that surely she knows what's happening, and she simply... doesn't care.

She's a little wispy, still, when he leads what's left of her toward the Sea of Souls where she now belongs. He's concerned, and rightly so, about what that means. Wakaba's more worried about the kids.

(A few people don't get Ryoji. Those unhappy few get the floating mask of Death and a series of coffins to tell them that their time has come. For some it's because even in death they have no humility, and for others still it's simply easier, that way. Easier to not be Ryoji wile dealing with it, even if it would have been easier still to simply walk away and let them find their own way to the Sea.

But Kunikazu Okumura had sent so many his way, that it was only right that Death came to meet him personally.

"I didn't even get to finish my speech," the man said, blubbering after the towering figure that Death made.

You had a daughter, Death reminded him, and he was silent the rest of the way.)

Goro Akechi comes to, and the first thing he sees is a bright yellow scarf.

The first thing he does is swear, because boys with slicked-back hair wearing yellow scarves aren't supposed to exist when you're dead. The second thing he does is look around, and realise that you aren't really supposed to exist in a sea of stars and sit on nothing when you're alive, either.

"Please tell me this isn't the afterlife," he says, mostly because although he figured it could be worse - he could have found himself in hell, or surrounded by all of the people he'd killed over the years, all of the ones who had every reason to make his afterlife hell if it wasn't already - it could definitely be better.

"It is and it isn't," comes the cryptic answer. "Usually it is, more or less. Each of those lights represents a soul, after all." And there were so many of them. "But you're a special case! You're both dead and not dead right now, which, usually that doesn't happen? People can almost die but not actually die, but they aren't usually both at the same time, I mean."

"Maruki," Akechi practically spits out. "In that case, I'm surprised you're not inundated right now."

Blue eyes - far too blue to be human, they almost remind him of Morgana, and he was neither human nor a cat, apparently - duck down, glancing away.

"I felt what happened. Everyone caught up in a lie, completely oblivious... if the one controlling that power had wanted to bring ruin, then..." But he shakes his head, bringing himself out of his own thoughts. "It's a good thing that didn't happen, really! And- you're wrong, by the way."

"What?"

"Like I said, you're a special case. I've been able to talk to a lot of people, but I've never been able to ask anyone to send a message back before!"

"Back?" For a moment, Akechi is reduced to parroting back words. Surely they mean something, but the obvious meaning is impossible, and he can't think of anything else. "Who would someone like you even want to send a message to, anyway?"

"Would you believe me if I said they were old enemies, who were also old friends? But, I guess you've had a few of those yourself, right?"

"What would you even know about me?"

Akechi got a lopsided, bittersweet smile in return.

"I've been following you for a lot longer than I think we'd both have liked," come the words that send a shiver down his spine as instincts and senses that were rusty from disuse told him what that meant even as his more conscious mind shied away from the idea of it. "But I hope that after this, we won't be able to talk again for a long, long time."

Something tells Akechi that he's both in no danger whatsoever, and also that he really shouldn't refuse. He expects to be on a strict deadline (ha, dead) but time moves differently here, and apparently they have exactly as much time as they need. No more, and not a second less.

When he opens his eyes again, he can remember everything-

Someone really wanted you to live, Ryoji had said, with a teasing smile, and bright eyes.

It makes him feel small. It makes him feel indebted - to Akira, to Ryoji, in ways that he can't even begin to examine or think of how to repay. It makes him want to give it all back, so that he doesn't have to deal with it, but that would be purely theoretical and besides, he has promises to keep.

First, a debt to Akira, something that to Akechi feels like barely a drop in the ocean and that hopefully Akira and his friends will feel the correct amount of gratitude for.

Secondly-

"Hello- yes, this is Goro Akechi speaking. Is this Mitsuru Kirijo-san? I have a message to pass on to you. Are the names Ryoji Mochizuki and Minato Arisato familiar to you, at all?"

[shadowbriar]

Regulus Black - Supermassive Black Hole VI

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Selwyn!Reader Word Count : 4.9k Warning : Food. Mention of alcohol. Mention of blood. Mention of SA (lip biting). Synopsis : A simple arrangement turned into an everlasting one as two naïve children try to figure out their heart. Notes : I wrote this slightly drowsy and completely out of my head. I'll do some fixing if needed in the morning. If you'd like to be tagged for the next chapters, please comment or reblog so I can add you to the tag list. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Taglist: strikethrough means I could not tag you. @lostarc24 @hogwartshouse @milivanili99 @stelleduarte @40rimm @lilmaymayy @mischiefmanagers @happilyjollynacho @bl00dyr3gulus @lonelywitchv2 @burns-in-the-sun @lanaspepsicoke @rabluver

↞ Part V

The conversation they had last night haunts her. Each word Regulus uttered plays in her mind in a loop, buzzing as if there were bees stuck inside her brain. She thought that the condition they were in was complicated enough and that it couldn’t go any more worse than it already is yet once again, she was proven wrong.

The Greengrass girl was the textbook definition of perfection. She never knew her personally, never had any need to get to know her, but now it feels as if the universe is forcing her to know. Like a toddler being forced to eat a spoon of vegetables.

On one hand, she knew that Rosier might just be exaggerating about the Greengrass girl’s personality and how she’s the perfect match for Regulus, but she couldn’t help but to overthink. How would life be if Regulus were to marry her? Would he be happier? Would he be more satisfied? Would he love her?

There have been moments lately where she found Regulus slowly opening up to her. How he’s more comfortable with her presence, how the bitter look on his face has subdued whenever they were ‘forced’ to display affection to each other, how the word love seems to roll off his tongue easier whenever he calls her now, yet she still couldn’t stop herself from thinking, if he was married to the Greengrass girl, would he find these troubles at all? Would being married to her be as easy as breathing air?

Now she finds herself cutting the stems of flowers from the garden. It’s been a while since she came here, the one sanctuary she has whenever her mind is clouded. Her orchids are in full bloom, ready to be cut to replace the flowers in her bedroom vases.

But even doing her most therapeutic task does little to no help for her heart. Her mind was too full that she didn’t realise the other soul now standing a few feet beside her. He was dressed. Handsome and collected as always. A sight for sore eyes indeed.

Regulus clears his throat, making his presence known.

She turns to face him, stunned for a brief moment. The last time she’s seen him this neat was on their wedding day and as much as she appreciates his beauty, the unknown occasion makes her raise her brows, “Going somewhere?”

“I’m going to the Greengrass house. They’ve invited my family for dinner tonight.”

“Oh.”

Oh, indeed. Of course the two families would see each other more frequently now, given the fact that Sirius and the Greengrass girls’ arrangement is in motion. With Sirius’ unsettling nature, it is only logical that the parents of these children would need to spare more effort to make sure that such arrangement be successful. He’s wiggled himself out of the many arrangements his parents have made so far. If the two families wanted to make this reunion happen, they must surely sweat and cry blood for it.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Regulus says again, noticing her lack of response.

“I won’t.”

With that, she turns herself back to her flowers. Her answer was too quick and too callous for Regulus to understand. Something was not right.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Grand,” She answers, still not facing him “Tell Sirius I said hi.”

Regulus huffs, jealousy for his brother bleeds slightly, “Anything else?”

“No, have fun.”

“Is something the matter?”

She finally turns to face him again, brows furrow and the most displeased expression plastered on her face. How should she tell him that she doesn’t want him to go? How should she tell him that she doesn’t want him to meet the Greengrass girl again? How should she tell him that it hurts to know that he didn’t even want to invite her, his lawfully wedded wife, to this dinner?

“I can’t read your mind,” Regulus says again “If something is bothering you then spill it.”

She huffs, her eyes glaring at him, “When did you know about this dinner?”

“This afternoon. I got an owl from Sirius begging me to come.” He answers nonchalantly, still lost over her cause of vexation “He asked me to bring you but I knew you wouldn’t want to come.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t want to come?”

“Because it’s just a dull bleak dinner?” Regulus says as a matter of factly “Doubt you’d even consider if I ask.”

Regulus was right. Dinner with the Greengrass would never be something she agrees to come. She wishes to never see the Greengrass girl ever again, not when Regulus is within a kilometre radius. The Greengrass girl only proves as a reminder of someone who might be a better fit for Regulus, someone who might be a better wife for him, someone who might be better for him than her. 

But the idea of him spending hours with the Greengrass girl, though not alone, peels her skin. What if he realises that she was the better pair for him tonight? What if he realises that refusing the betrothal to Aquila was wrong? What if he realises that their wedding was a mistake?

Jealousy is a bad sight, indeed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks, sounding offended.

“I just— I don’t know!” Regulus says in frustration, ruining his perfectly combed hair as he runs his hand through it “Do you want to come?”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Stop turning my questions back to me.”

She rolls her eyes, “That’s rich coming from you.”

“What is it with you?” He asks in despair this time, looking completely baffled at her demeanour “Do you want to come?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to come?” She asks again, still with that irritated tone “It’s your family dinner. You have the bigger call in this.”

Regulus bites his inner cheek, taking a few paces back and forth as if he was in a big dilemma. In his mind, he was doing her a favour to not invite her to what would be her death, seeing Sirius, the man he still believes is the one she’s having feelings for, being promised to another girl. 

Perhaps her hostile remarks were caused by her jealousy. That she was hurt from his brother’s betrothal and had no other outlet to relieve it. A pain that he has to suffer in silence. His hair is even more messy now as he keeps on running his hand through it, completely frustrated over one silly question she asked him.

“Fine,” He says at last, surrendering to her cryptic meaning “Please, come.”

—-

“Stop fidgeting,” Regulus grumbles as they enter the Greengrass Manor.

“If someone was smart enough to tell me earlier that we’ll be going to a dinner then I would have more time to prepare myself, hence avoiding this state of a messy hairdo,” She spat back, glaring “I’m trying to be decent enough and not embarrass you.”

“I told you, I didn’t think you’d want to come,” Regulus reasoned “And you look beautiful. Now calm down and smile. You’d look even more beautiful then.”

She knew that her cheeks must have been as red as a tomato now. Granted that was the nicest compliment Regulus has ever given, even when he looks like he’s being tortured saying it with his angry expression still etched on his face. It was strange to see this side of Regulus. Though he still evidently has his rough edges and cold demeanour, it is obvious that he’s trying his best to warm up to her.

A cause to fuel her wide smile for the night.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here,” Sirius says as he scoops her into a hug “I thought I would have to spend this dreadful dinner alone.”

“Glad to have come to your rescue, Brother,” Regulus snorts, his eyes now eyes the small crowd of people “Is that—,”

“The Rosiers, yeah.” Sirius answers.

“Rosiers?” She asks, looking at the direction the brothers were staring at “What are they doing here?”

Sirius shrugs, “Maybe one of the Rosier kids is courting the Greengrass daughters.”

“Ah, a little competition for you then,” She jests.

“Please,” Sirius rolls his eyes “They can marry all the Greengrass daughters for all I care.”

She smiles at Sirius’ remarks. It was obvious that Sirius paid no mind in this arrangement, something that certainly isn’t out of his character. She turns her gaze to Regulus who still has his eyes locked on the Rosiers, looking as if his night has gone from bad to worse. The stiff state of his shoulders and how his eyes are now sending deathly daggers to the Rosier family was baffling.

“You alright?” She asks, giving Regulus a light squeeze on the arm “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Worse,” He mutters before turning to Sirius “Do you have any idea where Mother and Father are at? I think we’ll leave early tonight.”

“But dinner hasn’t even started,” She protests.

“I’m sure we have food at home,” Regulus says with a forced smile.

“Mother will have your head if you leave before dessert is served, Reg.” Sirius says with a chuckle “You might be the favourite son but she’ll never let you out of this circus. You’re as trapped as I am.”

Regulus huffs, looking irritated beyond words.

“What’s wrong with you? Took a glance at your own bestfriend’s family and suddenly wanted to leave.” Sirius comments, an eyebrow raised as he studies his brother “If I see any of my friends here, James or Remus or Peter, I would consider staying, not leaving.”

Regulus didn’t answer.

It was a question she’s itching to ask too. Something tells her that the friendship Regulus and Rosier said to have been mended has actually been burned to ash, no turning back this time. Whatever it is Rosier thought Regulus stole must have been something so precious, so important that the two couldn’t look past it. Or rather, Regulus couldn’t look past it.

Perhaps he was offended at the accusation. Regulus certainly doesn’t seem to be someone who would steal anything from anyone. What could he possibly want to steal after all? With his family wealth and reputation, the power his name holds, what could he possibly ever desire that he could not gain on his own? What is it that Regulus desperately craves that he has to ruin his friendship with Rosier in the process?

“Whatever,” Regulus snorted at last, turning to his brother with that bitter expression still evident on his face “You owe us big time, Brother, and I will collect.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, impressed yet appalled at the same time.

“I’ll go look for my parents,” Regulus announces, leaving the two on their post.

She watches as Regulus’ shoulder turns and slowly walks away, becoming a smaller silhouette before completely disappearing behind the pillars. Salazar knows just how many times she’s seen him walk away now. Each time scratches the surface of her already whimpering heart and leaves a mark that she doubts even time could heal.

It feels like some time in the near future, he will walk away for good.

“Well he’s always been a pleasant kid to be around,” Sirius comments, frowning still as he tries to understand his brother’s antics “I hope he treats you better than that.”

She shrugs, “I’m getting used to it.”

Sirius’s eyes lingered on her, studying her expression as if he wanted to look for an answer. As if he wanted to crack the riddle he’s been unable to decipher for weeks. It was one thing to be stared at by Sirius in the open when he was being himself but his obvious hidden meaning is bleeding out and it’s starting to make her quiver in uncertainty.

“Look, Love,” Sirius finally sighs, making her heart heavier “I really don’t know what to say about that dear brother of mine, but believe me when I say that his heart came from the right place whenever it comes to you. He cares for you, much more than he’s willing to admit. He’s just struggling to find the best way to convey his means.”

She remains quiet, trying to believe the older boy’s words.

Sirius bites his inner cheek as if he was debating to spill his gut, but Sirius was never one with a strong self-resistance as he questions, “I know it’s not my place to ask, Bug.. But why did you date Regulus?”

Her brows knit, taken aback at the sudden question. No one has ever asked her why she dated Regulus. In the early days of their pretend dating there were wonders and questions, sure, but such a curiosity only lasts for a day or two. Everyone simply accepted the fact that these two Slytherin royals are bound to be with each other, familial duty or not, but to be asked by Sirius, the one person that has always been so close to the two to see the connections others are making, is pushing bile up her throat.

The memory of Sirius’ bitter expression on that train ride back from Hogwarts replays in mind. She’s suddenly reminded by how Regulus seems to be on edge everytime Sirius was around at first, as if the brothers were fighting and Sirius was the one holding a gun to the younger brother’s head.

A sight that was never experienced before.

“What do you mean?” She asks, an unsure smile tugs on her lips “Was the idea of us dating so appalling?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Sirius says fast, shaking his head “It’s just that— I never knew you two were close in that sense, you know? I mean perhaps it’s due to the fact that we’re sorted to different houses but I truly have never seen you two together. And I know how cold Regulus could act so I just—”

She bites her lower lip. Her bad habit comes out, making her lip bleed a little. She knew Regulus would scold her for this later but she couldn’t stop herself. If there is anyone that could crack their faulty agreement, it would be Sirius, there’s no question in that. He knows her too well, lived under the same roof with Regulus for too long to not notice all the peculiar details to their relationship.

“—thought that there would be no way that you would ever date him.” Sirius says with an awkward laughter.

“Who would you think I’d date, then?”

Sirius shrugs, “I don’t know. No one, I suppose.”

“Would it be disastrous if I actually like Regulus?”

There was a pause. She wanted to look away from Sirius’ gaze, to mentally hide and run from his studying eyes before she showed him too much of her truth but realisation hit the older boy too quickly. The look on Sirius’ face changes from confusion, to understanding, to anger and disappointment within seconds.

His reaction felt like salt to her wound. It twisted her stomach even worse now as Sirius stared at her with that pitiful look. It was as if he knew the full truth. How their dating, their marriage, everything about their relationship wasn’t based on love. How she is the only one trying to row their ship to the shore. How she is the pathetic party that is bound to have their heart crushed and stomped to the ground by the end of the day.

But there was a glimmer of anger in Sirius’ eyes that she couldn’t pinpoint why. It was certainly not out of jealousy, rather a secret knowledge Sirius possessed that brought embarrassment to her confession for all the wrong reasons. It was as if he knew something she didn't.

“Does Regulus know?” He asks.

“No,” She says quietly, feeling even more humiliated now “I don’t plan for him to ever know.”

“What do you mean you don’t plan for him to ever know? He’s your husband.”

“Yes, well— We’re not exactly the most traditional couple there is, are we?”

Sirius opens his mouth, only to close it before any word could escape. He looks frustrated for some reason, as if he’s a time bomb ready to explode any minute now. His eyes were busy scanning the crowd of people, no doubt trying to find Regulus. Perhaps he could provide the answer the two are looking for.

“I’m going to kill him.” Sirius mutters.

“Why? Because I’m crushing on him?” She jokes.

Sirius’ gaze softens, placing a hand to her shoulder as he kisses her temple gently, “I think I need to find my parents.”

She knew that it was a bad lie. Sirius would rather have his head than to ever look for his own parents which makes her feel even more embarrassed and confused now. What could be so bad about her actually liking Regulus? Shouldn’t he be happy for them, knowing that even though their relationship is as dysfunctional as one could possibly, there’s still seeds of innocent feelings planted underneath? What is it that he knew?

—-

Regulus was certain that, for once in his lifetime, he knew that she wouldn’t want to come to the Greengrass dinner. It would be hell to come and sit for hours on the same table where your real crush is about to be promised to another girl while you’re stuck married with someone who you don’t even love. Regulus was still convinced that if she indeed harbours feelings for anyone, it would be none other than Sirius and he has stripped her out of any possibility to unite with him.

He supposed the sour response she gave him earlier was because he tried to keep this away from her. That he tries to save her from another heartbreak of watching Sirius play courting with the Greengrass girl. She must have been heartbroken to know that the arrangement was in motion hence all the snappy gestures towards him.

But then again, Regulus was proven wrong.

She can’t understand me, she said, Regulus thought as he dawned yet another flute of champagne, does she think she's the easiest person to read?

“Regulus!” A voice called as they snatched the empty glass away from his hand “What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh, don’t be the moral police now, Sirius,” Regulus scoffs “As if you don’t get yourself hammered on every function we ever attended.”

Sirius’ eyes were still piercing, clearly disapproving of the younger’s action, “Is that really what you plan to do? Get yourself hammered?”

Regulus rolls his eyes, not answering.

“Who’s going to take care of her if you’re drunk?” Sirius asks.

“You,” Regulus answers flatly “And I won’t be drunk from champagne.”

“I am going to murder you, Brother.”

Now Regulus raised his brows. He looks up to Sirius, studying his expression closer to notice the underlying anger on the calmness of his brother’s gaze. Identical pair of eyes staring back at him, silently scolding him in ways that it surprises Regulus. Whatever fault he’s done now must have upset Sirius so much that he couldn’t even let his mouth run its course.

“For drinking champagne?” Regulus asks, taunting.

Sirius rolls his eyes, sighing, “Why don’t you go and find your wife. You’ve left her alone long enough.”

“Why did you leave her? I’m sure she appreciates your presence much more than mine.”

“Oh, you couldn’t be more wrong about that.” Sirius chuckles this time.

“Trust me, I’m not wrong,” Regulus snorts, stubborn “She likes you, do you know that? If only you’d say yes to my request and date her, we wouldn’t be stuck in this depressing dinner.”

“She doesn’t like me.”

“Oh, you couldn’t be more wrong about that.” Regulus mocks, returning his words.

“Why are you so persistent that she likes me?” Sirius asks instead, folding his arms to his chest to challenge Regulus “What makes you think that she likes me? Has she ever told you that?”

“No, but you make her laugh,” Regulus argues “No one could make her laugh as loud as you do.”

“Well, have you ever tried to make her laugh? Maybe you could make her laugh even louder.”

Regulus was stunned. He blinks, brows furrowing as he tries to digest Sirius’ words, “Don’t jest with me.”

“I’m just saying,” Sirius shrugs “You always say that she likes me because I make her laugh, have you tried to make her laugh? And even if she doesn’t laugh louder with you, do you really think that all she needs in life is laughter? That what she seeks in a partner is just some giggles?”

“She looks the prettiest when she laughs.”

Sirius narrows his eyes. Regulus’ comment would never escape his lips without the help of Merlin knows how many flutes of champagne he has drunk tonight. There was a hint of delicacy in the eyes of the younger boy now. As if he was remembering the moments where she was smiling and laughing in his head.

“She doesn’t like me, Regulus.” Sirius says again, this time with a softer yet fixed tone “I know because she told me.”

“She told you she doesn’t like you?” Regulus raised an eyebrow “How? Did you ask if she likes you? Did you ever have feelings for her? Have you ever confessed?”

“Yes and no to the rest of your questions.” Sirius answers, placing a hand to his brother’s shoulder in a reassuring manner now “All you need to know is that she doesn’t like me. Not in any way you think she does.”

Regulus frowns, unimpressed.

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“I’d rather face the cruciatus curse.”

Sirius bites his smile, “Why are you always skittish whenever we talk about this?”

“Talk about what?”

“Her,” Sirius responds, still with that amused smile lingering on his lips “And you.”

“And me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not skittish.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Regulus.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“Do you fancy her?”

Regulus was silenced. He could feel his cheeks heating up with the growing smile on his brother’s face. The cat is finally out of the bag and it just has to be Sirius to be the first one to know. How brilliant.

Without a word, Regulus reaches for another flute of champagne and gulps it in one go. He places the empty glass to the table, fixing his hair and dress robe. He could feel Sriius and his teasing smile staring at him, studying all the little bashful gestures he makes now that his secret is compromised.

“This conversation never happened.” Regulus says to Sirius, his eyes glaring in all seriousness.

Sirius, still smiling from his recent knowledge, raises his arms in surrender. He steps out of Regulus’ way, not saying a word. Just how fantastic this dinner has become.

—-

Spending time with Rosier, smiling and laughing over the banter he throws shouldn’t bring any form of pleasantness in her heart yet here she is, standing in front of the boy with a gleeful grin plastered on her face.

“Tell me more about Aquila,” She says once their laughter has died down, hiding her bitterness behind a feigned smile “She seems to be a lovely girl.”

“She is, I suppose.” Rosier says, shrugging “Like I said before, I don’t know much about her. She’s the reserved one of the other Greengrass kids. I think I could count the limited time we’ve interacted throughout the years with my hands.”

She smiles curtly.

“Why do you ask?”

She bites her lips once again, feeling the foul taste of iron bleeding once more. It was an ever ending debate for her to tell Rosier about the supposed betrothal of Regulus and the Greengrass girl. On one hand, she needed to know more about the girl and she couldn’t do it without telling Rosier the truth. He wouldn’t give her the information she needed otherwise. But she was still wary about the state of friendship he has with Regulus. She wasn’t sure if the boys had actually put their past behind them.

“Just because,” She says instead, shrugging and smiling “She’s about to be part of the family. I just feel like I should get to know her better.”

“Well, good luck with that.” Rosier says with a mocking chuckle “As private as Regulus, she is also as callous and uninterested. It should be a real treat to see her actually marrying Sirius.”

Once again, she only replies with a smile.

“I have not seen Regulus,” Rosier said, taking a sip of the champagne in his hand “Where is he?”

“Not sure,” She says now, eyes looking around “I—”

“Right here,” A voice answers, followed by a hand encircling their way around her waist. Regulus smiles at her, planting a soft kiss to her temple as if he’s missed her “I wandered around and lost track of time. I’m sorry, Love.”

She smiles at him, unable to form any words from his sudden gentle gesture.

“Regulus,” Rosier greets, a bitter smile evident on his face.

“Evan,” Regulus nods at him before turning to face her “Can I steal you for a minute, Love?”

Confusion was clear in her eyes but she bobbed her head, “Of course.”

With a short nod and half-hearted smile to Rosier, Regulus led her out of the room. His hand was holding onto her wrist, a firm yet gentle grasp that made the butterflies in her stomach go frantic. He was walking at a fast pace, eager to leave the room as if he couldn’t get any oxygen inside.

Once they were out at the garden, Regulus let her hand go and paced away, creating space between them as he ran his hand through his hair.

“What in the bloody hell were you doing?!” Regulus yells, clearly angry now “Talking and laughing with Evan? Have you lost your Goddamn mind?!”

She blinks in confusion at his sudden outburst. Her eyes were glued on him, watching as the boy had his meltdown with zero comprehension as to what might cause it. Was talking and laughing with Rosier really that big of a mistake? Didn’t he say that they’ve rekindled their friendship? What exactly is the problem now?

“I left you for a few minutes and you’re flirting with my ex-best friend.”

“Alright, hold on, now.” She says at last, feeling anger to boil up at the accusation “I was not flirting with him, alright? We were just talking. You left me for more than half an hour, you can’t possibly expect me to not try to talk to some familiar faces.”

“Oh so Evan is familiar now?”

“I— What is wrong with you?” She asks this time, taking closer steps to him “Are you drunk?”

“There’s literally other people you can talk to. You could’ve talked to my parents or the Greengrass, not Evan.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I don’t know any of the Greengrass and I couldn’t find your parents. Even if I did find them, what exactly can I talk to them about? The weather?”

“Better still than talking to Evan!”

She was speechless now. Regulus was never one to let his anger out this way, never to be this emotional. Whatever fueled this meltdown must have been some other bigger problem that he’s not telling her about. That and the fact that his breath smells like alcohol.

“You’re drunk,” She says, trying to be the sane one out of the two “Let’s just go home. Wait here. I’ll find your parents and tell them we’re leaving early.”

“No, you’re not going back inside.”

Regulus pulls her, his hand clutching to her wrist once again but with apparent despair this time. His eyes were still filled with fury but the way his brows furrowed and the way his lips quiver as if he was fighting back tears makes her stunned. Regulus was fighting a battle she doesn’t understand about.

“Don’t go back inside,” He says again, this time with a much softer tone. Begging.

“What’s going on, Regulus?” She asks “What’s wrong?”

Regulus remains quiet. His anger subdues as he stares back at her. His eyes travel from her eyes, her nose, down to her lips. Another frown forming on his face as he notices the trace of dried blood on her lips.

“You bit your lip again,” Regulus whispers “How many times should I tell you not to do it?”

She remains quiet.

“You’re driving me crazy.” He says again, his hand reaching to cup her cheeks “Fuck this.”

With that, he pulls her for a kiss. A hungry, desperate kiss that would surely leave the both of them out of breath once they part. She couldn’t fight the urge to not kiss him back once his left hand pulls her closer by the waist. She couldn’t fight the urge to not kiss him back once he moaned as her hands found their way to play with his hair. She couldn’t fight the urge to not kiss him back once the only thing filling her senses were his body heat and the smell of alcohol from his breath. She couldn’t stop.

“Be mine,” Regulus says between their kisses “Please, be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

As if she’s said something so appalling for him to hear, Regulus pulls away and stares at her. His eyes were half open, hair completely in a mess now from all the tugging and pulling she’s done. He looks beautiful.

“I’m sorry.”

Then everything turns black. Regulus passed out.

↠ Part VII

[emperasnake]

forever

pairing: mikage reo x gn reader content: fluff to angst wc: 0.9k event: @https-true-egoist's 'love me not' valentines collab

You woke up to darkness. Various thoughts scrambled around in your head. They were in a rush, as if they'd woken up late, and they kept bumping into each other in the process.

When they finally came together, they reminded you of the delightful day you'd had yesterday.

You sprang up in excitement, then immediately laid back down, your giddiness and racing heart making you dizzy.

You shot Reo a quick good morning text, telling him you'd be opening his gifts soon.

Throughout your relationship, Reo had shown he was the type of partner to go all out. From buying you presents, cooking for you, helping you clean, and consoling you when you felt down; he'd been there for you in every way he could. He promised he would forever.

You didn't believe him at first. Nothing lasts forever. Maybe you'd be together for a long, long time, but forever? It was incomprehensible, like infinity. How could he promise you something that couldn't be understood?

But Reo turned it into something you could grasp. Like your favourite teacher would, he explained it at a pace suited for you, paying attention to your reactions and slowing down when he thought you needed some time to process.

'forever'

You started to see it as a beautiful concept. You even began to believe you and Reo would last that long, however long it may be.

It seemed everything he did only solidified that belief.

Yesterday, for Valentine's Day, Reo had snuck into your apartment to make you breakfast. He cooked up your favourite dish and served you with a dazzling smile, telling you to get ready for a day you'd never forget.

He drove you around town, calling it a drive down memory lane. You went from place to place, reminiscing and gathering memorabilia of previous dates. He'd put all the gifts in a woven basket and asked you to open it the next day.

Your favourite gift was the teddy bear. Reo had insisted it be the opposite of the one you two had made together—green instead of red, with a matching bow tie around its neck.

A warmth spread from your chest at the sight of the gift basket, covered in translucent pink plastic and decorated with hearts and ribbons. You grabbed it and sat down, plastic crinkling as you pulled it off, allowing a card to fall to the floor. A flap on its back piqued your interest.

"Goodbye," written in a beautiful calligraphic script.

Goodbye?

A nervous laugh slipped past your lips. What did he mean by 'goodbye'?

As you stared at the word, your confusion slowly melted into an uncomfortable panicky feeling.

You turned over the card, scanning over the "Happy Valentine's Day" on the cover and Reo's scrunched-up script inside. He'd tried to fit a lot within two pages, and it all seemed like compliments.

The goodbye must've been a joke, you convinced yourself.

You took a deep breath and started slowly reading from the beginning. Reo had written about his favourite memories with you, the habits you had that made him smile, the times you'd taken care of him when he hadn't been well and that he appreciated everything you did for him.

As you neared the end of the card, you let out a sigh of relief. Yeah, the goodbye must've been a joke.

Your mind half-soothed, you read through the rest. But as you came upon the last few lines, your heart dropped.

I'm sorry.

I loved you.

And on the back, hidden behind the flap you'd opened too early, goodbye.

How long? was the first question to pop into your head. How long had he been pretending? He loved you, past tense.

He'd loved you and he'd left you.

He'd left you with so many gifts to remind you of him. Did he realise how much that would hurt? Did he realise he was stabbing you in the back, then twisting the knife?

Your mind and your heart raced, jostling with each other, trying to figure out what you were feeling, trying to figure out some sort of logic to your situation.

You grabbed for your phone, wanting to text Reo, though you had no idea what you would say. With shaky hands, you typed out a message asking if you could talk.

Message not delivered

Your stomach churned.

Exiting your texts only made you feel worse.

Reo stared back at you from your home screen, wearing a sweater you'd gifted him. It looked great on him, but the word scrawled across the front dug claws into your heart.

'forever'

Where had those promises gone? What did Reo suddenly not like anymore? He was the one who'd made those promises. He was the one who'd worked so hard to have you believe him.

Tears rolled down your cheeks onto your phone screen. You had to fight the urge to throw the damn thing to the floor.

Reo's laugh mocked you, the word on his sweater making it all the more painful. They taunted you together, first from your screen and later that evening, when your tears had slowed.

A package arrived at your door. It contained everything you'd left at Reo's place, with the sweater placed on top.

'forever'

It meant nothing to you.

a/n: happy valentine's day!