#i got lazy with the rendering forgive me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fireheartfaery · 3 years

Text

the distance we can’t comprehend

this is obviously always and forever, dedicated and discussed and developed by with and for dear Cassiopeia Nesta Aurora because she’s perfection and I love her! @danikafendyrr

once again I wrote this in the tumblr app it is most definitely not edited. please forgive me and all the glaring mistakes thank you I love you <3

I’ll put it on ao3 soon and reblog with the link. I don’t have my laptop with me so it’s difficult to do so right now okay enjoyyyyyy

[Image has alt text]

Fenrys phone buzzes on the nightstand. Incessantly. A call then. He squints as the lazy afternoon sun pierces through the large windows and engulfs the bed he’s currently lounging on.

The faint sound of the shower can be heard somewhere to his right but the phone is louder. Almost falling off the wood in its insistence on being heard.

“Alright, alright.” He grumbles grabbing it without bothering to check the screen. “Fenrys, what’s up.”

“Fen, oh my angels!” The smooth excited voice of Hunt Athalar rings through his ear. “You would not believe the afternoon I’ve had! I’m on my way home now but oh my hell Fen, I swear Micah is going to be the death of me! Can you believe what he did today—“

“Hunt,” Fenrys smiles softly, overwhelmed by the sheer love he has for his dramatic boyfriend. He’s worse so really he can’t afford to call it a flaw. “There’s something you should know before coming—“

“Micah made me deal with the godsdamn Postal Services! FEN!” Hunt continues, caught up in his raving in the heat of his hatred for the post. And hell does that hatred run deep. He doesn’t even hear Fenrys. It makes him want to laugh.

“He tried to make me go down there but I refused!” There’s some shuffling on the other end as if a hand is trying spring free while still holding a phone and probably a million other things. Neither of them have ever been the definition of “pack light”. “But I point blank refused. I said he had to go down there and deal with it himself if he wanted a face to face confrontation.”

The shower goes off. The sun still warms his brown skin.

“Ugh I can’t wait to show you the look on his face when he came back from that stupid place.” The cackling on the other end gives him enough of a clue. This conversation is going to involve too much wine and a night of belly-aching laughter. “Anyway before I spoil the show do we need anything at home?”

“Uh babe, I really think—“

“Eggs right?” Hunt mutters to himself, “And maybe more wine? I’ll get the white you like. We can sit by the fire. Apparently it’s going to be freezing.”

“We need some fresh bread please.” Fenrys manages to get out, keeping his giggles in. If Hunt didn’t have his head on the right way every morning he’d walk backwards like it was the most normal thing in the world. “And I really need to—“

“Oh shit the train is coming,” The distant roaring alerts him well enough. “I’m gonna loser signal my love. See you in a few.”

The call cuts.

Fenrys is left to a lazy room and the sound of shuffling coming from the bathroom beyond.

“Well,” He sighs, smile unable to leave his face. “Guess he’s going to be in for a surprise.”

A door opens, steam curling around the air, across the hinges, amongst bronze fingers.

“Well,” He sighs, looks at the figure standing across the room. “You are certainly a lovely afternoon delicacy.”

Drops of water sit on a wide chest, unwilling to leave. He gets it. Gods and damnation he gets it. Arms corded with veins and muscle he could spend hours tracing, are wrapping a fluffy white towel around large hips.

“The shower is amazing.” Rowan Whitethorn grins at him.

Fenrys is almost speechless, smile and teeth and joy rendering him incapable of human. This is the very definition of “wildly beautiful.” He tangles his fingers in snow white hair, forever fascinated by the delicateness. For someone so large, the hair makes everything look that much more….. just more.

“Hunt got it installed. He said there are few joys in life. A good shower after a long day is one of them.” He’s off the bed, walking slowly towards his guest. Wants to capture every minute detail. “I think he’s dramatic but it works in my favour so I can’t complain.”

“You’re staring at me like you want to eat me, again.”

“I do want to eat you. Hell I want to devour you.”

“You want to shower.” Rowan gently wraps fingers around his shoulders. Moves him into the bathroom.

“I want to take your last name.”

“After Hunt agrees to take it too.”

Fenrys disappears into the shower. And takes the quickest one of his life. Anything to be in that presence again.

As he’s stepping out of the shower he hears the front door open. Shuffling from within the room, in the kitchen too.

“Fen?” Hunt calls, shoving paper bags onto the counter. The crinkle is loud in the echo of the house. “Is that you, angel?”

“I got the white and the red—“ He can picture his boyfriend, head in the fridge, stacking wine bottles in the rack, unaware of the world around him. “I was only going to get the white but they had the really dry one you like and I didn’t particularly want to feel like I was swallowing wood drift tonight, so I got the red for me. Do you think it’d be strange to be two different kinds of dru—“

Speech ceases to exist. Fenrys is leaning on the arch that opens into the kitchen and watching with rapt attention as his boyfriend finally realises what’s going on. He can see Hunt struggling to remember language. Knows five and he can’t find sentences in any of them. Mumbles the alphabet in his sleep and can’t piece letters together to form words.

Rowan stands at the island, a gentle smile on his face. Patience lining every glorious muscle on his back.

“Fen–“ Hunt chokes out.

“Hi,” Beautiful deadly grin. “He-“ And a cursory point is waved to the side, where he still leans against the arch. “-should have told you before you came home.”

“I did try!”

“Fenrys,” Hunt is strangling on his own vocal cords.

“I know baby,” He laughs, moves into the kitchen, stands at his boyfriend’s side. “I tried to tell you on the phone but you were being sort of passionate about the whole postal service thing. I figured it’d be a nice surprise anyway.”

“You’re home.” Voice cracking. Tears are pooling in dark swirling eyes. “You’re here.”

And just like that Rowan is across the counter cradling Hunt in his arms, face gently held between warm fingers. “I’m home, my love.”

Something deep within Fenrys heart clicks back into place. A puzzle piece missing for far too long finally found in the dark dreaded abyss underneath the wardrobe. A single star finally learning what it means to light up the night sky.

Later, so much later, when the kisses have spilled over more than the wine and hands have held and held and held and tears have soaked into skin and time has melted straight through the floor, they collapse into the bed that fits three in the room that fits three in the apartment that fits three.

And the little board, hung on the fridge door, now reads: “Days without him: 0”

#fenrys x hunt x rowan #moonthalarthorn #that is SO BAD!?????#hunrowfen #????? this doesn’t seem better #whatever y’all get it #fenrys moonbeam #hunt athalar #rowan whitethorn #ff fanfic

26 notes · View notes

kakiwrites · 4 years

Text

seeing a whole different captain

Genre: crack and fluff

A Kita shinsuke x reader

Synopsis: what happens when Suna and the other members of Inarizaki see their captain being soft with the love of his life.

a/n: hey guys! I'm writing this after finishing season 4 because suna's little monologue about wanting to find some blackmail on Kita to tease him just spoke to me lolol anyways, hope you guys enjoy it!

Suna didn't expect to see this.

But he can't say that he didn't like it.

The second-year watched from the cracked door as you sat on his usually cold captain's lap, engrossed in your voice. His hands ran up and down your hip warmly as you talked about what you wanted to do today joyously.

"what are ya doing standing there, suna-" Atsumu tried to call out but not before suna slapped his hand over the setter's mouth. Atsumu pried it off and was about to yell at him again but suna's hands were quicker as he grabbed Atsumu from the back of his head then pulled him to look at the crack. The setter was rendered speechless at the sight of Kita's radiating grin as he stared lovingly at you.

"you know eavesdropping is bad-" Aran's words died in his mouth as he looked into the room. How did you do that? How did you bring out the soft side of their captain?

Suna took out his phone and started recording. This was the blackmail he was waiting for. He finally found Something to finally tease and ridicule him for. Nobody in the hallway objected to his action. They wanted to remember this day forever.

Especially if they were gonna freeze to death as soon as Kita found out.

Soon, the rest of the team gathered at the door, shoving each other to try and see the impossible. "get out of the way, 'Samu!" Atsumu whispered-yelled, pushing his brother's head out of the way.

Osamu pushed the faux blonde away from him, causing a brawl. The others tried to calm the twins down in fear of getting caught. "pull them away." Omimi whispered, trying to grab onto Atsumu's shirt to pry him off his twin.

The commotion reached the other side of the door. Your eyes moved from Kita's chocolate eyes to the door in question. Kita did the same, his once undivided attention finally broken as he glared at the noise in the hallway. "let me check it out, darling." he said, steering your head to look at him before he took your hand kissed it. He then placed you down on the bench beside him carefully then walked over to the door then opened it swiftly to see the team like deer in the headlights. Suna closed and pocketed his phone when he saw his captain's blank expression.

"what are you all doing in the hallway?" Kita asked sternly, making the atmosphere tenser than it was. Everyone looked at each other nervously then looked back at their unwavering captain, his arms crossed across his chest. He stared daggers at them, stares like kita's could bring grown men to tears.

Before any one of the third years could confess, Atsumu got the courage to move from his position and stood up to come face to face with Kita himself. He looked up at him, seemingly ready to confess but instead of a mature confession, Atsumu yelled out one thing.

"scatter!"

And scatter the volleyball team did, running down the hallway as fast as they could. Kita could only let out a sigh before closing the door again.

"Everything okay, shin?" you approached the male, wrapping your arms around his neck. Kita eased into your touch, his hands resting on your hips once again.

"everything is great. I'll see the boys in a little bit at the gym anyway," he said with a smile. His hand brushed your hair away before caressing your soft cheek. "may I kiss you, darling?"

"you don’t even have to ask," you said before pulling his face down to meet your lips. Kita's lips melted against yours.

Kita was glad that he could kiss his girlfriend without any prying eyes.

And don't worry, the second Kita walked into the gym, he became extra cold to the team and made them run three extra laps for eavesdropping.

And that's all. My brain just conjured it up and I'm kinda lazy to proofread this fully so if there are any mistakes please forgive me! Please don't be shy to leave requests in my inbox! Love you guys 💕💖❤️

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @reogou @midnightangelfox @wumboho @seiijixcia

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #kita #kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kaki writes

260 notes · View notes

dayurno · 4 years

Text

under the cut is the kandrew throw down of the year™ aka my attempt at reasoning the ch*king scene in therapeutic context. the events in this happen in betsy’s office, on the grounds that andrew asked her to fix them a few weeks after canon. could probably be the kickstarter for a kandreil fic but who knows. i sure don’t

tw: discussions of abuse, choking, kevin flipping his shit (aren’t you tired of being nice? don’t you just want to go apeshit?)

"You’re a spineless, despicable, selfish, obsessed and self-righteous person—” Andrew starts, a tinge of anger simmering under his words. It’s almost dangerous, but Kevin knew Betsy would throw Andrew out of his room if he tried solving this with his fists.

Maybe it’s that safety that has Kevin cutting him off, perhaps just as viciously, “You are a man,” he says, pointing a finger in Andrew’s direction. “You are an average, lazy, boring, cowardly, success-fearing man. You have potential and you waste it. You think feeling nothing makes you have the upper hand, but that makes you average. It makes you so-so; irrelevant; not special. You settle because you’re a coward.” He takes a deep breath. “You think violence makes you a man. It does not. It makes you a petulant child with knives.”

“Not so spineless after all,” Andrew snarls, a cold fury settling all over him and tightening his muscles into unbearable tension, as if he was about to snap.

Kevin does not find fear when he looks for it; most of all, he’s tired. He’s tired of Andrew’s leash and how short it is, he’s tired of pulling at his teeth, he’s tired of up-keeping a deal with a man who did not keep his word in the first place. “Do better, then. Stop acting like a child and do better. You can’t like me if you tried and I’m getting tired of pulling at your teeth.”

“Andrew,” Betsy interrupts before Andrew can — most likely — launch himself onto Kevin, “what do you think? How does that make you feel?”

He stares at her fixedly, avoiding Kevin as if he weren’t there. “I think that I want him out.”

She considers it for a second, then says, “No. I can’t let him leave, Andrew. This is the root of all your issues with each other, and you’ve asked me to fix you two. Let me help.”

Andrew takes a long, shuddering breath, so deep Kevin’s own lungs hurt as he follows it. Inhale; exhale. They do it as parallel lines, eyes pointedly away from each other. “I think,” he roughly replies, “that Kevin could simply go back to the Ravens if he wants someone that gets off to Exy as much as he does.”

“Oh, because that’s so mature,” Kevin fumes, at once the forest fire and the leftover ashes. “It’s so easy for you to throw other peoples’ abuse around, isn’t it? Andrew gets to have boundaries, Andrew gets to keep secrets, but God helps anyone who wants to do the same. No one can touch you, but you can hurt people however you want without a single care for the consequences. Doesn’t sound very fucking healthy to me, Andrew. It sounds like someone I know and you won’t like to hear who it is.”

Andrew’s gaze is stone cold. Kevin would shiver if he wasn’t so deep within the flames, and then again — he's seen worse. If Kevin survived Riko Moriyama, he'll survive anyone.

“Say it,” Andrew demands. “I dare you. Say it.”

“I don’t fucking do what you tell me to do,” Kevin snaps, struggling to keep his voice down. “I’m not your fucking pet, Andrew. Obedience under the coercion of a knife is not the choice you think you’re giving me.”

“Is that how you feel?” Andrew asks, dead gazed. His lips are chapped and his hands are balled into fists; shaking with the strength it takes him to hold himself back from giving Kevin another necklace of bruises. “You were not forced to strike a deal with me. You did it out of your own volition. Do not speak of things you do not understand because you want to lash out at me.”

“He thinks I don’t understand what it’s like to not have a choice,” Kevin laughs, a cynical sound choked out of his throat. “Oh, aren’t you farsighted. Before I got out of the Nest, saying ‘no’ to someone was not even in question, Andrew. There are things I still need spelled out for me because I don’t know what it’s like to have personal fucking boundaries. When you choked me, I,” at this point Kevin’s hands are trembling at the same violent rhythm Andrew’s are, though a part of him — untainted and scared; perpetual in its adolescence — still thrashes at his insides at the mere thought of arguing back, biting back. “I didn’t even know. I didn’t know that wasn’t a thing you should be allowed to do. I didn’t have a name for that. All I thought was that I was submitted to you, and that it was right, and that I was paying for keeping something from you. I didn’t know and you did it anyways. You took advantage of me.”

Andrew’s entire body tenses up. “I didn’t. I didn’t. If you say something like that again, I’ll kill you.”

“Then be it,” Kevin replies, leaning back against the chair with a slump of his shoulders. “Kill me. Do it. Finish the job you started. Live with yourself afterwards. Live your sad, average, miserable life and feel free to tell me if it’s worth it in the end.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Betsy holds her palm up in a quieting motion, looking only slightly tipped off by Kevin’s blowout. It was probably the last thing he’d ever say to Andrew — probably the last thing he’d say at all, if Andrew’s murderous wishes were to be fulfilled — and he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. “That’s enough, you two. Kevin, do you understand how heavy of an implication that is? You cannot take it back. You know Andrew’s issues with being taken advantage of.”

“But isn’t it, doctor? Isn’t it being taken advantage of?” Kevin spits out, “Isn’t it taking advantage of someone to hurt them from a position of power, thus rendering them unable to defend themselves? I think it is. I think I won’t allow him to make me seem crazy for being angry.”

Betsy blinks for a few seconds, searching for Andrew’s eyes. Andrew, on the other hand, is perfectly still, frozen from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. There is no pride in Kevin to have made him like that — there is only tiredness, so deep it settles in his bones. His bones; the place he knows Andrew the best in. Kevin sighs, “I’m trying to get better. I’m trying to. But I can’t do that with you using me as your punch bag because you know I won’t hit back, Andrew. I can’t do that.”

“I did not mean to,” Andrew says in a whisper, almost a prayer. “I did not mean to.”

“Andrew,” Betsy calls, her tone unwavering, “breathe. Breathe. You can’t fix this if you’re having a panic attack. You’re with me, you know this. You’re in my office at Palmetto State University. You are safe. You are having a joint session with Kevin.”

“I did not mean to hurt you,” Andrew repeats, and it’s the most vulnerable Kevin has ever seen him. Something in his chest recoils sadly at the sight. “I did not mean to take advantage of you. I was just— Neil— I lost control.”

Kevin purses his lips, allowing his bruising heartbeat to will down. “I know you didn’t mean to be cruel. That doesn’t mean you were kind.”

“Okay,” the therapist sighs, adjusting her glasses. “Okay. Andrew, I don’t think Kevin shouldn’t be allowed to manifest his anger in a controlled environment. You hurt him in a way that hindered his own recovery, and triggered memories of his own abuse. You did not mean to bring those memories back, but it has happened all the same. Kevin, do you think this could be fixed?”

He wets his lips, gently thumbing along the skin of his throat where sickly yellow, green and purple bruises were only a few weeks ago. Andrew follows his movements almost obsessively, and something glossy shimmers under the layer of apathy Kevin knows too well; guilt. Self-loathing. Kevin huffs a soft sound, and answers honestly, “I don’t know if I can forgive it in a way that’s healthy.”

She nods. “Thank you for your honesty. Andrew, do you think there is anything you could do to make it up for him?”

Andrew exhales shakily. “He could hit back.”

Betsy frowns, but Kevin beats her to whatever she was going to say by uttering, “No. I won’t put my hands on you.”

It makes Andrew offer him a weird look, though he’s still far, far away, the guilt now a lot more emptier; cotton-white. He looks speechless, so Kevin completes it for him: “I’m not like them. I’m not like…” like you, he wants to say, but wills it away; it would be too cruel. “I’m not going to hit back. I just want… I don’t know, Andrew. I don’t know what you want me to do and I’m tired of having no choice. I'm tired of having the yes choked out of me.”

“I will make it up to you.” Andrew steadies his gaze onto Kevin’s face, gripping the armrest of his chair until his already pale knuckles turn white. It sounds like a promise. “I will make it up to you. You have my word.”

It doesn’t mean much to me right now, Kevin wants to say. Instead, he answers, “Okay,” because really, what else is there to do? Andrew’s word is the best he can offer. There is nothing else he can promise and not even Exy can mend — whatever this is. Whatever Andrew has made of them.

“Is there anything else you want to say, Kevin?” Betsy asks, gently, her words a feathery touch skimming down the side of his face.

Kevin doesn’t answer, staring directly at Andrew, wishing that he could at least hold his gaze for a second, a minute, a lifetime — enough that Kevin could peel back the years of apathy from him like jackets, meeting Andrew, for once, in all of his mess the same way he has met Kevin’s messes one too many times. “Yes,” he says, and Andrew snaps his gaze towards Kevin with something too akin to shame for it to be any comfort. Still, Kevin holds it like it’s a prize, challenges him, tells him something Andrew might have not believed until now: I am unbreaking. “Wash that look out of your face. It’s a waste of blood and sweat, and I won’t have it in my life or in my Court. You cannot break me. I am angry at you because you tried when you were supposed to have my back.”

“I know,” Andrew answers, his grief razor-sharp and stupefying. “I will not be like them. I will not be like him. I will make it up to you.”

“Good,” Kevin tells him, crossing his arms and baring his teeth. “I’m expensive to keep.”

Betsy looks like she wants to interrupt their relentless stare down; Kevin’s muddy green meeting Andrew’s forest fire hazel, a battle of wills years in the making. Kevin might not hit back outside of Court, but he does not pull away — he is not the man to do it. If it aches in Andrew, then it should ache and ache and ache, until it balances out the pain he caused; until he rots into something new.

He is just a boy, barely a man, a shadow of what someone with such unrelenting morality should be and act like. Kevin looks at him — really looks at him, no bias clogging his mind, and what he sees is what he’s always seen; a boy.

Leave it to the rest of the team to mistake Andrew Minyard for a hero or a villain. Their eyesight is filtered through their own self-beliefs, their opinions are based on their inability to believe others have the same nuance and complexity they believe themselves to have. Kevin Day, though — he has always had perfectly sharp vision, and he cannot be fooled by sharp knives and dead eyed gazes. He came from men much worse; he sat with the horrors of the world, unflinchingly, long before Andrew did.

If Andrew could only be what he pretends he is.

#all for the game #aftg #kandrew #kevin day #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #neil josten #my writing #kevin #andrew

426 notes · View notes

silentsockfeet · 3 years

Text

okay it’s been a while since i last did one of these updates so here’s some stuff i’ve been working on for school! under the cut bc i have no self control and it got long

so after the lamp we started working on a really intricate antique radio which was tough but a lot of fun too. we were taught how to start from negative space and build out from there. we also had to plan out mesh flow (basically just the organization of the lines) so that we’d have an easier time of putting everything together later

(and some photos for reference)

then my next assignment was to texture a bucket (the model was already given to us). so i used photoshop to make a color map (a map that just has. the colors.), a bump map (a map that adds depth to objects, making elements BUMP in or out of an object), and a specular map (which determines how rough or glossy an object looks). bump and spec maps are all greyscale. the lighter something is on a bump map, the more it pops out, and vice versa. and the lighter something is on a spec map, the more it shines, and vice versa.

so here’s a rendered version of my final bucket:

there was also a week where we learned how to use substance painter to make textures instead of doing it in photoshop. substance painter is cool because it uses what’s called physical-based rendering to make the textures, meaning that you can literally paint the textures onto the object and the software shows you what it looks like in real time. with photoshop, i had to make edits, then upload the files into maya and attach them to the model to see what my bucket looked like, then go back to photoshop and make whatever edits i wanted, then rinse and repeat til i lost my mind. substance made it much quicker and easier. here’s a pumpkin i textured in substance:

(it doesn’t look as good bc i’ve been too lazy to sit down and learn how to render objects in substance. forgive me)

then after THAT we did another week of complex modeling where i made this toy wheelbarrow. this assignment was just about getting us used to modeling smoother, more complex objects.

and now i’m working on my final project, which spans over three weeks. for the final we get to pick out a teapot from online and recreate it, so i found this one that i liked and then this past week was spent modeling it.

this was a fuckin BITCH to make let me tell ya, one of the requirements was that the spout had to be connected to the pot, so i had to figure out how to attach them without messing up the smoothness of the model. surprisingly that was pretty easy, the little doohickey on the end of the spout with its little thing sticking out to open it was what really kicked my ass. that and adding the finger dents into the handle. i don’t think any of those words make sense i apologize. i’m probably gonna do a more in-depth post on this pot later since it’s a longer project than usual. this week we’re doing the prep work so that next week we can start texturing

so anyways that’s what i’ve been up to lately! i’ve been working on a couple of side projects too but only one is finished and this post is already long so i’ll probably talk about those some other time. if you’re somehow still reading this, thank you for sticking through my rambling and shitty explanations

#if any of that didn’t make sense. which is likely since i’m shit at explaining things. feel free to ask about it #i like talking about this stuff because it’s cool and i really love doing it #personal #my posts #updates

13 notes · View notes

rachelbethhines · 4 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzel’s Return Part 1

We’ve finally made to season three and the entire reason why I made this review series. This season features some of the worst writing I have ever witnessed in a television program. And this season kicks off with the third worst episode of the whole series. Rapunzel’s Return is the iceberg that sinks this show and manages to assassinate everyone’s character.

Everyone’s.

Summary: Inside the House of Yesterday's Tomorrow (as seen off screen in "Rapunzeltopia"), Cassandra is greeted by the Enchanted Girl, a spirit who reveals that Cassandra is the biological daughter of the late Mother Gothel, who abandoned her on the night she kidnapped infant Rapunzel. Enraged that Rapunzel has been (unknowingly) overshadowing her for the entirety of her life, and that she will always be unfairly overlooked, Cassandra snatches the Moonstone Opal, absorbs it, and declared Rapunzel's destiny as her own. She manages to escape from the group and cuts all ties with them, with Rapunzel unable to wrap her head around the entire situation. The group returns to Corona and find that it has been taken over by Varian, who has aligned himself with Andrew and the Separatists of Saporia to erase the King and Queen's memories and enslave Corona's citizens.

Plot Hole Number One: Why Would Cassandra Just Blindly Follow A Ghost While Trapped Inside a Haunted House?

Outside of that one snarky remark, Cassandra never stops to question the literal ghost who is bossing her around. The ghost she met in a creepy haunted house. A haunted house that she was already suspicious of before ever going in and that has tried to kill her and her friends many times now.

Cassandra, the most distrusting and cautious of of individuals in the show thus far, just suddenly decides to leave her brain behind from this point forward for no given reason whatsoever.

If you have to dumb down your main character and have them behave OOC in order to get your plot rolling along, then you haven’t a good plot.

Plot Hole Number Two: Cassandra Sees for Herself How Awful Gothel Was to Her Here, So Why Would She Obsess Over the Woman?

Forgetting for a moment that Cass very well knows that Gothel treated her best friend like shit and tried to murder her other friend, Eugene, as evidenced by Quest for Varian; Cassandra can see for herself right here that Gothel is a crap person who never treated her right.

I mean there’s denial, and then there’s flat out stupidity. Cass being hurt by the this reveal is one thing. Cass believing that Gothel really loved her and blaming everyone else for her death is totally another and not based in any kind of sensible logic.

Plot Hole Number Three: Why Would Gothel Even Have a Child to Begin With?

Look, I’ll accept that the flower can deage Gothel enough for her to get laid and bare a kid, but that only brings up the question of why she would keep said kid?

She kept Rapunzel cause she needed her powers in order to stay alive, but Cass? What reason would she want to have Cassandra around? A baby can’t do chores for you and it's a hell of a lot of work to raise one. Plus the show repeatedly tells us over and over again that Gothel doesn’t really love her or even likes having her daugther around so... yeah, what is the point of this? Why didn’t she just drop Cass off at an orphanage to begin with?

You can’t make this type of reveal and have it go against the what we fundamentally know about the characters without explaining why they would partake in such actions.

This is Manipulative Writing

But of course the real reason why this flashback and “twist” exists is just to manipulate the audience into feeling sorry for Cass. It’s not here to actually enhance the story, further the characters, nor answer any mysteries in any real way. That’s why it’s such a poor plot point.

It’s setting up the viewers to have a bias so that they’ll more readily forgive Cassandra for her irreprehensible actions later. In short, it’s the same bullshit that the writers pulled for Frederic back in season one. Only it makes even less narrative sense here because this ‘tragic backstory’ is so divorced from later events in the story.

It’s also flat out lazy because all it’s doing it slapping Rapunzel’s backstory onto Cass instead of letting Cassandra be her own character with her own battles and character development to have.

And before you say, “well that’s the point”, then let me tell you it’s a stupid point. One that makes zero sense for the character and is insulting to the audience’s intelligence.

Plot Hole Number Four: Why Didn’t Gothel Just Stay Hidden Till the Soldiers Left?

Hell, why did Gothel even come back here? We already established that she doesn’t really care about Cass and it’s a plot point that’ll only be further reiterated as the season goes on, so why? Why would Gothel behave like this? How does this help her in her goal? Gothel’s suppose to be smart remember?

Plot Hole Number Five: How Does Any of This Logically Help Zhan Tiri?

So Zhan Tiri is the blue ghost girl and while the series tries to keep it a secret reveal for later, it’s pretty obvious from the get go, so I’ll just be calling the character by her name.

Anyways, Zhan Tiri’s plan is to show Cassandra her past, in order to make Cass angry enough to steal the moonstone and fight Rapunzel, so that the two powers fighting each other will then release her from her interdimensional prison.

Now ignoring how literally none of that was set up nor previously established, and ignoring that Zhan Tiri’s disciples were trying previously to stop the sundrop and her friends from getting to the moonstone, thereby undermining their master’s plan; just how exactly is any of this suppose to work?

Why would showing Cassandra how her mother was a shitty person somehow make Cass angry at Rapunzel, angry enough to try and kill her even, and somehow keep her angry for months on end, in order to fulfill this clearly illogical action that holds no personal benefit to herself?

I don’t mind Cassandra becoming a villain; I just want it to make sense.

This does not make sense.

Not only does it require incredible leaps of logic and Cassandra acting out of character to work, it also depends far to much upon conquincidence and things playing out just in exactly the right way to benefit Zhan Tiri and her poorly laid out plan.

Would it not have made more sense for this “evil master manipulating worlock” to just, you know, lie?

Like shouldn’t she be trying to make Gothel look good? Shouldn’t she be trying to make it all seem like Frederic’s fault (which it mostly is anyways)? If you want Cass to attack Corona and turn against Rapunzel, then why not lie about their involvement or tell some half truth?

Or better yet why not make Gothel and actual complex figure for real?

Ugh... I got to move on from this point, but believe me, we will be back to this dumbfuckery in later episodes.

Plot Hole Number Six: You Can’t Just Ignore that Cap Exists and Is the One Who Raised Cassandra for Most of Her Life

Like I’m sure finding out that you mom was a piece of crap who abandon you hurts, but that doesn’t automatically erase the fact that Cass’s dad was there for her, raised her, and loved her for the majority of her life. I’m not saying that Cap is perfect, but he at least tried to do right by her (and is consequently the best parent in the show) and Cassandra is old enough to recognize that fact. Pretending otherwise is a disservice to everyone. It’s a disservice to the Captain, to Cassandra, to Rapunzel, to Gothel, and to the viewers watching along with this BS.

Trauma Doesn’t Make You Suddenly Stupid

Look, I’m not downplaying Cass’s trauma here. She is allowed to feel upset and yes trauma is painful and effects us all in different ways. Also yes, past trauma can carry on through into adulthood and still harm you.

However that’s not an excuse for hurting others. Cass’s trauma isn’t any less traumatic than any of the other characters’, but neither is it somehow more important than any of theirs. She doesn’t get a free past to step on people just because she was sad once.

Cassandra is, once again, old enough to know this and more importantly smart enough to realize that what happened in the past, if even true, has nothing to do with what she is currently dealing with right now.

Like why is she believing any of this? Why is she still listening to the suspicious ghost that she met in a magical house that’s tricked her and her friends numerous times before? Why would finding out her mom was shit make her turn that anger against her best friend? What does any of this have to do with her current struggles with trying to build up her career or staying friends with Raps?

Remembering past trauma does not make your brain shut off. Even having a mental breakdown or panic attack still does not render you completely senseless and anything done under extreme pressure like that is temporary. You don’t wind up acting bananas constantly for over a year.

As a woman who suffers from complex-PTSD and is an abuse survivor myself, Cassandra’s story is deeply offensive to me. Not the least of which because it actively dumps her down.

This Is the Point Where Cassandra’s Character Gets Assassinated

Like I said in the opening, everyone’s character gets assassinated in this story. Cassandra just happens to be the first to die and it’s right here with this line.

Not only is this line incredibly cringy and poorly worded, and I have to just feel sorry for the VA here cause there’s no way to make this much stupid sound good, but it’s also completely divorced from what’s going on.

Cassandra is suppose to be explaining to her friends why she’s stealing the moonstone and her answer is “I’m this dead bitch’s daughter”? Like oookaaay, and that has what to do with it exactly?

Did Gothel have any connection to the moonstone? Does stealing the moonstone somehow bring her back or fulfil her revenge? What does grabbing the moonstone actually gain Cass and what does that have to do with her dead abusive mom?

The reason why Cass doesn’t work as a villain because she has no goal nor reason for doing what she does. She just lurches from plot point to plot point with no idea of what she is doing nor why she is doing it.

But watch as the show keeps digging in its heels and keeps insisting that Cassandra’s connection to Gothel is totally a sympathetic motive even as it makes less and less sense every damn time it's brought up.

What Does Destiny Even Fucking Mean Any More???

What Destiny?!

There is no damn destiny. There is no prophecy to fulfil, no world to save, no consequence for just having everyone sitting on their asses for two whole seasons. And even if there was a destiny to even steal; why would Cass even want it? What does actually she gain from any of this? And how does any of it connect back to Gothel?

This Should Have Been the Point of Resolution Not the Inciting Incident for Their Break Up

Look no idea is without merit. You can make the stupidest sounding idea engaging if you present it right.

This was not presented right.

If Cassandra being Gothel’s daughter was to hold any meaning to the story, then it needed to be what brought her and Raps back together again, not what broke them apart.

Rapunzel says it right here. Logically this should be common ground for the two of them. There’s no real reason for Cass to direct her anger at Rapunzel over this.

But this show doesn’t care about logic, reason, or treating it’s audience with intelligence. It’s just flashy bullshit “drama” that pretends to be deep but is really a shallow puddle once you stop to think about it for two seconds.

Let’s Talk About “Sisters”

Cass’s face just says it all doesn’t it?

The creator, Chris, wanted to make a story about two “sisters”, because he has two daughters and he thought that would be inspiring and speak to little girls everywhere.

It’s a nice sentiment. Shame he’s so utterly incompetent at it.

There was no build up to them being sisters. Instead all we got was a bunch of meaningless parallels and a very toxic friendship. Even with the Gothel reveal the connection to them being siblings is tenuous at best because there’s no biological relation and more importantly, they weren’t raised together.

Chris is basically trying to rip off the likes of Frozen or Guardians of the Galaxy here with Raps and Cass’s relationship but it doesn’t work when the two siblings in question didn’t actually grow up together. There’s no reason for Cassandra to project her anger at their abusive parent on to Raps because that parent wasn’t the one to actually raise her. And on top of that, said abuser is dead, and both her and Raps have separate guardians in their lives, so the jealousy angle doesn’t work either.

And to make it all the more confusing, Chris failed to inform his crew of this brilliant plot twist, so we now have two seasons of gay baiting put in by the storyboard artists hitting that Cass is in love with her “sister”, And because the hardcore Cazzpunzel stans are the only fanbase that hasn’t given Chris the boot, there’s still even more gay baiting to come.

Why are We Victim Blaming a Baby?

Seriously, Cass? You are twenty four and have a brain. Why are you blaming someone for being kidnapped as a baby? What kind of sense does this make?

Worse, there’s plenty of real shit Cass could get angry at Rapunzel over and this is what you go with show?

If anything Rapunzel should be the one who is pissed here. Cass got to escape and lead a normal life with a loving father all because she got kidnapped as baby. And now said bitch is trying to gaslight her while stealing the very thing she’s been risking her life to grab for a year now.

No You Haven’t Cass

Once again, you got to live a normal life with a loving Dad. You had plenty of chances to build relationships and further your career for 18 years while Rapunzel was trapped in a dang tower, and Rapunzel returning from said tower didn’t cut you off from anything. In fact Rapunzel being rescued from the tower actually presented more opportunities for you and you spent all of season one climbing up the ranks.

There’s Nothing In the Show to Back Up This Statement

Nothing is at stake. There’s no threat here other than Cassandra herself. Cassandra is dranger to the world here not the moonstone. If you wanted it to be the other way around then you should have kept the rocks active during season two.

So Why Didn’t We Go With the Original Set Up From Season Two?

As said before, there are real reasons that were set up during season two that could have motivated Cass.

Rapunzel is irresponsible and can’t be trusted to save the world

Rapunzel is a shit friend and Cass is better off going her own way and leaving everyone high and dry.

Cass’s hand was injured by Raps and the moonstone might be able to heal it

Cass sees the injustice in the class system and wants to fight back against the royals in order to help everyone, not just herself.

Cass might believe she’s stopping Zhan Tiri and not realize she’s being manipulated by her instead

Or is playing along with Zhan Tiri under the idea that she can stall for time figure out how to stop her.

Cass wants to play her and use the power of the rocks to save people only for it to go wrong later.

Possession (which was the original idea in the concept stage)

Like I said, there were plenty of ways to make this work. In fact some are so dang obvious that you’ll hear Cass fans try to claim that a few of those are what her real motivation was despite the the show clearly going against them later. The “fighting against the class system” is a real popular one despite the fact that Cass herself attacks a bunch of poor people repeatedly and doesn’t seem concerned about anyone but herself.

But I digress.

The real reason why we have this bullshit is cause Chris doesn’t want to hold his favs accountable. Rapunzel’s flaws can’t be called out in any meaningful way and Cass gets a convenient scapegoat in Zhan Tiri.

In short both Cassandra and Rapunzel have their agency stolen away from them by the narrative, while still trying to pretend that they’re “strong independent women”. Even though those two things aren’t compatible at all.

What Exactly Have You Been Denied Cass?

Remember Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs?

Lance, Eugene, and Lady Caine were all denied physiological and safety needs while growing up in an orphanage and then later on the streets as a thieves.

Rapunzel was denied psychological needs while being raised by her abuser.

Varian was denied everything on that dang list.

Cassandra tho?

Trauma or no trauma, Cass was still raised in a safe and loving environment for the majority of her life. She, at best, has been denied “self-fulfillment” needs and even then that’s a stretch cause throughout season one we see her time and time again gaining what it was she wanted.

Cassandra isn’t anything special. She’s not suffered any more than anybody else in the show and in fact has lived a pretty cushy life when all is said and done, especially when compared to other characters in the show.

The worst that she has to complain about is working a crappy job for a little while and having a shit mom that she can barely remember. Boo Fucking Hoo.

Note How Easy It Is For Cass to Control the Rocks Here

The show can’t even keep Cassandra’s powers consistent. Like everything else about the character, Cass’s powers come and go as is convenient for the narrative with little explanation as to why.

This Song Doesn’t Work Because It was Cut In Half Due to Time

I’ve talked about the problems with this song before in my songs from TTS ranking list. It’s choppy and consistent. Yet it only feels that way because it was cut down. It’s missing a full other verse, second chorus, and a bridge.

Which is inexcusable because there’s so much dang filler in this show!

We could have had time for the full song if they had just cut one of the non-essential episodes and made all of this a full episode on it’s own. Just save the Corona and Varian stuff for later if need be.

The management of this show is just atrocious.

Why Wasn’t This the Cliffhanger for Season Two?

Speaking of making all of the Cassandra stuff it’s own episode... Everything we just seen should have been in season two.

It’s more connected to what happened last season, it flows better, it would have had more time to breathe, and it would have given us more time in the Dark Kingdom. Given as that this is what season two was building up too, it would have been more satisfying there.

And if the writers still wanted a cliffhanger to end the season in order to draw crowds then this right here was it.

So We We Spent A Whole Season Getting Here and We’re Just Going to Leave Now?

The Dark Kingdom is Wasted!!!!

And because the Dark Kingdom is a bust, the entirety of season two now feels even more pointless.

Chris said he cut the Dark Kingdom stuff because it didn’t interest him.

Chris is a fucking fool.

Ignoring that different people will gravitate towards different things and you need to keep that in mind when writing for mass audiences; you don’t spend valuable time setting things up just to drop them later.

If you didn’t like that particular plot thread then you needed to just not bring it up to begin with. Once you’ve put it in there you need to commit to it.

Behold the Only Thing Useful Shorty Does This Whole Season

There is less Shorty overall this season which is ultimately a good thing, but it does highlight what a stupid decision it was to bring him along to begin with.

I mean did we really drag him around for a whole season just for this? Couldn’t some other Pub Thung or townsperson have found them? One that could talk.

Adria Gets Put on a Bus

Adria doesn’t get assassinated like some of the other characters, but she does get unceremoniously shoved off without any real closure. The character will return later in the season, but brainwashed and without any lines. Which is doubly insulting to the VA who voices her.

And Here Is Where Lance Gets Assassinated

Lance is drastically dumbed down in season three. Even more so than in past seasons. You could call it flanderization specifically, more so than assassination, but the effect is the same. Lance’s character is effectively dead from this point onwards.

Also this should have ended the Lance & Adria ship in the show for good. She flat out rejects him here, but nope.

Eugene is the Only Person Acting Like a Real Human Being This Episode Thus Far

Edmund spent his whole life protecting the moonstone. He lost everything to it. He was convinced that letting Rapunzel take it would be best only for her to lose it right afterwards. And what does he do? Immediately become the “comedicly bad dad” in show oversaturated with both comedic foils and poor father figures.

Meanwhile Eugene is the only one properly responding to what is going on. Don't expect that to last.

I Thought You Left Cass?

Remember that foreshadowing with Quirin way back in the pilot?

This is just that, but dumber.

There’s no reason for Cass to hang around out of sight only to stare menacingly at Rapunzel and company as they leave. It’s just a lazy hook to get viewers to believe that there might be more going on with Cass then what we’ve been told. There’s not.

So This Map Proves That the Dark Kingdom Is North East of Corona

Continuity and worldbuilding in this show is utterly garbage, so I’ll latch on to any little scrape of info that we get.

According to the map shown here, the balloon is heading Southwest back to Corona. That means the Dark Kingdom is Northeast.

So if Corona is somewhere in Northern mainland Europe that means the Dark Kingdom is either in a Nordic country (Norway,Sweden,Finland, ect) or Russia.

Meta Jokes About Being a Bad Writer Doesn’t Excuse Bad Writing

Get use to this. Season three is full of meansprited meta jokes that try to defend against the quite frankly valid criticism that the show has received. Or more specifically the criticism Chris had received.

Most of season three was written during the hiatus of season two back when Chris was seeing backlash from the fans due to his PR fiasco and that’s not even taking into account the crew walkout after season one.

Not only is that too late to be writing your final season, but it’s also reflective of how Chris can’t handle critique with grace nor listen to other ideas as jokes like this are in poor taste.

Everyone Acts Shocked Here but Honestly this Fits King Frederic’s MMO

This is the same guy who prosecuted poor people for eighteen years with his crack down on crime, and thrented the life an orphaned teen. Is anybody really surprised by this?

I Thought Your Real Name was Hubert?

I guess he just prefers the name Andrew. I don’t know. But what do know is that “the devil is in the details” is a thing my animation teacher in college use to say repeatedly, and no one working on this show seems capable of remembering or keeping up with details.

Why Are There Only Five Saporains?

Saporia was set up as an entire race of people who’d been displaced from their homeland for generations. They’ve been living as nomads for centuries according to season two. Why are there only five of them in this episode?

How did they overthrow a kingdom with only five people? How do they maintain hold of it with only five? How do they expect to further their bloodline and culture with only only five of them?

Why did we waste money on a bunch of one off villians that we sent packing in season two and not built more Saporian models instead?

Like you could have had the core five here, as like leaders, and then imply that there are more of them with background citizens and guards ect.

NO!!!

WE DO NOT IMPLY THAT A 15 YEAR OLD BOY WAS LOCKED IN A JAIL CELL WITH A GROWN MAN FOR NEARLY A YEAR!!!!!

I.... What?!

Who the fuck thought this was a good idea to put in a children’s show?

Did no one behind the scenes stop to think, “Hun, maybe we shouldn’t suggest that a teenager was trapped inside a small enclosed space with no way out twenty for hours a day with an adult who attempted to murder his girlfriend when lying to her stopped working. Perhaps someone might get the wrong impression.”?

Like I hate censors as much as the next person, but editors work in the business for a reason, and that reason is to pull the artists aside sometimes and go “Hey, that shit don't fly with normal folk.”

What’s worse is I don’t think the writers were even trying to be shocking and edgy here. I just think they were careless. They needed a quick exposition dumb to explain how Varian and Andrew know each other, and didn’t think through the implications of that line nor considered how Varian’s age changes the context of his situation.

Which is beyond inexcusable because it’s so damn lazy!

You wouldn’t need rushed exposition had you actually took the time to set up this plot point back in season two. Heck, you wouldn’t have needed to even set this plot point up had you not cut Varian’s original story out at the last minute. Finally, you should care enough about your characters to at least take their age into consideration when writing their development.

There’s also the fact that it makes most of the ‘heroes’ look like assholes.

We’ve seen these dungeons several times throughout the show. We know of their poor conditions. There’s little light, the food is slop, there’s no way to stay clean or use the restroom, prisons are never let out for exercise, ect. Like these are medieval style dungeons that are considered inhumane my modern audiences.

Just because the show tries to play off the horribleness of it for laughs doesn’t mean the audience is going to find it funny that they traumatized a fifthteen year old with it.... again!

Moreover Frederic had promised last time we saw him that he would give Varian help. He idea of ‘helping” Varian is supposedly to throw him into a nasty jail cell with a violent criminal? WTF? And there’s no indication that he tried anything to save Quirin either.

Not to mention that none of the mains act surprised by this revelation, nor comment about how awful Varian’s treatment is. As usual for them.

It’s just sicking and most of the atempts to explain away this line by the fans have been super pathetic.

“Frederic was giving him therapy while in jail” - there’s nothing to indicate therapy exists in this world and even if this were true it would be undermined by stupidly throwing him in a cell with Andrew.

“It’s not literal, Varian was in a separate cell” - once again there’s nothing to back this up and even if that were the case it’s not that much better because it’s still a dungeon cell with zero privacy and Varian would still be close enough to Andrew to talk to him thus invading his personal space to some degree or other.

“Well he tried to help but Varian wasn’t cooperative” - still not an excuse and there’s nothing on screen to back up this headcanon.

“It’s someone else’s fault.” - Who’s? Frederic is in charge of everything. The buck stops with him. If a guard did this without his knowledge then that means Frederic neglected his duties and his promise anyways.

“Well maybe it’s true, but Varian did a bad thing and teens who do really bad things get sent to prison in the real world too” - Not an argument. Teens aren’t typically jailed with adults and the conditions for modern jails are at least somewhat better than those in Corona. Plus kids being sent to jail in any form is major topic of controversy in today's time. I’ve already covered why trying teens as adults is a vile abuse of power in the real world; I shouldn’t have to mention that the current government throwing children in cages is a bad thing as well!

“Well that’s just part of the time period” - Doesn’t make it right, and sadly it’s not something in the distant past either. It’s currently happening right now in the US. It was happening when this episode and season was being written. The writers unthinkingly threw in a very real thing that affects hundreds of thousands of children and didn’t bother to follow up on it or comment about how wrong it is.

There’s just no excuse for the way Frederic and Rapunzel treat Varian in this show. There’s just not, and some of y’all really need to stop trying to do so cause it means you’re inadvertently condoning real life abuses of power.

You can like a character and except that they’ve done wrong. That’s a thing that you can do, you know.

Let’s Talk about Character Design

For the most part the art direction in the show is top notch. It really is the best looking animated show on tv today, and the character design is usually of this same quality. But they really dropped the ball with Varian’s design here.

The structural bones of it isn’t bad. Taken on it’s own it would be fine, but good character design is supposed to give context and enhance the story and this doesn’t do that.

We’ve haven’t seen Varian in a year, but instead of visually showcasing the passage of time by having him physically age we just get season one’s design but in bargain bin hot topic clothes and a drawn on barcode.

Even the color palette is wrong.

Varian’s is suppose to feature blues and earthy browns to go with his eyes and hair but instead we get bright reds, neon chimballs, and sharp contrasts with blacks and whites that just clashes with his base colors.

And what does any of this tell the audience? How does it add to the story? What can we glean from his new design about what transpired in the last year?

Nothing.

At best it just reinforces that villian Varian is a try hard edge lord, but we already knew that. We would have known it even without the villain arc cause he’s a teenager. Not that he looks it. The boy is supposed to be either 16 or soon to be 16 and he still looks fucking 12.

What’s more they spent money on this. They made not one, but two new models with two new outfits, but they couldn’t be arsed just to make him a little taller? And no, he’s not actually any taller in season three. He was always Rapunzel’s height regardless of animation errors and squash and stretch techniques.

It’s a waste. Just like nearly everything in season three.

This Is Such a Cop-out

Speaking of things being a waste. Wiping Frederic’s and Arianna’s memories is taking the cowards way out. It’s them escaping any sort of meaningful consequence for their past actions and robs them of the chance to grow and develop as characters. All cause Chris didn’t want to deal with people pointing out the bullshit his self insert caused.

Well guess what, I’m still pointing out Frederic’s BS, only now I’m extra angry cause I was robbed of a genuine character arc, so fuck you!

Was Varian Actually Needed for This Plot?

No really. What does Varian even do here? The wand of oblivium is Saporian magic and they could and apparently did wipe the king’s and queen’s memories without Varian’s mindwipe concoction. That alone apparently gives them the power to run the kingdom.

All Varian does is give them some alchemy based weapons and a bomb he accidentally invents. Both are things that the Saporians could have made themselves given how they know apothecary according to Rapunzel Day One.

I’m currently in the middle of writing an AU fanfiction where Varian winds up in another world before the events of this episode, and let me tell you it is incredibly easy to write him out of the majority of season three without changing the plot much.

Given how Varian is meant to be a main character this season, that’s not a good thing.

So How Come None Of the “Heroes” Give a Shit?

Like I said above, none of the protagonists show the least bit of concern for what Varian is going through. Even though ignoring his needs is precisely what lead to this mess in the first place. It not only makes them look heartless, but it also makes them look plain stupid as well.

Why is it so hard to just even pretend to care about the fact he’s been orphaned? Half of them are orphans themselves for fucks sake!

Varian’s Not the One in Charge Here Rapunzel

I know Varian is the bigger threat and has more of a personal connection to Raps, but it’s pretty clear that Andrew is the mastermind behind this coup. What good does shouting at Varian do? What makes Rapunzel think that any of the Saporians would listen to him even if he did change his mind? What makes her think ordering Varian around after she helped ruin his life would get him to change his mind. Like, my gosh is Rapunzel dumb!

Why Are We Victim Blaming a Child Soldier?

That’s what he is at this point. He’s a weapons specialist for a rival kingdom fighting for control of the government. A government that has abused its own people leading to such an uprising.

A teenager may not be as blameless as a baby but it's still beyond callous and cruel to blame kids and young teens who join extremist groups in war torn lands out of desperation.

Is This Suppose to Be the Inciting Incident for Varian’s Redemption, Cause If So, That Makes No Sense

This look of regret is the only indication that Varian is questioning where he stands before his redemption in part two. Except there he points out that he’s been thinking about it for while now, even before Raps showed up. Only there’s nothing to suggest why Varian would suddenly change his view point and motives. So the audience is still in the dark about his thought process even with this “hint” and I use that word loosely.

Conclusion

So that’s the end of part one. I hope to have part two up before the week is out.

#tangled #anti-rapunzel #anti-cassandra #anti-tangled #varian #tangled the series #rapunzles tangled adventure

114 notes · View notes

proffesionalalpaca · 3 years

Text

SNK final chapter spoilers

Just to preface, I didn’t like it.

I am airing my grievances in a long rant this once to get it out of my system so I’ll never have to speak of it again.

What The Hell just Happened?!?!

Eren just did a complete 180 on his character Arc, rendering it useless, was a weird Incel and is apparently the one who was responsible for killing his mother!? His primary motivation in the cycle of hatred and war that is the literal Backbone of the entire narrative of SNK!? The source of his sense of hopelessness and powerlessness that motivates him to use such reckless and excessively violent force as his go to lifestyle choice.

I made a speculation before about Eren creating a narrative where he is the villain and his friends were the world heroes, so I was happy to get that right. But the execution was Lazy! And Armin! What the hell is he doing?! “Oh you committed genocide bro, I forgive you. BUT MIKASA! YOU SAID MEAN THINGS TO HER I STILL HAVEN’T FORGIVEN YOU!”

He just killed 80% of the world population but no let’s focus on the whole being mean to Mikasa bit (which was all pretend, but yeah still an arse move). Priorities!

Amin is the character who can see their way out of the Cycle of war and anger, it’s a part of his brilliance as a tactician. He always comes up with a better plan than Eren, one that’s less kill everything in sight and more ‘these are the 3 targets out of 1000, no collateral allowed’. Eren chops at the snake wherever he is, eventually killing it. Armin cuts off the head first.

Had Armin’s plan been to stop Eren by showing him that Genocide was unnecessary and meaningless to escape the cycle of war like he did in the Rebellion arc, it would have been a great clash of their differing ideologies.

AND HISTORIA! Don’t get me started on the Complete sidelining of one of the series’ best characters (and my favourite next to Jean), Like what is Her Baby’s name?! The father’s?! Supposedly she’s happy at the end with Farmer-kun? She definitely didn’t look happy with him the last time we saw her! And Eren, They were supposed to be the Enemies of Humanity, where did that dynamic go!? I’ll be honest given the way HISTORIA seemed to be a focus for Eren’s motivations this arc, I was expecting more! The whole “I’m not ready to sacrifice Historia.” Was a massive point of their relationship in the final arc! And she isn’t even Mentioned by any other character in the last few chapters, besides that epilogue panel where she doesn’t even Speak! She just became a weird loose end Isayama didn’t know what to do with!

Side note: because of all the above I did think Eren was the father because Why would it be a random, literally faceless character who got with one of the Main characters?

What. Was. The. Point!?

Alright I’m gonna calm down for this because I’ll say, I never shipped Eremika, it always felt one sided (pretty obsessive) and unfair on Mikasa’s part and Eren to me never reciprocated more than in a familial way. So Eren suddenly saying how he secretly never wants Mikasa to move on (at least for 10 years ew) and he’s an incel who literally never gave her any indication he loved her was just uhhhhh?! Try and separate even one thing about her from Eren, you can’t, he is the centre of her existence as a person and character.

Mikasa girl you deserve better.

The Founder Ymir, oh boy. I get what Isayama was trying to do, but the execution was extremely poor. To reveal she was actually in love with Karl Fritz the whole time (in a very unhealthy, abusive way) and that is why she kept this up for 2000 YEARS! What!

My interpretation before this chapter is that she did it purely out of hatred at the world that treated her like shit (paralleling Eren’s character) which was mixed with a weird Stockholm syndrome sense of loyalty (not love!), born from the fact that she didn’t know any other way of being as she was a slave from birth to death and beyond.

And again the awful parallels of them and Mikasa and Eren’s relationship was just, no.

Every female character seems to have been reduced to either dead or vapid love interest! Annie, in love with Armin so that’s why she helps. Gabi, Falco’s object of affection and would be dead had he not intervened multiple times. Sasha, dead. Mikasa, not even with her friends/family sitting by Eren’s grave all alone (actually a good visual of their relationship in my eyes, a loyally devoted woman in love and a completely unresponsive rock).

Except for Pieck, thank god! But to be fair she wasn’t in the story long enough to be ruined.

I could go on but I like my blood pressure to be normal and I’m just done with this.

It’s done, It’s finished and so am I.

#snk manga spoilers #snk 139 #snk eren #snk mikasa #snk armin #snk rant #snk historia

26 notes · View notes

how-about-you-rogal-dont · 3 years

Text

Wrote a thing, felt like sharing

some background:

I'm an aspiring writer, and I have a collection of CSM, CU, and general Chaos OCs do not steal blah blah blah (feel free to steal). I decided to write a bit about how their most recent addition joined the crew! Specifically, a Sororitas Meleficarum of the Order of the Verdant Chalice called Zethra. This bit of writing is a bit long, so I'll put it under a read more. TW for: violence, nurgle shit, space marines. Enjoy, feedback appreciated.

The inner halls of the Seventh Hell were a maze of lush gardens and fetid swamps, overtaken by the crawling filth that marched with Norvegicus’ every step. This ship had been under his sway for a very long time. Hives of unknowable daemonic parasites honeycombed the walls, squeaking rodents scuttled underfoot, and the buzzing of flies threatened to drown out any spoken communication. I could feel disgust rising in my throat with every step we took further into this despicably lush realm. It was difficult to read the other’s faces, sealed as they were beneath layers of steel and ceramite. None of us dared to bare an inch of skin in this place.

I looked over my shoulder, Cataphractii plate growling with killing instinct as my eyes fell upon Zethra. Despite her desertion from Norvegicus’ host, my skin still crawled at the thought of having my back watched by a member of the Plague God’s chosen. How much further? I did not bother holding my disgust away from the sending.

There was a slight click as Zethra tuned in over the vox. “Two hundred meters ahead, then we’ll be in the welcoming hall.” If she noticed my contempt, she did not care to remark on it.

“What manner of warship requires a welcoming hall?” Came Kalus’ voice a moment later. The duelist-marksman was walking with a casual gait, baroque bolt rifle slung over one shoulder. His helmet, like his armor, was the deep amethyst of his birth legion, with an obscenely loud crest of white feathers running down the middle. In all things, ostentation. Kalus never changed.

Djehouti spoke next. “This vessel was not always solely an implement of destruction. During the great crusade, when it still bore its original name, it would be host to all manner of dignitaries. Visitors from other legions, surrendering leaders of target systems, the like. Though I am surprised they have kept it for its original purpose.” Djehouti walked briskly, clearly struggling to keep up with the lumbering gait of my terminator plate. A brush against his mind revealed a certain distance in his thoughts, as though he were not entirely paying attention to the situation. I closed my mind off from the others, sending my thoughts to him and him alone.

Are you well, brother dearest?

Zandros. Yes, all is well. Forgive my absence. This ship brings back memories. Of course it did. It reminded him of our time aboard the Endurance during Horus’ rebellion. It stank of the same decay.

You are remembering our time as Ahriman’s emissaries to the Fourteenth. It was not a question. With my brother’s memory fading more with every day as the Wych’s toxins worked through his mind, any memory he could manage to grasp was worth ruminating on.

Djehouti’s response came slowly, tinged with more emotions than I could name. Yes.

We were younger then.

Young. Foolish. Power-hungry. A nostalgic smirk tinged his thoughts.

We might not have changed as much as we would like to think.

At this, he gave a single, forceful exhalation. After a moment of silence between us, with only the trudging squash of our armor against the filthy deck to break the monotony, he sent again: Zandros, should we survive this excursion, I have something to ask of you.

Anything, brother. What would you wish of me?

Djehouti smiled beneath his helm, coloring his thoughts with a whistful sadness. It can wait. I nodded.

“We’re here.” Zethra’s voice came abruptly, with a fuzz of static. I returned my gaze to the corridor ahead of us. It open up as we stepped forward, widening in size from a hive street to a grand causeway large enough to admit a Warhound Titan. It was here that Norvegicus’ touch was most evident. The ‘welcoming hall’ did not resemble the gilded splendor of an Imperial-built spacecraft. Instead, it was covered, every inch, in growths of flora both natural and empyrean. The room was lined with twisted, pale mangrove trees, drinking greedily from shallow pools of green scum that spread beneath their shade. A thick coating of mud covered the floor, with mushrooms of every color and shape sprouting from beneath the diseased soil. The walls were covered completely in snaking alien vines, bulbous pustules of ichor pulsing at irregular intervals. The ceiling was hung with lichen, smothering the lumiglobes almost completely. Cackling Nurglings stalked and butchered each other for sport in a twisted mockery of children at play. All in all, the room was so overgrown as to leave only a single foot path traveling down the center clear of the grove’s touch. But the centerpiece of the room was undoubtably the warrior standing sentinel at the far edge.

He was an astartes, and massive even for one of the XIV. Like I, he was clad in Cataphractii plate. That was where the similarities ended. His armor was a rich green, the trim a burnished bronze. He carried no visible firearm, instead leaning on a massive two-handed chainscythe. What singled him out amongst his brethren of the death guard was the total lack of decay visible on his armor. Not a single fleck of rust could be seen, not a single dribble of pus or twisting bone growth. Indeed, to the naked eye, he seemed completely devoid of Nurgle’s taint. But beneath that clean exterior, there was a certainty. A fear. Where other champions of the Seventh exemplified to terror of rotting flesh, the pungent smell of blight, this man seethed from within with the hushed fear of infection. Held breaths, averted eyes, a populace knowing there was disease among them, but not knowing when or from who it would come. He was the knowledge that every breath you take could doom you, that shaking your neighbor’s hand would have you dead within a week, the simple truth that you were not safe and that the threat could not possibly be fought against. His helm swiveled to meet our gaze, red lenses glinting in the sickly light.

“Miscreants. You walk the halls of hallowed ground. Your unholy sanitation is an affront to the beauty of these luscious halls.” His voice was deep and harsh, with the barest hint of a Barbarusii accent. The vox-grille of his helm rendering it a predator’s growl.

Mizi’s mind connected with mine in an instant. I’ve got a shot. The sending came with a series of images: Crosshairs held steady over a green helm, the kick of a rifle thumping against a shoulder, the red smear of a head bursting.

I stepped forward, my external vox opening with a barely-audible click. “I am Zandros Lucarian, and I speak for the Ashen Hunters. State your name, that I might know whose death I command.”

A series of sharp barks escaped the warrior’s helm. After a moment, I realized he was laughing at me. “You speak for a mongrel warband of bastards and thin-bloods. But you shall know my name. I am Holgius, seventy-seventh scythe of the Deathshroud.”

The minds of those at my side sharpened instantly. Before us stood a member of the Deathshroud, the chosen blades of the lord of the Seventh Legion. This was no petty champion, no pit brawler elevated above his brothers by savagery alone. His deeds had been enough to draw the attention of the Rotten King himself. To face him would be to invite ruin in a thousand different forms.

And so, of course, it was Kalus who stepped forward, twinned cutlasses slithering from their sheaths with a crackle of energy. “I’ve always wanted to kill a Deathshroud,” he purred. “Never thought that one would volunteer.”

Holgius did not turn his gaze from me. “Does this wailing peacock speak for you, Zandros Lucarian?”

A poorly-contained snicker distracted me as Mizi’s aura smeared with mirth.

“In as many words.” The challenge had been issued. Kalus knew this dance. Like the Samar-Hai of ancient terra, warbands were fond of sending champions forth to duel to the death before the commencement of a slaughter. It was clear that the rotting creatures that served as crew aboard the Seventh Hell understood the significance of Kalus’ headstrong challenge, too. Obese nurglings crowded the fetid canopy above us, clamoring for a better look at the contest. Through my sixth sense, I felt other, more ethereal eyes lock on to our plight.

The Gods were watching.

Holgius stepped forward, revving his chainscythe in a squall of tortured metal. Kalus did likewise, his blades twirling in lazy, lethal arcs. The Deathshroud regarded him for a moment, then rolled his shoulders into a hunched combat stance. My champion crossed his blades over his sternum, lowering himself into a catlike stance. “You seem confident.”

Holgius’ response was a husky, rasping laugh like a knife scraping the rust from ancient metal. “When set against such a meager creature as you? I see no reason why I should not be.” He had begun to pace their arena now, his boots trudging puddles in the floor.

Kalus raised his blades to compensate for his foe’s movement. “Now you seem overconfident.”

The first blow was struck faster than the eye could follow. With a snarl of servos, Holgius swept his weapon towards Kalus. Kalus was already ducking below, spinning into a strike that was both parry and riposte. The scythe roared harmlessly over his head, guided further upwards by a flick of his left blade. His right was already lashing out like a silver viper to bite into his opponent’s knee. There was a flash as the strike connected, but the armor held. Kalus danced out of engagement range, and I did not need my psychic gifts to see the wry smile spreading below his faceplate.

Holgius was already spinning, keeping the momentum from his first missed stroke into a crushing downward blow. I watched frantic realization bloom in Kalus’ mind as he realized that the warrior had guessed his plan, and was already striking towards where he stood crouched. Even he could not evade in time, and so he crossed his blades over his head, braced to take the strike. It impacted with a scream of micro-engines. Pain flooded Kalus’ aura as greenstick fractures began to spread down his arms. He was holding the blade, mere inches from his marble helm, but the clash of weapons was straining his swords’ power fields to their limit. Thousands of miniscule impacts from the teeth of the chainscythe built until the haze around the blades began to flicker and dull.

Kalus spun aside, letting the natural weight of his opponent’s weapon buy him precious nanoseconds as its tip ground against the muck. Two more flashing strikes thudded into Holgius’ side, opening deep gashes in the ceramite. Holgius lashed out with a hand, thudding a fist against Kalus’ helm. Kalus soared through the air, landing with a splat against a pale, warp-touched tree.

Holgius did not pursue his quarry, instead looking down at his dented armor. The gashes opened by Kalus’ strikes had not penetrated his plate. Neither had my champion angled his strikes for the weaker joints in his opponent’s hide. Holgius raised his gaze to Kalus, now standing with defiance in his eyes. “You are mocking me.” The barely-controlled rage beneath his voice shone like a beacon to my sight.

Kalus was rising from where he had fallen against the fetid flora. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” His breathing was ragged and labored; the pain that smeared his aura evident of a punctured lung. Still he stood, mischief painted across his stance as it was his face.

Holgius gestured to the rents in his armor. “Three strikes against me,” he said accusingly, “All of them botched. Every one could have been fatal. You are mocking me.” The grating fury in his voice had been restrained to a dull seething just below his skin.

Kalus shrugged. “Well…” He struck again, faster than we could see. Holgius swept his blade upwards, but too slow. Like lancing a boil, the blade in Kalus’ right hand plunged into Holgius’ forehead with terrifying ease. As his opponent wavered, not yet realizing he was dead, Kalus met his eye, their faceplates inches apart. “…Maybe a little.”

What happened next is difficult to describe. Not in terms of the physicality of the matter, for what took place was simple, if incredible. Holgius went slack, held aloft by misfiring nerves, hands twitching in the final throes of a death rightfully earned. And then… he bloomed. His armor split apart, ceramite shearing away and peeling back like the petals of a diseased lotus. In its place, bloated, pestilent flesh swelled and bulged outwards, throwing Kalus’ sword free. Knots of warped bone split forth from his shoulders, piercing skywards with the promise of infection. Row upon row of greenish fangs crowded his human teeth. While all of this happened, he was growing. We watched on in horror as he swelled from a giant of a man to a corpulent, heaving mass of filth. The Daemon within him, so well camoflauged until now, had been forced into the open by its host’s death.

What my sixth sense saw was altogether more complicated. In his human form, Holgius had been choked thick with the warp-spun false memories of a population terrified of the plague in their midst. Now, with his possessor revealed, those emotions took on a whole new context. Before me stood a daemon born of realization. For so long, the fear it gorged itself on had been limited to the sight of one’s neighbors covering their face, the scent of decay on the air, the primal certainty that something was terribly wrong. But here was the terror of a society advanced enough to look within, and realize that it was dying. The full extent of the infection revealed, and there was nothing to do but watch.

The thing that had been Holgius was on Kalus before my champion could react. Bloated, sore-pocked fists pummeled into Kalus with preternatural strength. A horrific shriek of tearing metal shuddered through us as Kalus’ breastplate split, caving inward under the force of the daemonic assault. Holgius grasped the broken pieces and hauled the cavity open even wider, exposing pale flesh to the diseased air of the Seventh Hell. A weak gurgle escaped from Kalus, carried to us over the vox. Holgius raised his fists to finish the job.

I commanded his death with a single word, spoken clearly and calmly over our group’s Vox.

“Mizi.”

The cracking report of a las-fusil accompanied the split-second in which the entire chamber was washed with red light. When the momentary blindness had cleared, Holgius stood slack-jawed over Kalus. Mizi’s shot had scorched a deep, blackened pit into his misshapen head. Steam curled from the crater as his dying mind struggled to comprehend what was going on. The daemon riding within his veins howled in rage as its handhold on reality began to slip away. As his spirit began to fade, Holgius met my eyes.

“C-co… ward…”

An insult that had long since lost its bite. I informed the Deathshroud as such, before tossing his limp corpse aside with a whim of telekinesis. I pulsed my orders throughout the chamber, calling my bound to follow.

Forward.

I was nearing the far end of the chamber when Kalus spoke. He was a ruin, his helm torn off to allow him to breath through a mangled face, his torso a bloody ruin, bone protruding near his pectorals. Still, he stood, swaying back and forth as he forced words out.

“I… would have… had him…” I smirked at that. A rudimentary scan of his mind revealed he truly believed it, too. He began to waver, and his legs would have given out if Mizi had not arrived at his side, steadying him. “I would have had him.” He repeated, firmly this time. Mizi shot me a look. I didn’t need my second sight to register the exasperation in her thoughts.

I am sure you would have, cousin. I extended a hand, willing his riven flesh to reknit itself. Kalus winced as the psychic impulses began to do their work. I am not so naïve to believe I can be rid of you that easily.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #chaos space marines #fanfic #mine

10 notes · View notes

soras-domain · 4 years

Text

General HeadGanons

hhaah I think I’m funny. First headcannon!

Warm reddish brown skin

Get that green shit outta here

Mhaps he’d have dark freckles or marks along his skin

Is totally space heater you cannot change my mind

Long dark red hair

Often tied up in a ponytail, small braids, or wild

Can have facial hair, young gerudo ganon will not

Wears typical gerudo fashion

Is def adorned with jewelry: gold, ruby, tigers eye, sapphire

I will not forgive you if he doesn’t have nipple piercings

Earthy/Desert style clothing/armor

Blues compliment him in my opinion

Big knee high boots

This man wears loose wraps when he escapes his Kingly duties

Very broad chested

Yes he has chest hair. No I will not change my mind

He towers over most Gerudo, Rito, Zora, and Hylians

There are exceptions like the royal line of Zora and around the same or taller with Gorons

Ganon should be around 9’10ft 600ish pounds

May have a few scars but I’d say you could count them on two hands

HaS ShArP CaNiNeS FIGHT ME

Mostly muscle but I’d bet that he does have some soft pudge to his tummy like I’d say it’s probably got to do with having kingly desk duties and overseeing tasks etc.

Under cut for nsfw and his personality

Speaking of desk duties I’d kill to suck his dick at the throne room in the botw gerudo castle with all the water flowing and the aesthetic atmosphere

His hips? On god they are divine the v leading down with like stray beauty marks?

I think his dick would probably be a good solid 8 or 9 inches

I’m not sure if its common or not for circumcising in loz? So it’s up in the air

Anyways I’d say it’s def on the large side of dicks. Probably on the girthy side

Has a good weight to it. Veiny yes nice slight curve that just hits differently

I have my own prefs for pubic hair it’ll differ for others

In my opinion I’d say he’d probably have it a bit unkempt. A slightly darker color red then the rest of his hair.

He may have piercings..who knows

His personality

He’s got a hearty, overconfident, perhaps a little abrasive personality

Raised by Warriors, Single mothers, and Traveling Merchants in the hot desert sun really gives character (or if you want to go by Canon the Twin Sorcerers Kotake and Koume)

I mean afterall according to Gerudo law when a male is born he is to be their kingSo I assume he never really had all that time with his father

His mother might move back home to the village but I just don’t have all the facts

He’s absolutely got a serious side to him quite terrifying

It reminds people that he is King and he does wield the Triforce of Power

He’s usually very charismatic and pretty much an epitome of an amazing King

NOthing like King Roam. King Roam is shit

King Ganon cares about his people and actual thinks shit through

He looks like a himbo but is too cunning for that

That’s not to say young ganon wouldn’t it’s all about experience

Young ganon has himbo tendencies but only when like dared to do things or bored

He’s the stupidest smart person I know

Hey dare him to shield slide down death mountain and watch this crazy bastard do it

He has a surprising amount of compassion for his people and their culture

So proud of his people and how far they’ve come

Would show you his view of the world that he’s come to love and respect

has a very hard time being “lazy”

bring this man to BED his stress is crazy

His soft side does extend for his s/o’s or any who come under his care

Wants to treasure and cherish s/o so deeply

So gently does he treat his s/o his heart belongs to them

Make no mistake he could crush you in an instant but you would render him so much more pain than he could ever inflict upon you

The man just wants to be able to prove that he’s not destined for evil

That he can love and be peaceful and kind

#breath of the wild #legend of zelda #rehydrated ganon #ganondorf #hc #ganon hc #headganon

43 notes · View notes

langdxn · 4 years

Note

James March Breeding Kink??? Please

I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to hear those four words! Thank you so much! BREEDING KINKS ASSEMBLE... this could be a long one 🥵

“I requested you dress up for dinner tonight,” James hummed contentedly while observing your figure, leaning back in his seat at the dinner table. “But I did not anticipate you dressing to outshine the dinner entirely.”

“I take it you approve?” Your coy question could barely conceal your pride in rendering your husband almost speechless with your attire, a plunging black lace number that exposed your navel as you leaned forward. “Will Drake designed it for me.”

“The man has more taste than I initially perceived,” James husked, slipping a finger beneath his tie to loosen the knot, visibly hot under the collar. “I am quite undone.”

“So what are we celebrating?” You nonchalantly twirled a dessert fork in the air.

“A couple checked into the hotel yesterday, a young man and his... his girlfriend,” James hesitated as if the words left a lump in his throat. “She was expecting.”

“You... you killed a pregnant lady?” Your brows furrowed, leaning closer over the table to close the gap between you. Concern and terror washed over your face, robbing your features of their colour and leaving a deathlike pallor in their wake.

“No, not at all, but that in itself is my dilemma,” James frowned, sweeping a hand down his face as he struggled to process his emotions and hold back some form of tears. “I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I stood back and watched them in the Blue Parrot lounge, I observed them billing and cooing over each other and I failed to do my work. They checked out this morning without a scratch between the both of them.”

“Why, James?” Rising to your feet, you teetered over to his side of the table on your impossibly high stilettos. Arriving at his seat, you nudged his plate away and perched on the edge of the table in front of him, resting your hands on his knees. “What stopped you?”

“You did, my hummingbird,” James sniffled, clasping your hands within his and locking a loving gaze into your eyes. “For the first time, I thought about how I would feel if you were in her shoes. If you were murdered in cold blood while you were with child.”

“Did you, did you just—“

James cleared his throat nervously, gaze darting feverishly around the room for a distraction.

“Forgive me, I digress… I realised I could never reconcile myself if I had slaughtered a life before it had even begun.”

“You said if I were with child,” you pressed further, causing him to uncomfortably fidget in his chair.

“I did?”

“James…”

Drawing his lip between his teeth and clenching ever so slightly that his cheeks dimpled, James nodded to himself and acknowledged the elephant in the room.

“Mrs March,” his voice broke softly. “Would you consider... would you be interested... could we possibly...?”

Draping your arms over his shoulders, you drew James in and fixed a haunting kiss to his lips. When you resurfaced, you spotted a lovelorn glaze over his eyes, frenetically searching your face for affirmation.

“I thought you would never want children,” you sighed through a disbelieving smile. “Especially after Bartholomew...”

“Bartholomew is not my son,” James snapped momentarily, his pout more prominent. “He is a vampire, which neither of us are, why should that prevent us from producing an heir to the Cortez?”

“Even so, could a human and a ghost conceive? Could that ever work? I might give birth to the antichrist or… a redhead.”

“Or,” James leapt to his feet, scooping his arms around your waist and dipping his head into your neck to plant searing kisses into your collarbone. “We could have the happiest, healthiest baby ever seen in your world and mine.”

Melting into his touch as always, every nerve in your body set aflame by his touch, by his sincerity, by his devotion, you let out a soft moan.

“The Countess,” you murmured, realising another obstacle in your path. “She’ll kill me the moment I start showing.”

“I will protect you, my love,” he hummed against your skin between pecks, his hands journeying up your spine and consuming every inch of you in his arms. “She will not be an obstruction to our happiness for one single moment.”

“James, I—“

“My darling,” he lifted his head to face you. “If you insist on conjuring innumerable reasons why we should not start a family, I should prefer if you rejected me more plainly.”

“No, no... James, that’s not what I’m saying,” you stuttered, reaching to cup his face in both hands. “I’m just scared. For you, for me, bringing a baby into this hotel, it’s a lot to think about.”

“I understand your trepidation,” James sighed, tapping his forehead against yours. “But answer me this: what does your heart tell you?”

Your gaze instinctively dropped to your chest, finally noticing your racing heartbeat caged inside. A blazing, unfettered fire within you as you contemplated the most monumental step in your relationship since you wed in front of the entire hotel years before.

“My heart says I want to have a baby with you, James Patrick March,” you beamed from ear to ear. “My heart says you would be a perfect father, certainly the only one that could show our child how to love with every fibre of your being.”

The same fire that raged in your own heart spread to James’, his eyes igniting with adoration as his hand rested on your abdomen, his palm flattening intently.

“In return, mine says you will be the perfect mother. The only mother that could show our child the love of the living, the love I can no longer express.”

You both gazed down to your stomach, looking on as his fingertips traced lazy circles into the lace draped over your figure. The palpable connection between you, the fierce kind of love that knew no bounds, coursed like electricity between your body and his hand.

As your eyes returned to meet each other’s, you both melted simultaneously into a passionate kiss, teeth recklessly clacking together as you closed the gap between you. Moaning weakly, your back arched into him as his one hand fiercely blazed up your thigh, hitching your skirt around your hips as the other executed his escape from his dress pants.

“J... James,” you stuttered breathlessly while he pulled you to the edge of the table, your dress rolling further upwards as you hooked your legs around his hips. “James, I need you—“

“Shh, hummingbird,” he cooed softly, swiping your panties to one side and deftly lining his tip with your already yearning folds. “Let me breed you.”

With one smooth buck of his hips, James buried his length inside you. Dipping into your neck to place more kisses into your delicate skin, James purred softly.

“You shall... you will look,” he stammered between elicit groans, his structured eloquence slipping with every swift stroke. “I won’t be able to resist you while you are carrying our child.”

Reaching to tousle his slicked hair through your fingers, you chuckled gently.

“James, you can’t resist me even when I’m not pregnant!”

A sharp snap of his hips reprimanded you for the comment, pressing his tip deep into your walls to force a gasp from your lips.

“The fact remains, Mrs March,” he grunted, rearing back to plow deeper inside you. “You will be the most beautiful expectant mother.”

“Even when I’m the size of the hotel?”

Another brisk thrust caught you deeper than he had ever hit you before, sparking a hollow, consuming burn inside that robbed you of all strength. Your head crashed against James’ chest, your back giving way beneath you and your legs losing their grip on his waist.

“Wait, darling, stay with me,” James panicked, clasping your head in both hands to hold you upright, his face fading in and out of view while your vision blurred frantically. “Please, stay with me.”

“James, I...” you stuttered weakly between egregious moans, your last remaining bolts of energy sent to constrict and pulse your walls around his length, a final wave of arousal gushing inside.

“It’s okay my love, I’ve got you.”

Your kaleidoscopic gaze returned to look into his eyes, ablaze with love and lust in equal measure. Caressing your cheeks as his hips keened desperately chasing his own climax, James smiled warmly.

“You will be a mother soon, my little hummingbird,” James moaned with his eyes fluttering closed, his thrusts slowing to a steady rock while his length twitched eagerly spilling against your walls. “You will be a mother soon.”

As you again collapsed against his chest, James wrapped his arms tightly around you, planting sincere kisses atop your hair.

“I...” he trailed off, exhausted.

“I... I know,” you sighed back, straining to curl your arms around him in return. “Do you think it worked?”

“Only… only time will tell,” James panted, holding you tighter and tighter with every fractured, weary word. “Would you object to another attempt after dinner?”

#james march x reader #james march x reader smut #james patrick march #james march #james patrick march x reader #james patrick march x reader smut #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters imagines #ahs hotel

390 notes · View notes

nearlymanaged · 4 years

Text

21. The Long Wait and James’ Exasperation

“Remus!” Suzy, a bespectacled Gryffindor sixth year with enchanted flowers braided into her hair, caught up with him.

“Hey,” Remus stopped, holding the portrait hole open for her.

“Thanks…” She breathed out as she climbed in with an armful of assorted spellbooks, quills, parchment, and ink bottles. “My bag broke today,” she explained.

“I’m sorry,” he offered a genuine smile. “My bag’s broken once, too. Granted, it was being held by James and Sirius. Who were flying on two separate brooms at the time. So maybe not quite the same...”

Suzy let out a tickled laugh and almost dropped half of her things just then. Remus, however, reacted in time and, with a flick of his wand, lifted all of the weight out of the girl’s arms. “Thanks again,” she beamed.

“No worries. Well, have fun with…” he gently pushed one of the books, floating mid-air, out of the way, “History of Magic,” he said after a glance at the cover. “Ah yes, the class that, six years in, has taught me how to take notes while napping…”

Suzy laughed again, taking over the steering of her possessions with her own wand now. “That’s actually hilariously accurate… Maybe we could work on our homework together sometime, for moral support?”

“I do lead a study group every Thursday… Although lately, it’s been more like every once in a blue moon, whenever we can squeeze it into everyone’s schedules...”

“Maybe you and I can have a private study group then?”

“Er…” Remus stammered while his brain worked to figure out whether Suzy was asking him out or genuinely trying to get some help with homework. For some reason, he thought, the older he got, the harder it was to read anyone. “I’m absolute shite at History of Magic..?” He attempted with a shrug.

“Then maybe I can tutor you some?”

Ah… It certainly sounded like the girl’s interests spanned beyond homework. A mild panic was setting in as Remus tried to come up with an appropriate response, but nothing came to mind. So he decided to just go for it, as clumsy and awkwardly as he knew it would come out.

Thing was, Remus never really came out to people. Yes, obviously he had been open about his sexuality with Vincent, and at this point, most (if not all) of his friends had caught on, and, matter of fact, he didn’t care if the whole school knew. He felt like a bit of a freak anyway, what’s another thing to add to the list? He just never went around talking about it. In all fairness, it was probably because he’d gotten used to keeping it to himself at home, with his dad around. He could hardly imagine having that conversation with his family (“Hey dad, guess what? I’m gay!”) so he had sort of pushed that idea aside and moved on altogether. But now, he inhaled deeply in anticipation...

“Suzy... I’m…”

“Alright, I’ll just say it… I just need a couple of bottles of butterbeer and I…”

“...ga-- What?” Remus froze all of a sudden, only his eyelids fluttering in a rapid succession of baffled blinks.

“Did you...just say you’re gay?” Suzy peered at him, looking no less confused than he felt.

“I…er...”

“I knew it,” someone uttered in a group of fifth years flocking around the nearest sofa.

“Nevermind that,” Remus mumbled while wishing to literally die right then and there. “You said you need butterbeer?”

“Ehm, yes. I know that you and your friends know where to get some…” Suzy, very graciously, employed a facial expression determined to ignore Remus’ little outburst.

He hastily assured her that he’d talk to his friends and get some butterbeer for her during their next expedition to a mysterious source that Suzy had no business knowing anything about anyway. Still feeling the burning embarrassment pulsing all the way from the pit of his stomach to the top of his head, Remus turned to run upstairs to put his stuff away and maybe suffocate himself with a pillow while he was at it. Before he could leave the scene of his mortification, however, he was beckoned over by the very giggly duo of Lily and Dorcas.

“Rem, did you just yell ‘I’m gay’ at--”

“Five points from Gryffindor.”

Lily let out a loud gasp that somehow ended with an indignant squeal. “James told me you do that…” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, but didn’t say another word about the topic.

“Welcome to the club, Remus,” Dorcas grinned at him. “I always knew there was a reason I liked you. Straight people can be so...intense sometimes -- no offense, Lily,” she finished with a smirk.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t judge all straight people based on Potter…”

Both Dorcas and Remus cackled at this. “What about you, miss I Hate This Arrogant Toerag But I’ll Still Spend Every Waking Moment Hanging Out Around Him?” Remus tilted his head rather eloquently with a little quirk of his eyebrows.

“Oh! Please! Pshh!” Lily started shuffling around in her seat with an outraged glare.

“That’s what I’ve noticed, too!” Dorcas beamed at Remus. “She can’t get enough of him lately, can she?”

“You think it has anything to do with him being Quidditch captain?”

“Well, straight people do seem to have a thing about sports…”

“Shut up, you idiots!”

“So - and forgive me for being so blunt - Sirius?” Dorcas beamed at Remus, evidently deciding that Lily’s had enough mortification for the time being.

“What about him?”

“Rumour has it, you’ve got the hots for the Black boy?”

“The rumour’s name wouldn’t happen to be Lily, would it?” Remus shot a pointed glance at the girl in question, but Dorcas merely chuckled at it rather dismissively.

“There’s also the fact that everyone in this school has eyes and ears, Remus. And some of us know how to use them, too. Question is, who’s going to make the first move?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Remus felt a kind of warmth flood over him - against his own logical thought, he couldn’t help but feel pleased to know that other people could see it. “Hard to say,” he mumbled through a grin that refused to be toned down.

“I think it should be you,” Lily stated matter-of-factly.

“How so?”

“Because, obviously, you’re the somewhat more sensible one.”

“I don’t think romance has much to do with sensibility, Lils,” Dorcas leaned back in her seat. “I think it’ll be Sirius. Precisely because he lacks it.”

“What are we, making bets on my life now?” Remus folded his arms over his chest; he only barely resisted the temptation to reference their very secret plan that he wasn’t supposed to know anything about.

“That’s a great idea!” Dorcas cackled at his feigned indignation.

“All jokes aside,” Lily beamed, “I have a feeling you two will get together soon. It’s Spring, after all. A time for new beginnings.”

“I thought you dropped Divination?” Remus pulled a funny face at her, pretending to be puzzled by her words.

“Yes. But, as Dorcas already pointed out, some of us have functioning eyes and ears.”

“And some of us might even know more than we let on…” Dorcas uttered, a faint smirk curving her lips.

Lily smacked her arm lightly. “Dee!”

“What?”

“What?” Remus echoed, his eyes darting between the two girls.

“Nothing. Dorcas has a strange sense of humour, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh… So anyway, speaking of new beginnings--”

“Oh will you drop it?” Lily cut across him rather sternly. “Even if I did agree to go out with him, so what?” She added quieter.

“Oh? I was going to say, isn’t it strange that the last summer of our Hogwarts years is almost here. But your thing is more entertaining,” Remus shot her a smug grin.

“Remus!”

“What?” He laughed out.

“And she might agree to go out with him sooner than we’d suspect, too.”

“Dorcas!!”

The three of them went on about sensible minds and love and sensible minds in love; mostly courtesy of Lily and Dorcas while Remus was quietly replaying every moment he’d spent with Sirius in the past few days, only occasionally offering a joke or a commentary. This was happiness, he thought. To have friends that cared (enough to devise some sort of a secret plan) and a boyfriend who was one of the best friends he’d ever had and one of the best people he’d ever known. This was happiness - being seventeen and in love and surrounded by good people, and it didn’t even matter that he had just embarrassed himself in front of Suzy and half the Gryffindors.

* * *

Remus looked like there was some kind of a magical glow about him as he sat there - bathed in sunlight streaming in through the high, narrow windows of History of Magic classroom, his chin in his hand, his quill unceasingly taking notes. There certainly was a distinct warm and bright afternoon laziness in the air, which rendered Sirius completely unable to pay the slightest bit of attention to Mr Binns’ monotonous recital of Gargoyle Strike of 1911 facts.

Instead, his gaze was resting on the side of Remus’ face, quasi-secretly taking in the way the sun glistened in his sand and honey coloured hair, the way that that one scar ran across the bridge of his nose like a vein of ore, the way that his eyelids lowered over his brilliantly green irises, the way his soft, yet always a little chapped lips feebly formed silent words here and there as he wrote them down...

“Sirius, you’re staring.”

“You’re just now noticing?” Sirius purred back at Remus’ whispered observation.

“I was busy taking notes, which you’ll be thankful for later.”

“I’ve been staring at you longer than that.”

“Stop it…” Remus mumbled, quieter now, a slight blush tinting his cheeks and ears, which Sirius noticed to his great delight.

“Surely, you don’t actually mean it, do you?”

“Stop it, Sirius…” He repeated with even less conviction in his voice.

“What do you think they’re planning? To get us together?” Sirius perked up slightly, genuinely eager to dive into speculation about the topic. In all honesty, anything that had to do with Remus had been his favourite topic lately -- or not so lately.

“I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it too,” the boy’s eyebrows slowly knit together over his thoughtful eyes. “I can’t imagine anything that would require James and Lily to go on a fake date.”

“You can’t use your own logic for this. We need to think like them,” Sirius grinned.

“Ah yes… We must think like someone who’s gotten hit in the head by a bludger more times than I have fingers.”

“Hey!” Sirius protested and then shrugged apologetically, remembering he was in the middle of a classroom. “I’ve gotten hit by a bludger too. Read the room, Moony.”

“So you have. That’s why I talk so slowly whenever you’re around,” Remus whispered and gave Sirius a smile that might have been intended as an expression of mischief but in reality looked more flirtatious than anything else.

“And yet,” Sirius leaned in a little closer, speaking a little quieter, feeling a little giddier, “I happen to be where you choose to lay your affections.”

“I never claimed to be perfect…”

“You’re such a tease, Moony.”

“You bring it out of me,” Remus mumbled as he bit down on his lip, evidently determined to bridle his grin. “When do you think they’ll carry out their secret plan?”

“Hm… I don’t know, there’s not really anything special happening anytime soon. The Quidditch game, maybe?”

“But surely, James can’t be on a fake date with Lily if he’s playing Quidditch?”

“Good point. D’you think they’ll fake an injury? That’s probably very likely, statistically speaking.”

“Statistically speaking?” Remus shot him a curious glance.

“Fake injuries tend to be the driving force of a lot of our successful pranks, don’t they?” Sirius grinned.

Just then, the bell rang throughout the castle and all the students started getting up from their desks and funneling out into the hallways. Sirius and Remus both shoved their belongings into their bags and started heading for the door of the classroom along with their fellow sixth years.

“Why is Suzy McGregor giving you weird looks?” Sirius gently nudged Remus’ ribcage. “What?” He asked when Remus took a deep breath and sighed.

“I yelled at her..?

“You yelled at her?..”

“That I’m gay…”

“You...pardon?”

“I thought she was trying to ask me out…” Remus kept trailing off as he spoke, determined to slowly but surely power through this embarrassing tale, holding his wide glossy gaze straight ahead as they walked out into the corridor.

“But she wasn’t?” Sirius offered curiously.

“She just wanted some butterbeer…”

“But not on a date with you?”

“No. I’m not invited to drink butterbeer with her.”

“Why’d you--”

“She chose very confusing wording to lead with, alright? And besides,” Remus finally met Sirius’ eyes, “it’s not like I don’t ever get asked out by people.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply,” Sirius smiled brightly. “I mean, I asked you out myself, didn’t I? What?” His expression clouded over with a confused kind of smile when Remus laughed.

“I wouldn’t exactly call that asking someone out.”

“Well you should look up the definition of asking someone out because that was exactly it!”

“You asked me to help you with homework. Exactly like you’ve done dozens of times before.”

“If not hundreds. But that’s not the point,” Sirius whispered hastily as they were overtaken by a group of Ravenclaw sixth years. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to whatever Vincent would have done,” he blurted out without thinking.

“Vincent?” Remus repeated that name as if he’d never heard it before, to Sirius’ vague delight. “What’s he got to do with anything?” He was smiling now.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty fond of him…” Sirius trailed off this time, unsure where he was going. For some reason, all of a sudden, he simply wanted to know that he was more important and special to Remus than the French git -- which was a ridiculous thought, seeing as they’d been inseparable friends for years.

“I think that’s a bit of an overstatement.”

“It is?”

“Are you jealous?” A big smile blossomed over Remus’ mouth as he uttered the question.

“Should I be?” Sirius shrugged nonchalantly as he thought to himself that he was, he absolutely was.

“Sirius.”

“Remus?”

Without another word (albeit with a roll of his eyes), Moony grabbed Sirius’ hand and swiftly dragged him into the nearest classroom - which conveniently happened to be one that they often counted on to be empty, for it hadn’t been used for lessons in at least two years.

Before he could figure out what was happening, Sirius found himself pinned against a cold stone wall. Remus’ left hand traveled up to touch his face, ever so gently, to rest along his jawline, as he kissed him slowly and deliberately. Sirius was dimly aware of Moony’s other hand holding his, their fingers laced through each other loosely, yet without intention to let go. He couldn’t comprehend how he had spent so many years without being kissed by this beautiful boy like that.

When Remus pulled away slightly, just enough for their foreheads and noses to still touch, Sirius managed to stammer out, “Moony?”

“Mhm?”

“Where...where did you learn to do this?”

Remus recoiled now, a sheepish smile painted across his beautiful, flushed face. “Sod off, Padfoot.” He turned around on his heel.

“No, I’m serious!” The black haired boy followed him out into the corridor, a giddy grin crowning his own features. “Is this how you kiss other people too?”

“I don’t kiss other people, Sirius…” Remus narrowed his eyes ever so slightly when the other boy caught up with him.

“But in the past!”

“Are you...are you retroactively jealous?”

“Only if you have kissed other people like that,” Sirius mumbled, only half jokingly.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to conduct a survey to see what they have to say.”

“Such a tease,” Sirius smirked at his boyfriend.

He felt so in love and so happy as they walked towards one of the moving staircases. It almost seemed to him as though there had to be a catch to it, as though complete bliss like this wasn’t meant to be free. But whatever the price could be, all he cared about were those green eyes, full of joy and love.

“Oi, Sirius!” James’ voice bellowed over the excited clamour of the hallways. “I’ve been-- Are you two alright?” His demeanor changed instantly when he approached the two boys.

“Yeah, why?” Remus shrugged while Sirius continued to float in the pleasant haze of his own mind.

“Pads is clinging to your arm… Are you hurt?”

“Oh, that,” Remus chuckled and gently peeled Sirius’ fingers off from around his forearm. To Sirius’ own surprise, however, he couldn’t remember how or when his fingers ended up wrapped around it in the first place. “I think I might have broken him…”

“What did you do?”

“I, er…”

“I’ll tell you later, Prongs,” Sirius finally rejoined the reality and their conversation. “So what about you and Evans?” He asked, foolishly - and very much aware of it - hoping that he could nudge James and his mysterious plan into motion a little faster.

“What do you mean?”

“When are you going to get together?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t you been telling me to forget about her and get over it at least once a week for the past year?”

“Nonsense! Have you been asking her out lately?”

“No…” James narrowed his eyes.

“You were looking for him?” Remus reminded with a nod towards Sirius.

“Ah, yes… Bad news - Quidditch is postponed until next week.”

“Why?” Sirius attempted to sound somewhat interested in the topic, while in all honesty, he was starting to become impatient about an entirely different thing.

“There was a break in at one of Hogsmeade shops. The school,” James uttered these words rather contemptuously, “feels it would be unwise to have the overwhelming majority of pupils out in the open grounds so close to a suspected Death Eater attack.”

“How dare the school,” Remus nodded with a solemn expression; a heartwarming attempt at solidarity.

Sirius, in the meantime, was getting lost in his head again. He was thinking about how much he wanted to tell James that Remus kissed him in Hogsmeade. He wanted all his friends to know. And he wanted to hold Remus’ hand all the time and kiss him whenever he wanted. Sneaking around might have sounded exciting in theory, but he didn’t think that now. And not only that - he wanted everyone to know that they were together, he wanted the whole school to see him with Moony and to realise just how much luckier Sirius was than all of them. He wanted all the students to talk about how much they loved each other and what a lovely couple the two made. He wanted the whole staff to be on the lookout for the snogging in the hallways. He wanted to be able to share his intoxicating happiness with everyone and anyone.

* * *

James pushed a couple of second years out of his way as he darted through the portrait hole, into the common room. He threw a half-hearted apology at them, without so much as a glance, as he made a beeline for the far corner of the room, where a collection of old, red velvet clad furniture crowded around the fireplace.

“Why is everyone talking about how Remus Lupin came out as gay in the common room?!” He stopped in front of the boy in question, his hands on his hips, a subconscious mirror of his mother.

“Wh-- Who’s talking about it?” Remus scrunched his nose, his body frozen halfway through a flinch, the book that he had been reading now lying face up in his lap.

“Who’s...he’s asking me who’s…” James muttered bitterly. “My sources, alright?”

“Your sour--”

“Why am I, once again, forced to learn about things like that from other people?!”

“I didn’t--”

“How do you think that makes me look!?”

“I--”

“Makes me look like a bad friend, Remus! Do you think I’m a bad friend?”

“No…”

“Then why wouldn’t you tell me before you start going around telling the whole school?”

“I didn’t--”

“Nevermind that, I have to go send an owl to my parents to stop asking you about girlfriends.”

“Oh, it’s really alright, they’ve only asked a handful of times--” Remus mumbled feebly, obviously very confused by James’ outburst.

“A handful too many!”

“Prongs, it’s hones--”

“They might start pestering you about boyfriends though…”

“That’s...that’s fine with me, James,” Remus smiled brightly out of the blue.

“Hm, I’ll think about it… Either way, I need to ask for more of mum’s flapjack…”

“You do that, James.”

“I hope you didn’t not tell me that you’re gay because you thought I’d do something ridiculous, like disapprove or give a broom riding fuck at all, honestly. Unless you started fancying me...you know my heart belongs to Evans.”

“I know, James,” Remus was positively radiant now.

“Good. Right. I’ll go send that owl then. Jaffa Cakes?” James lingered on the spot.

“That’d be lovely. Send your parents my love.”

“Will do. Sorry for raising my voice,” he added after a moment’s consideration.

“That’s quite alright.”

“Let me know if anyone gives you grief about it.”

“Thanks, James,” Remus beamed at him, at which he nodded and turned around on his heel.

Now that he’d gone through with the confrontation, his mind was catching up with what had happened - he had overheard a handful of Gryffindors talking about Remus and how he had told Suzy McGregor that he’s gay. Of course, James was aware of Remus’ sexuality, he just never talked to him about it - he wanted to give his friend all the time and space he needed rather than force him to come out if he wasn’t ready. And when he heard those kids talking about it, he couldn’t help but feel hurt; hurt that Remus didn’t feel like he could talk to James, perhaps?

And - just like most things James would get riled up about - now it turned out to not be a big deal at all. Once he paused to think about it, James realised that more than anything, he was worried that Remus would feel like he needed to hide his sexuality just like he’d been hiding his lycanthropy. And if that ever turned out to be the case, he silently swore to himself to do anything he could to make Remus feel like he didn’t have to be ashamed about any part of his wonderful existence.

As James was crossing the common room, deep in thought, he almost walked right past Sirius, who had just descended from the dormitories.

“Were you aware that Remus is, in fact, very much not straight?” James grabbed his arm and pulled him closer.

“Er…” Sirius briefly stared off across the room before returning his gaze to James’ face. “Vaguely.”

“As in, he’s very much gay.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Did he already tell you!?” James gasped.

“Not exclusively, no.”

“Well? Aren’t you happy about it?!”

“Oh! Yes, very!” Sirius nodded a tad too vigorously.

“Do you not fancy him anymore?” James screwed up his face in confusion. He’d been finding himself growing more and more exasperated lately; he couldn’t figure out why his two friends were being such idiots and was beginning to put more and more stock into Lily and Peter’s plan.

“Oh no, I do. I very much do.”

“Why won’t you just tell him?!” James whispered hotly, gesturing his arms around.

“Oh, you know,” Sirius shrugged, “because we’re friends and all that jazz, I guess.”

“Are you sure you still fancy him?”

“Yes. Aren’t you?”

“You haven’t been whining about him lately.”

“I don’t whine, excuse you,” Sirius puffed out his chest dramatically.

At this, James let out an amused laugh. “Sure. You want to walk to the owlery with me?”

“Uh…” Sirius stared off again. “I needed to talk to Remus, actually. About the study group thing...”

“You know, if the boy doesn’t figure out that the only reason you attend his study groups is so that you could stare at him, then maybe I’ve overestimated his intelligence…”

“How dare you,” Sirius popped his eyes in another facetious gesture. “I care about my education, that’s all.”

“Mhm.” James arched his eyebrows and watched Sirius walking away for a few moments before continuing on his way.

Some thirty minutes later, James was back at the portrait hole, giving the Fat Lady the password, when Lily caught up with him.

“Potter,” she nodded with comical gravitas.

“Evans,” he mirrored her. “Coming back from a Dorks Anonymous meeting?” He cast a glance at the stack of books in her arms.

“Is that your new seduction tactic?” She squeezed past him, through the portrait hole into the common room.

“Is it working?”

Lily opened her mouth, as if about to say something, but then just laughed, melting James’ heart just a tad more.

“Say, have you noticed anything strange about Remus and Sirius?”

“Yes, actually,” she stepped aside, out of the way of people climbing in and out the common room entrance, and turned to James. “I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but they seem to have started acting a lot less...annoying?”

“Yes!” James grabbed Lily’s shoulders excitedly and gave her a light shake. “Sirius hasn’t been whining...at all, really. ”

“And Remus isn’t staring at Sirius with that pining look at mealtimes. In fact, I saw him hand feed Sirius at lunch the other day.”

“I’ve seen Remus braid Sirius’ hair at least three times this week.”

“I’m so confused… Why won’t they just get it over with and get together?”

“You know, I’m starting to think your plan will prove to be a necessity…”

“Oh, interesting.” Lily shuffled her weight on one foot and raised an eyebrow as she shot him a sly smirk. “I seem to remember you calling it a waste of our time.”

“Can’t hurt to try, can it?” James shrugged defensively, trying not to stare at her lips too obviously as he did.

“Well, we’ve just got a couple more weeks before the next Hogsmeade trip. We’ll have to start thinking about how to fake this date,” Lily grimaced.

“I do have feelings, you know. You could at least pretend to not be repulsed by the idea,” James pouted.

“I’m not! That’s not what I mean…”

“I’m just yanking your wand, Evans,” he chuckled and fell into step beside her when she started for their usual corner of the common room.

Before they even reached their friends, they exchanged very eloquent looks at the sight of Sirius perched up on the armrest of Remus’ chair - they seemed to have formed a new habit of sharing a seat whenever they could get away with it (anytime they weren’t in class).

“Sirius,” Lily squinted at him, “are you wearing Remus’ sweater vest?..”

James’ eyes darted to Sirius, his face screwing up in a horrible realisation that he had somehow missed that detail up until then.

“This?” Sirius tugged at the hem of it. “Yep.”

“But…” James peered at him. “You always make fun of it. You hate it, don’t you!?”

“Hate it!? Dear Merlin, of course I don’t hate it.”

“I’ve literally heard you describe this exact piece of clothing as a ‘poor shoe shiner child’s uniform’, multiple times.”

“Dragondung, I would never say that.”

“No, actually,” Remus interjected with a very indulgent smirk, lowering his book in his lap, his index finger marking the page, “I too remember you saying those exact words.”

#i've been so busy with work #also both my physical and mental health crumbling to pieces #this certainly ain't my best work #but here it is #fanfic #Wolfstar fanfiction #hogwarts #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #james potter

96 notes · View notes