#I hate it when I have to tag this many characters ;-;

[scorpioriesling]

Just started reading too hot to handle, can’t wait for the next part I love Lucien and the reader together 🫶🏻

Too Hot to Handle - Finale

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Characters featured: Reader, Feyre, Morrigan, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, Amren, Cassian, Lucien, Tarquin, Rhysand, Helion, Azriel, & Tamlin

Warning(s): None UP UNTIL the bonus *5 Years Later* part... then you get suggestion, smut-ish, implied smut, dirty talk (you're welcome? like, finally? damn) Sooo maybe don't read that if you're not 18+ or not comfortable with that!

SR’s Note: Guys... I am so sorry this took centuries to get out to you all. I can't thank you enough for sticking around for this little series, and I have enjoyed it so much. I have been so busy with wedding planning (it's literally 34 days from now) and I've had barely any time to write! Please forgive me, and enjoy the season finale of Too Hot to Handle! Yay! Tags: @velarisdusk @lilah-asteria @starlightazriel @mellowmusings @paintedbyshadows @book-obsessed124 @kitsunetori @rcarbo1

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"Good morning guests!"

"Good morning, Lana!"

The chorus of uncharacteristically chipper voices ring out from the beds around you, usually to monotonous and bleak in stark contrast to the early morning sun streaming in through the large windows.

"Luckily for you, this is the last morning you'll have to wake up to the sound of my voice," she jokes, earning a couple chuckles from the group. Limbs stretch from beneath blankets all around, and you slowly make an appearance as you untangle yourself from Lucien's grasp.

"Aw, Lana, I was just getting used to it!" Cassian chides, and Lana's lights flicker.

"No need to worry, Cassian -- I'm sure if things with Nesta don't work out, I'll be seeing you back here next season." This earns him a few sidelong glances and guffaws from his friends.

"Damn Lana... you're ruthless today!"

"I am -- I've got a big decision to make," she continues. "As it is the last day of the retreat, and many of you have come such a long way from where you were when you first arrived, I am sure I'll find difficulty in choosing a winner for the prize fund, which currently sits at $110,000." Hushed voices flicker between beds, but Lana continues nonetheless.

"In addition to the winner being announced, you may remember that those in couples get an extra treat today; their final dates," she reminds. You blush as you glance beside you and catch Lucien's gaze, his stare already fized on you. A small smile blooms on his lips when he meets your eye.

"So -- everyone get ready. Couples, I'll see you on the dock in one hour; everyone else, please enjoy your last day at the retreat to spend as you please." Her lights dim, and a few members mutter their thanks before blankets are thrown back in haste and guests begin making way for the showers and dressing rooms.

"I wonder what kind of date we'll get?" Lucien's deep morning voice says, and you feel the flicker of heat between your thighs. His gaze still searches every inch of you, taking in every strand of hair and every inch of skin like its the last time he'd see you.

"I'm not sure," you say, shifting beneath the blanket. His hand finds your waist, tugging you close so he can wrap his arms around you again.

"Luciennn," you groan, his signature earthy aroms immediately infultrating your senses (just the way you like). "I need to get ready-"

"Well, I need five more minutes to snuggle you," he says, resting his chin atop your head. You bury your face into his bare chest, reveling in the feel of his skin against your cheek. You hated to admit it, but you needed those five minutes just as much.

"Five minutes," you agree.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"I knew Lana was bougie -- but to get us each a yacht?"

Helion's teasing remark was acknowledged with a few nods, most of the guests staring out at the blue ocean in awe. He couldn't be more correct; at the end of the dock, five gleaming white yachts madetheir way to the shore. As the first one approached, the Captain appeared from the lower deck and set the boat at an idle speed.

"One ship for guests, Cassian and, Nesta!" He called. Nesta glanced sidelong at you, and you could only offer her a shrug before her giddy counterpart took off toward the ship. She huffed in amusement, following gracefully behind.

"Captain Wheathers," he introduced, shaking Cassian's hand. "I'll be taking the both of you out today -- any questions please feel free to ask." Cassian bounces from foot to foot with excitement.

"Awesome, man! Hey, nice toy you got here. Real clean," he muses. You can practically feel Nesta's eyes roll, and you can't help the small chuckle you let out. As they disembark, the group waves them off and the next boat pulls in.

"Guests Rhysand and Feyre, please!"

"Ooh! That's, us, Rhys!" Feyre squeals. Her excitement makes you smile, a sentiment Rhysand seems to share as she giddily grabs his hand and steps toward the edge of the dock. Your heart swells as he pulls her close, holding her for balance as she takes a wobbly step onto the ship.

"I wonder when it'll be our turn," Lucien purrs, his fingers tracing along the curve of your waist. You'd opted for your white bikini today (Lucien's pick, actually) and sheer skirt cover up -- his touch only sent goosebumps over your bare skin.

"Soon, I'm sure of it-"

"Lucien Vanserra, and Y/N Y/L/N, please?"

You hadn't realized Feyre and Rhys had left, let alone another boat had arrived. Reguardless, Lucien's fingers find yours, threading through in the same way you've come to find familiar by now, and you both step forward to the end of the dock.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"The ride should be short -- maybe, fifteen or twenty minutes at this speed before we get to the designated spot," Captain Morgan explains.

"But, while we ride, please -- feel free to move about, there are drinks, snacks, food, water... I believe they have the picnic lunches in there for you when we make the stop, though." He winks.

"Thank you, sir!" Lucien says politely, bracing his hands on the railing near where the Captain is navigating the boat. He gives him a polite nod back in response.

You decide to make yourself comfortable on one of the couches, the plush seat more inviting than standing and balancing against the crashing waves the boat is cutting through. Lucien doesn't seem to mind, still glued to the railing as he peers out at the line where the sky meets the sea.

Sitting back, you take in the view yourself. You really could not have gotten luckier. Truly... the male before you, radiant in all his glory, shining as though he is the sun himself. Never would you have dreamt of meeting someone so special, so caring -- Hell, all the males you'd been with before only care about themselves, or what Avenue they live on, or only seemed to talk too much about the damned stock market.

Lucien though... Gods. He truly was made perfectly. The way his amber hair flowed against his gorgeously tan skin, his perfectly toned arms and his lean torso -- I mean, he was tall, his legs went on for miles, and he was talented in so many ways, other than being so smart, so funny, so caring about how others felt-

"We have arrived!"

You blinked, practically shaking your head to come out of your stupor. The soft click of the keys as the Captain shuts off the engine has your gaze wandering, looking out at the vast open ocean -- no dock, no shoreline in sight. Just wide open blue... and two, multicolored eyes looking back at you.

"Too busy checking me out to notice we parked?" Lucien chuckles, stalking over to where you're seated. Your cheeks flush, but you know it's true.

"No," you scoff. "I wasn't... doing that. I was, distracted. By... something else." He takes a seat next to you, leaning in close as his gaze flickers to the top of your bikini bra.

"I was a little distracted too, every time we went over a wave," he whispers lowly. Your breath catches in your throat, the heated feeling between your legs returning from earlier this morning.

The sound of an appoaching engine cuts the moment short, and Lucien leans back, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he smirks at your flushed expression. "Hey, I think it was cute that you were lookin' at me anyway." He winks. You roll your eyes.

"Lucien, I said I wasn't-"

"Alright, so -- the staff ship is here to pick me up, I just wanted to go over a few things with you guys before I headed out," Captain Morgan explains. You straighten, and he points toward the water below.

"We'll be back at the villa for around two hours," he checks his watch. "It's eleven now, so around one p.m. we should be making rounds to come back and pick everyone up to head back for the evening," he explains. He then motions to the lower cabin, pointing out safety supplies, the emergency phone, medical kit, and other necessities. Then he gets to the upper deck.

"Finally -- you have access to the upper deck. There is food and drinks provided should you choose to have those, but again please use caution when consuming alcohol. Also, swimming... of course, you can swim, this is the ocean. Please, use, caution, and always remember we are just a phone call away." He ends with a smile.

"Thank you so much-" Lucien starts as the Captain turns to exit, but he quickly turns back to us before departing.

"Oh! Almost forgot. The other boats are within driving distance, but not necessarily swimming or seeing eye distance. So, if you need anything, it is best to just use the phone." He gestures to the emergency phone again before bracing his hands on the exit ladder. "I also do want to point out that you are out in the open, and the boats are equipped with cameras so... maybe, uh... keep that in mind, too." He chuckles, meeting Lucien's eye and earning a laugh from him too. You could not feel anymore embarassed, but thankfully the man starts to climb down, making way for the awaiting deck full of other crew members.

"Have a good time!" He calls, and the boat speeds off, leaving the two of you alone. In the middle of the ocean. On a single yacht.

All to yourselves.

In that moment, your stomach rumbles, and before you can cough or try to cover it up, Lucien lets out a joyful laugh. His contagious Colgate smile only makes you humor the situation, and he dramatically motions toward the stairs leading up toward the upper deck.

"Shall we, my hungry lady?"

That earns him a smack on the shoulder -- but, the stairs you ascend.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The calming sound of the ocean around you only made the moment more perfect. That compiled with the warmth from the midday sun, the feel of the plush towel beneath you, and the burst of juicy raspberry on your tongue -- it was intoxicating, a feeling you almost wished would never end.

And to top it all off, you got to share it all with the most wonderful male you'd ever met.

"So, what do you think you'll miss most about this place when we leave?" He asks, casually popping a grape in his mouth before looking up at you.

You, is your first thought as you gaze down at him, his casual position on the towel propped up on his forearm. You reach for a cheese cube, trying to come up with an answer that sounds less clingy.

"Well... I mean, this has felt like such a vacation, it's beautiful here," you say, peering out at the water. You sit with your ankles crossed, leaned onto one hip as one of your hands lays flat on the deck floor.

"It is beautiful here," he agrees. "I think you are beautiful, Y/N." Your gaze returns, and you watch as a slow smile creeps onto his face. You chuckle, shaking your head at his praise.

"Well, thank you." You say, reaching for your water bottle and sipping the rest of it. "I think you're quite handsome yourself."

"Ahh, really?" His hand clutches his heart in faux-surprise as he makes to stand, extending his hand to you. "I'll take it for you."

You look up at him, shielding your eyes in the blinding sun. "Oh, are you sure? I mean, I can-"

"Please. Allow me." He gently takes your empty bottle, turning to head down the stairs. You sigh, taking in the air around you again. You need to tell him, today. More than ever, you know how you feel, and leaving this place without him would be the worst heartbreak you'd ever felt -- like part of you would be without, somewhere in the world, and you don't know if you'd be able to handle that.

You're sure of it.

In minutes he's back... this time, without a shirt. He is balancing two fresh waters in one hand and two sparkling glasses of champagne in the other. He sets them before you with ease, settling down on the other side of the towel with a smile.

"I found the champagne," he says, brows raised as he gestures to the glasses. You grin, taking one and handing the other to him.

"I see that," You say. "But, you forgot your shirt."

He laughs and he takes the stem from you. "Hey, I got hot!" He holds out the rim for a toast. "Surely, you're not complaining...?" You shake your head slowly, and he winks at you.

"What should we toast to?" He asks, and you take in a breath.

"Hmm... our last day here, in paradise. We made it, baby!" You smile, and he laughs.

"We made it, baby! Me and sticky fingers, on a yacht, on our last day in paradise! Cheers to that." He clinks his glass with yours, and you take a long sip, the bubbles tingling your throat as you swallow it. Momentary sadness washes over you, anxiety over the words you know are to come, how he would respond. You set down your glass.

"What... do you think you'll miss most?" You ask. Lucien's brows raise, and he sets down his flute as well. He chews the inside of his lip, contemplating for a moment before he settles on an answer.

"Well, I was going to try to come up with a simple answer, or one that didn't come off so, attached, but," he fumbles. "To be honest, I think what I'm going to miss the most is you, Y/N."

A knot begins to form in your throat. A few beats of silence pass before you speak.

"Maybe... maybe, you don't have to." Your gaze lifts from the towel, his hopeful eyes meeting yours. You stare at eachother for what feels like eternity, the silence between you filled with a hundred unspoken words.

"Lucien," you whisper, your voice coming out shakier than you like. "I... I don't want to leave here without you." His eyes widen, and your heartbeat quickens.

"I don't want to not be around you," you say, an ounce of confidence behind your words this time. "I... I want to, take you to my favorite places. And, I want to, show you the town I grew up in, and-" you pause, the lump in your throat growing so tight you feel like you may not breathe. "I want you to be in all of the memories I still haven't made yet, Lucien. I- I don't think, I could make them, with someone, else." You say quietly. When you look to him again, he blinks back at you, so locked in on what you're admitting that he'd leaned closer and physically scooted across the towel to sit nearer.

"Lucien, say something, please-"

"I love you, Y/N." He interrupts, the words coming out crystal clear. His hands take yours, his gaze searching your expression for any sign of doubt at his monumental confession.

"Oh my Gods, Y/N, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have just dropped that on you like that, I-"

You don't give him a chance to answer, pulling him in and crashing your lips onto his in the most passionate kiss the two of you had shared yet. He immediately gave in, his mouth moving in time with yours as his hands guided your fingers to brace against his shoulders before his own snaked around your waist. He pulled you onto his lap, his hands caressing every inch of skin across your back and waist as you continued pressing your lips against his with fervor, relishing in the taste of the man that you could admit you loved.

Only pulling back a few inches, Lucien's brow narrowed slightly at the lack of mouth-to-mouth contact -- but you only smiled down at him as your hands held the sides of his face.

"I love you too," you said, and watched as his breath quickened in realization before his mouth was on yours once again. You weren't sure if he even registered that the two of you recieved your green light, but to you, that wasn't what mattered the most anyway.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You pressed a soft kiss to Lucien's cheek as you lay beside him, basking in the afternoon sun. After your heartleft confession (and rather heated makeout session to follow), you'd both jumped in the ocean and swam for a bit before growing tired and ending up on the deck once more, lying upon the towels in the sun.

"Do you feel different since you got here?" Lucien asks. You sit up, the sun growing a bit too warm on your face as you peer down at him. He shields his eyes from the rays so he can look up at you.

"Hmm..." You consider. "I suppose I am different in some ways, I guess. I mean, not who I am really, but I feel like I am, complete, in a way. I feel better, now. Maybe, because I met you." Your own words send a thrill through you, knowing Lucien really could be the one, and he grins up at you, reaching to tuck a stray strand of damp hair behind your ear.

"I know I've changed," he says, dropping his hand. "Not the same country kid from Carolina that walked in here a few months ago, thats for sure." He shrugs.

Oh right. That.

"About that," you bite your lip, twiddling with your fingers. Lucien registers the silence, adjusting to a sitting positon to face you fully.

"What is it?" He asks, his fingers lightly taking yours to stop you from fidgeting.

"I... Lucien, what do we... where do we go? From here?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"What, was the 'I love you' not indication enough?"

"No, I just mean, like... tomorrow, after Lana announces the winner, and we all get on planes," sadness swells in your chest. "I'll board mine to New York, and... well, you'll get on a flight to-"

"Hey, hey." He stops you, his hands cupping your face as he pulls you close to him. You can feel your emotions bubbling inside you, threatening to bubble over with every tender brush of his thumb across your cheek. "I've been honest with you since we met, Y/N. Don't think that changes now," he kisses the crown of your head, and meets your gaze once more. "Especially, now." You offer a sad smile, shaking your head slightly.

"Lucien... I'm not saying I'm unwilling to try, but you know how often long-distance relationships actually work out, I-"

"Who said anything about distance?" His brows form a flat line on his forehead. You lean back an inch to look up at him, not quite understanding.

"Lucien-"

"Y/N, I'll move to New York with you." He says, then looks side to side. "I mean, if that's what you want, and it's not too invasive, I mean."

You shake your head, not quite believing your ears. "Lucien... I... you can't just, uproot your whole life, I mean," you stutter. "You... your real estate business, your job, I mean," He kisses your cheek.

"Sweetheart, do you know how big I could go with real estate in New York?" He chuckles, and you continue your wide-eyed gaze at him. "Besides, I already told you my family is from all-over. I don't have real 'roots' where I'm at now anyways." He shrugs as though the two of you were discussing flavors of cereal.

You swallow hard, thinking of this very big, very new change that was very quickly becoming your new reality. Lucien, moving all the way to New York to be with you. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you looked up at his grinning face once more.

"What if you don't like it there?" You ask, and he barks out a laugh. His hands snake around your waist, pulling you to sit as close as possible to him to the point where mere inches separeted the two of you.

"I'd be happy in any city, as long as you're there with me, sticky fingers." You loose the battle of holding back the tears, and they begin freefalling down your cheeks. He doesn't hesitate to wipe them away, gently running his fingers through your hair and pressing soft kisses atop your head while you work through your overwhelming emotion.

Wrapping your arms around him, you snuggle close, inhaling as much of him as you can. If you could, you'd stay like this forever -- luckily, you would rest easy knowing you'd leave Lana's retreat tomorrow with Lucien, not only as an official couple, but quite literally together. A simple helping hand and playful conversation is what led to this beautiful thing the two of you had created; and now, you had forever to look forward to.

"I love you," you whispered against his skin, as his arms only hugged you tighter.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The group buzzed with anticipation the next morning as everyone sat in the cabana awaiting Lana's arrival. The rest of yesterday went off without a hitch -- everyone talked about their dates, many green lights were once again given, and the singles in the group were able to use their free time to get in one last day at the villa to do as they pleased.

This morning, though, the entire property was utter chaos; packing, running around, items being stuffed into suitcases, and so many emootional exchanges were all happening at once as the gravity of what was happening today seemed to finally settle on many of the group members.

Nonetheless, everyone was here now at the cabana. 11 a.m. sharp, just as Lana requested last night. No wake up call this morning, but you hadn't minded; what you thought would be your last night in a bed with Lucien turned out to be just another night. You could still remember the feeling of waking up this morning and imagining rolling over in your own bed, but finding him next to you instead of the empty sheets.

"Good morning, everyone." Lana greets, the cone appearing from beneath the fire pit.

"Good morning, Lana!" Everyone responds.

"Well, we have arrived at the final day of our retreat, haven't we?" She says, and a few girls make sad faces. "I always hate goodbyes -- but, I am pleased with how far many of you have come since you've arrived here a few short months ago. You've all done well, truly -- give yourselves a hand!"

The group claps, a few of the guys cheering before Lana lights up again.

"Alright, now let's settle. I know you've all got planes to catch." She pauses. "What always makes goodbyes a bit easier for me, is of course, a going-away gift, right?" She chuckles, and a few people agree.

"As you all know, I have a gift of my own -- my hefty little prize fund that I told you about all those months ago. Not so hefty now, but, still quite the chunk of change as it is $110,000." She earns a few cheers for this before she continues.

"Some seasons, I have guests vote for a winner -- other times, I choose one myself." She explains. "However, this go around, I've seen impeccable growth in two people who just so happen to be in an established relationship, and I'd like to award this prize to them both."

This certainly earns her some feedback. Luciens fingers squeeze your knee, and you look to him eagerly.

"So, without further adeu; this season, I'd like to give the Finale Prize to the couple..." she pauses, and everyone glances around to one another.

"... Lucien and Y/N!"

Immediately, you jump up, Lucien rising beside you as cheers erupt from the others. He scoops you in his arms, pulling you into a twirl as he hold you close to his chest. The entire group applauds, cheering louder as confetti and balloons are released above the cabana in celebration. When he finally sets you down, you stare up at him in excitement, your smile bright to mirror his own.

"We won it, baby!" He says, his hands holding you close aorund your waist.

"We won it!" You echo, and in that moment any and all rules are forgotten as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips melt against yours, his touch full of love and pure adoration for the woman he is with; and you couldn't help but feel as though everything, in that moment, was right in your little world.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours. You can't help but smile, still reeling from everything happening around you.

"Let's go home, city girl." He says, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You rest your cheek against the white cotton of his shirt, the end of a strand of his hair tickling your cheek.

"Let's go home."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

5 Years Later

"Y/N, almost done in there?"

You huff, shoving the mascara wand back into the tube and pumping it a few times before yanking it back out again. You lean forward, mere inches from the mirror as you hold the end of the wand near your lashes.

"Yeeeah," you call out, so focused on coating every lash with the black makeup that you don't hear the soft knock on the door behind you. Let alone the telltale squeak of the hinge as it slowly opens.

"Sweetheart, Rhys texted me ten minutes ago saying they were pulling up-" Lucien's voice halts as he steps further into the small room, his eyes practically undressing you as you watch through the mirror.

"Sorry, I'm almost done-"

"Oh... no, take your time, baby." He steps close as you cap your makeup, pinning you to the counter from behind. You suck in a breath, meeting his hungry gaze through the glass as he hyperfixates on the low-cut neckline in the reflection.

"I'm happy to wait... riiiiight here." His hand slides along your waist, tracing every ridge and line of the skin-tight fabric. You smirk, the feeling of him pressed against you only growing harder. "This new?" He asks.

You smirk, watching his gaze dip lower. "You like it?"

He scoffs, pressing his chest to your back and bending you more over the counter. His breath is warm as it fans across the skin beneath your ear.

"I'd like it better, off." He growls, already playing with the little straps at your shoulders. "Gods, so pretty Y/N... always making me go crazy," he mumbles. You admit, the praise is nice, but -- you do have the Too Hot To Handle 5 Year Anniversary Dinner to get to.

"Fuck," he utters, kissing the top of your shoulder as his hands palm your ass. "You look so good..." He kisses the side of your neck, his hands grabbing at your waist. "Could just marry you right now."

You twist beneath him, turning to face him in an attempt to not get any more ideas. Chuckling, you hold up your left hand between the two of you.

"Eight months. Only eight more months, and then you can call me Mrs. Vanserra, alright?" The diamond glitters in the light, twinkling as he takes your fingers in his. He brings your knucles to his lips, kissing softly. Its only a moment before his eyes wander, shifting with the movement of every breath you take.

"Lucien -- dinner, remember?" You remind, but his eyes are glued to your cleavage. He shamelessly drags his hands up your sides, cupping your breasts in his palms and giving you a light squeeze before meeting your gaze again.

"I don't remember us having any plans, actually," he smirks, and you give him a knowing look. He drops his hands to your waist instead, effortlessly picking you up and sitting you on the counter so he can stand between your parted knees.

"Lucien, c'mon we're..." he leans in, his lips kissing along your collarbone softly.

"...so, so late." You gasp when he nips at the skin of your throat, his tongue rolling over the spot after. He's come to learn this is one of the things he can do to really get you going... and boy does he use it to his advantage.

That gasp turns into a full-on moan as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass through your dress, pressing your surely soaked panties to his strained cock through his pants. He makes his way up your neck, over your jaw, and to your lips before you begin moving involuntarily against him. Your mind wanders to the various times you'd been in this very bathroom the two of you had shared for years, all the ways he'd taken you on this very counter before.

Making you watch your reflection in the mirror as he pounded relentlessly into you from the back.

Kneeling before you as you held your knees apart, his tongue working your tight clit as you sat on the cool countertop.

Gods-

"Babe-" You pulled back, your eyes barely opening as he sucked in a breath of air before you. "Babe, we're so late, we really gotta go."

He sighs, leaning back further as your eyes widen. You can't help but giggle at the rosy red smudged across his lips and under his nose. He grimaces, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth.

"I might've messed up your lipstick a lil'," he confesses, his cheeks flushing a cute shade of pink. You grin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before hopping off the counter and adjusting your dress.

"You can mess it up all you want... after, we go to dinner."

In minutes, he's lipstick-free and you're ready to walk out the door to meet your friends you hadn't seen for five years -- and boy could you not wait to catch up.

"Ready?" Lucien helps you into your coat, opening the front door of your shared high-rise and extending a hand to you. Peering at you is the same set of heterochrome irises you'd fallen for five years ago; the same set that belonged to the man you'd get to tell your friends tonight, you were set to marry.

"I'm ready."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Being James' sister and dating Regulus - HEADCANONS

Requested: Yes ("dating regulus head cannons? but as James potters sister 🫣" - Anon)

Characters: Regulus Black, James Potter (+y/n)

Warnings: Fluff; English is not my first language

A/N: Thank you anon for the request, and sorry for the delay! This will include also the pre-dating stage as well. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

When you entered Hogwarts, you were sorted into Gryffindor like you older brother James, which made you both very happy

As a Gryffindor, you didn’t have Slytherin friends, but you didn’t really hate them either

You and Regulus properly met when you were partnered in potions, and you were surprised of how nice and polite he actually was

After that class, you started talking a bit with him every time you shared a class, and soon you started to hang out in the library or in the courtyard

You wrote to him during the holidays, and made sure James didn’t know

You hung out more and more with Regulus in secret, and after a while realized you were having feelings for him. You

Unbeknown to you, Regulus already had feelings for you 

After a while, you contemplated telling Regulus about your feelings, but you thought he wouldn’t want to date a girl who wasn’t in Slytherin

But to your great surprise, he invited you to the Yule ball and you gladly accepted

The night of the Yule Ball, James was shocked to see you two together and angrily confronted you, saying Regulus being in Slytherin wasn’t the problem, but his views on pure-blood purity and wizards being superior to Muggles 

You were surprised to learn it, and told him Regulus never talked to you about it, and had been nothing but kind to you

However, you still talked to Regulus about it on private, and he assured you that what his family thought didn’t matter, and that he cared greatly about you and didn’t want to lose what you had

You said you had to think about it, but as you turned around to leave, he grabbed your arm and kissed you passionately 

“You had no idea for long I wanted to do this…How many times I imagined this moment…”

And that’s when you realized there was mistletoe over you two

He then asked you to be his girlfriend, and you obviously said yes

You decided to tell James right away, so he could see how awesome Regulus was

James wasn’t happy but accepted it, but Sirius tried to tell you Regulus wasn’t good for you, but you refused to listen to him, and Regulus was very thankful for that

Regulus was the best boyfriend you could ask for

He loved to cuddle, to hold you at night

Not much on PDA at first, but with time had no problem kissing you in public

He defended you against his friends - and you did the same

He always got you gifts and took you out on dates

Your parents quickly became fond of him, and you always invited him during the holidays - much to Sirius’ annoyance 

When James realized how happy Regulus made you, he decided to be cordial to him during the holidays, but things remained the same at Hogwarts 

When you and Regulus got married, James accepted to be your witness and was genuinely happy for you

Want to be on the permanent tag-list or for specific characters/fandoms? Feel free to use my Ask-Box! ^^

Next projects

Masterlist

[griddleharkbrainrot]

You have brought this upon yourselves

Tagging the people who reblogged this so they can read the final product: @commanderbabygirl @shoot-i-messed-up @kuronekofe-ao3 @yourinfernaimajesty @kneehighrainbowsocks @cipher-fresh @fashion-foxy

Before I begin I would like to clarify that this is about how Batman is a trans allegory, whether the character himself is or is not trans is up to the reader's interpretation.

First I would like to break down some key elements of the character Batman

Dresses up at night as a different persona, with a different name, voice, and clothing

Thinks of himself as Batman and states that Bruce Wayne is the alter ego and that he is Batman

He spends the day engaging in behaviors contrary to what he truly wishes to do so that people will not doubt his identity and realize that he is Batman

He does not want to act like playboy Bruce Wayne, even stating once that it makes him uncomfortable

He tries to hide being Batman from friends and family because he is afraid of how they will respond and if they will be safe

He views himself as a monster at times for identifying as this thing which is seen as not human

We sometimes see Batman fear that his parents would hate what he has become.

Some people consider Batman a corrupting influence and blame him for Gotham’s problems

Now that we have broken down some key aspects of what makes Batman himself, I would like to tell you a story and let you draw the parallels.

TW Transphobia in the deep south

Sally is a young girl who lives in Alabama. Deep country Alabama where they shoot you if you’re queer cause they can’t have you corrupting the children. Most people don’t call her Sally, they call her Alexander, a name that isn’t hers but she can’t tell them that because it isn’t safe to do so. What if they tell someone else and the secret gets out? What if they accept her but someone finds out they knew and didn’t tell and they shoot them both together? It's far too dangerous for them to know so Sally lets them call her the wrong name even as something chips and breaks in her chest. But at night she is free; in the nearby town there is a bar she likes to sneak out to where she can dress as herself and be known by her own name. For some of the others they like to dress as women for fun and Sally can understand that but for her it's not just a night out, this is her real life. There is a whole other world out there for her at night of people who can truly be themselves. Some are brave enough to be the same person during the day and the night but Sally doesn’t have that option. It isn’t safe for her out here, and so to ward off suspicion Sally buzzes her hair when she wants to shave it out, lowers her voice when she wants to raise it, and dresses hypermasculine because this is the armor she must wear to avoid suspicion. Her parents make her go to church every Sunday and the pastor likes to give speeches about the monsters in the night who are “unnatural and against god”. He warns against the devils who will corrupt you and turn your good-natured children into f*gg*ts. Sally shrinks in her seat while he preaches, knowing that the monster he speaks of is her. Her mother puts a reassuring arm on her shoulder, thinking that the reason Sally is frightened is because she does not want the so-called devils to take her, not knowing her child is one of them. Sally wonders if her mother would hate her if she knew what she was. A mother is supposed to love their children unconditionally, but after all, there is no hate like Christian love.

Apologies if that was triggering for anyone, but I needed to tell it so that you could properly understand. It is not my story (although I did write it) but the story of many young trans people in areas where it is not safe for them to be out of the closet.

Let’s review the previously established characteristics of Batman and draw parallels to the story above and the experience of being trans as a whole.

Dresses up at night as a different persona, with a different name, voice, and clothing

Need I say anything?

Thinks of himself as Batman and states that Bruce Wayne is the alter ego and that he is Batman

I am newname not deadname

He spends the day engaging in behaviors contrary to what he truly wishes to do so that people will not doubt his identity and realize that he is Batman

Protective hypermasculinization/hyperfeminization

He tries to hide being Batman from friends and family because he is afraid of how they will respond and if they will be safe

Not safe to be out as trans and afraid people won’t acccept you

He views himself as a monster at times for identifying as this thing which is seen as not human

Internalized transphobia

We sometimes see Batman fear that his parents would hate what he has become.

Fear that your parents won't accept you as trans

Some people consider Batman a corrupting influence and blame him for Gotham’s problems

The ridiculous idea that transgender people are corrupting children

Let me know if I missed anything or if there are any inconsistencies. Additions are welcome to this post! I am not a batman expert but what little I know was drawing obvious parallels to being trans and so I had to share this mess that has been rattling around in my brain

You guys aren't ready for my analysis on Batman as a trans allegory

[deadclockghost]

To Comfort The Moon

A lil doodly comfort crumb from this AU. I swear it's more lighthearted than this! ....Mostly, anyway.

Usually, comments like that slide right over Moon, it doesn't really bother him, that day was just a bad one, and the kids weren't feeling as nice as they usually do. It happens. And they know they have each other to just be there! They're not alone.

Most of the Daycare space is canon compliant, with a few extras just because; in this case, Moon's Nap Corner! While most kids prefer being outside of the little nook, some feel safer inside, which is why it exists :)

I was debating whether to add the other important guys in this comic, but decided that this moment happened prior to their intro, or there are plot related reasons they're not here! It doesn't really matter... ^^'

Under the cut is the comic without dialogue! I feel like it's still understandable without it, and I kinda prefer it anyway, so I decided to post! Anyways, see you when I actually introduce the others correctly! (Aka post their refs) :>

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[snakeyp00]

*trips and falls over* oh noooooo *picks up raikov headcanons* *picks up raikov headcanons* *picks up raikov headcanons* *picks up raikov headca

[silvershadow1711]

I've been posting fanfics for years and reading them for decades (just started reading /reader fics- one is in my top four favorite pieces of literature period), and I gotta say- I hate it when people do this. Few things will make me click off a fic faster. It's dishonest; you're lying to prospective readers, falsely advertising one thing to draw them in while giving them something else. And yes, descriptions are nice, but most people search fics on AO3 by tags.

To me, the difference between a reader-insert and an original character is the difference between games that have fully customizable characters for you to play as and the old Final Fantasy games where you could change a character's name. The fully custom character might follow the same script no matter who's playing as them, but they're special. That's your character- you have a personal connection with them, they are your avatar. It doesn't matter if I rename Cloud "Chikn Nuggs"- that's still undeniably Cloud Strife and will never not be Cloud Strife.

And yeah, there are plenty of reader-inserts that are obviously just OCs with the serial number filed off, but there are also plenty of "comedians" that aren't funny. I try not to judge a medium by the worst examples of it.

I exclusively write OC/Canon fics so trust me; I get being desperate to reach an audience, but the fact of the matter is, that's never going to do the numbers that reader/Canon fics will. Horror won't attract as many readers as romance, but that's no excuse to tag your psychological horror thriller as a romantic slice of life. Purposefully mistagging just disappoints people who wanted the specific thing you aren't going to deliver. You just have to accept the fact you're writing for a specific niche and hope that your writing is good enough that it will draw readers in without lying to them about what they're getting. Sometimes it won't, but sometimes it will and if you're lucky, people will love your OC for the character she is, not the blank slate they were hoping for.

I have a question for yall regarding tags on Ao3- for fics involving All Might specifically. In the past I had seen people post works in the xReader tag that were oc content rather than xReader. I posted 2 of my oc fics like 2-3 years ago and that was the first time I'd ever posted anything on Ao3 and was still relatively new to the site. Since I had seen people post oc content under the xreader tag I figured that was okay? Personally I don't see an issue when someone has an oc story under a reader tag because I read the description of fics and if it's something I'm not interested in I just won't read it? Especially bc some reader inserts are more of an oc as opposed to a reader insert anyways. The only difference is a named character as opposed to Y/N.

I got excited cause I got a notification for a new comment on an update for my fic and it was basically "cool story- but this isn't xreader so you should get rid of the tag" 😔

I do get it- it technically doesn't truly belong there. It's just nice to give it a chance at getting some views 😂 But idk I've never sought out an opinion on this before bc I don't talk to many people who read xReader. Does anyone have any strong opinions on this?

[ohmytiredheart]

Honestly I feel for Sam but serves him right.

Even if we ignore the potential intermingling of the web or any other other spooky strings that are likely being pulled, there's a lot to unpack here.

I wouldn't say Sam "deserved" it, but Alice tried warning him for months. This is what he gets for sticking his nose in places it didn't belong.

Did I say the same thing about Jon in TMA? Yes and no. Obviously there isn't a story without someone doing something dumb, but I think Jon's situation and Sam's situation are a little different. Jon was an idiot, yes, but he (and everyone else around him) were forced to go in completely blind. He had no idea what he was doing and didn't have any warnings or help at all except from his creepy boss with ulterior motives.

Sam also went in blind, but he was warned several times by several people including the eldritch computer to stop and turn around. He could have avoided this if he just returned Alice's calls or looked at her messages.

But nooooo he had to poke around with his little crushy crush and get himself thrown into a portal to what we can only assume is the TMA universe. Serves him right.

[piko-power]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[ehlnofay]

One day – as far-off as a century, as near as tomorrow – it will all be a grand old story.

The stories will speak of a handful of champions, rushing headlong against time and logic to save the world; the last Blades, the last Septim, and his hanger-on Hero, carving a bloody path to the Temple doors. The stories will tell of skies like burned blood, of fire and ash and uncountable legions of monsters – hundreds, thousands, millions, the quantity rising with each telling – the city streets cracked and quaking, every civilian locked up in their homes and businesses and praying for deliverance. The stories will tell of the appearance of Dagon, red-hot and roiling, a gory perversion of the sun; they’ll tell that when all seemed lost, Martin Septim sacrificed himself in a blaze of glory, calling down the avatar of Akatosh and casting Dagon and his ilk back whence he came. They’ll tell that the golden dragon threw back its head and roared, and the sky cleared and brightened at its word; they’ll tell how it petrified in place, a magnificent pillar of stone, a sacrosanct statue. A site of pilgrimage. A shrine, to the grace and glory of the gods, and the bravery and benevolence of the last Emperor, the best of men.

It will be a good story. All splendour and triumph, a bittersweet victory right out of the epics; the pages closed, the crisis done, the world saved in as golden a resolution as could be asked for. It doesn’t get better than this, a perfect saviour, a hallowed end.

What the stories won’t tell is how, under clear skies and sunlight, the Hero of Kvatch falls at the statue’s marbled feet and howls like the world is still ending.

“You fucking coward,” Pax is screaming, as best as she can. Her mouth tastes like smoke. Her voice is hoarse. “Stupid worm, fucking – selfish bastard – what’s wrong with you?”

His head is swimming, a bit; he shouldn’t have tried to stand, but he – but – he’s dragged himself up to the dais, just about, and managed to sprawl himself over the edge, a snail’s trail of blood smeared along the floor behind him. The copper tang of it is strong in his nostrils. The statue stands, proud and silent, one marble claw dug into the cracked stone of the rostrum. His whole body is beginning to ache – just because of a stupid stab wound in his side, he’d swear he’s had worse, it’s not that bad, it’s not that bad. His throat burns. He isn’t crying. He isn’t.

The sky is so fucking blue.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demands, again, and brings the heel of his hand thudding against the clawed foot hard enough that he feels the impact down his arm, through his blurry head. “Why would you – piece of shit – sorry spit-gill – I thought –”

None of their thoughts will go through to the end. “I thought,” Pax says again, and she’s not crying, and it hurts so much it’s looped back around to not hurting, and it’s all getting fuzzy at the edges, all the world narrowed down to this and this and this and all fucking hell she’d rather be anywhere, anything else. The statue is cold. Her throat is scraped raw. “Come back,” she’s begging without quite meaning to, “come back,” and she drives her palm into the stone again, and the pain sets her reeling.

And all hell, the sky is so blue; the statue enormous; and here they are, at its feet, vision blurring, staring up at its cold marble face. It’s so fucking tall, so proud, face tipped up towards the new-appeared sun, away from them.

“How could you?” Pax says, and then they can’t even see it anymore, blood unspooling from them like skeins of madder-dyed thread. Red has never been their favourite colour. The shape of the dragon, glowing like the sun, is fixed forever on the backs of their eyelids; gold, they think, is worse. The world is detached and floating about them. They taste smoke and then bile. Stone digs fierce into their spine.

It burned like the sun, the dragon; like all the divine light of Aetherius come to earth just to sear the moisture from her eyes. Where it clawed Mehrunes Dagon, his blood boiled; when it screamed, the world moulded itself to its call. Pax hadn’t known what was happening, while it happened; sure as shit doesn’t know now. What they do know is that he’s gone. What they do know is that the dragon didn’t look at them once. They don’t taste ash on their breath, now; just fear, stagnant, sour, blood jangling bitter in their veins and seeping out to soak their gambeson.

It doesn’t hurt, anymore, there’s just this spreading, vague numbness. It doesn’t feel like their body. It’s just a thing they’re putting on. Their ears are still ringing from the crashing-in of the Temple, but there’s a faint buzzing of noise outside. They might be dying. They can’t be assed to get up.

Skeeving asshole. They’re getting blood on the dragon’s immaculate feet. The hollow sounds of voices feels distant. Could well be worse.

Then, “… a healer, here!” they hear, much closer than anything else had been before, paired with the faraway thudding of the door, and “Pax. Pax! It’s – where’s –” and there’s hands on him, a cautious manipulation of his neck, a shifting of his legs. Pressure on his sternum, and then his stomach, and a pained grunt slips out of his mouth, bound up with a slurred curse.

“Stay calm,” says an unfamiliar voice, soft and steady. “I’m just accessing the wound.”

“Go away,” Pax says, or tries to say, but his voice is whispering-hoarse and the dragon looms in the dark even still. He could open his eyes, but what would be the point?

The hands stay on him even when he bucks, holding him steady; they whisper over the stab in her gut, pulling at the drying blood, mumbling words that she can’t be fucking bothered to listen to, one voice known to her already, one voice not; pressure again on the injury, and they try, half-heartedly, to breathe out a swear – and then light, copper-bright, behind their eyelids, and burning heat, and pain pain pain eclipsing all else as something inside them wrenches back into working order, and then their eyes are open and the sky is blue and they are very fucking aware, thank you.

Pax sits up, fast enough to send the world dizzily whirling, and shoves the mage-medic away from them.

“Piss off,” he says – and it’s still hoarse, smoke-throated and scraped raw, but there’s more bite to it this time, more sound. The strange hands fall away from his side, and he looks down. His gambeson is hanging open, cords untied, the emblem of the wolf split clean down the middle. His undershirt is rucked up around his chest, too, so much of his skin is bared to the clear, bright air; all to get to the wound tucked just under their ribs. It’s an underwhelming thing – smaller than they would’ve thought, a thin short slash like a very red mouth has opened itself up in their gut. It’s stopped dribbling quite so much blood, gone scabby with rough healing, though the stuff is still smeared all over their skin, damn near enough to bathe in. It’s barely anything, really. They’re barely even hurt.

“I’m not done,” says the mage-medic, all stern. The wound itches, the taste of hasty magic gone sour in the back of their throat with all the rest of it. “I might have to find my suturing needle. It isn’t too bad, but it can’t be healed all at once.”

“Piss off,” Pax repeats – and all fucking hell it hurts, and he’s sitting up against the statue, legs lolling. He’s dizzy. He ignores it.

Ocato – his fine clothes sooty, face tight as a wound-up spring – says, “Calm down, please – he’s a skilled healer, he knows what he’s doing.” His eyes keep skipping around the room like he’s searching for another enemy lurking hidden in the shadows. “What happened? Where’s the Emperor?”

Ah – not an enemy, then.

Pax tastes bile.

“Not very quick on the uptake, are you?” she says, elbow braced against the statue’s massive marble claws (she hates touching it, she hates it, she hates it, she wants to set it crumbling apart, she doesn’t want to let anyone else touch it ever again). She can’t stop leaning because then she might topple back down again. Fuck, she needs to keep her head on straight – or lose it altogether, whichever happens faster. Her fingers feel cold. “How’re you going to run an Empire when you’re this fucking clueless?”

Ocato looks them in the face; his brow, high and slanted in that way elves have, furrows. “You’re hurt,” he says, in a tone like he expects Pax to argue with him. “Martin Septim–”

“Can’t you see him?” Pax demands, tone torn in half and uglier than they’ve ever heard it before, and they slam the back of their hand against the stone for echoing emphasis. (They want to shatter all the bones in their knuckles, break every piece in their hand one by one, like wishbones. They want it bloody and bruising. They want to scratch its polished-smooth surface until their fingernails tear. They want – they want – they want –)

Ocato, the Empire’s de facto leader, says, “Ah.”

In his plummy robes, all fruit-rich and stained with ash, he looks very stark against the Temple’s cracked marble floors.

“The Avatar,” he says. “If – the Amulet – joined blood of kings and gods –”

“Ocato,” says Pax, leaning heavy against the statue’s hateful foot, “shut up.” Their voice is bowstring-taut; he looks at them, his eyes too golden to meet. His mouth twists. They tip their head back against the stone, glaring up at the chips of blue sky shown in the crater where the roof once was, and try hard to ignore the tugging ache hooked behind their ribs.

It really fucking hurts. Worse than it did before, maybe, like some gauzy veil has been ripped from it. A veil has been ripped from the world. All the colours are too-bright, hideous. Pax breathes, because there’s no alternative, and waits for the pain to ebb.

(It doesn’t, really.)

“The Gates are sealed,” Ocato says, slowly, and he’s looking at her again, she can see out of the edge of her eye. “We will speak later. I’ll have you put up in the Palace until you’re healed. Ah – Quintus, does –”

“As long as she doesn’t go back into shock,” says the mage-medic, busily flipping through some kind of supply bag at his belt, “her odds are good. Lost blood, but I don’t think anything important was too damaged – get a proper examination, all I did was give her a second wind. Stitches, rest, fluids should do it, with luck.”

“Can she stand?”

“Can or should are –”

“Shut the fuck up,” Pax snaps, “I’m right here.” Her back pressed against the cold marble of the statue, her plait half-loose and knotted, filled with ash. The sky is so fucking blue. It hurts like hell – if the healer took her out of shock, then shit, she wishes he’d put her back in. She can see in too much detail. She can feel the skin, damp and ragged and angry. She presses the heel of her hand to the injury; her palm is crusted with dust, tacky with the same half-dried blood streaked over the floors.

Ocato, in the edges of her vision, shifts, all a blur of rich clothes and sympathetic eyes and solemn voice turned soft like he’s talking to an easily spooked horse. “I know.”

The mage-medic clucks his tongue. “Let me take another look first,” he says, and takes a step forward –

Pax kicks out at him before he even gets close. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Pax,” says Ocato – and why, why the fuck is the Empire’s de facto leader here, now, babying them like a whimpering little puppy instead of anywhere fucking else, why is he bothering to talk to them all patronising soft, why does he care? They’ve barely fucking met – talked twice, if you can call either of those times talking. Is it because they’re the Hero of Kvatch? Is this what they’ve earned – a bit of leeway as they throw a tantrum, bleeding out at the marble feet of that stupid bloody statue? Ocato looks so fucking tired; Pax wants to hit him in the nose. “You need care.”

“I need –” and Pax chokes it off in a puff of air. The statue looms behind them. There’s blood on the floors. (Traitor liar coward come back come back I hate you come down I’ll knock your fucking teeth in stupid selfish fraud come BACK. LOOK AT ME.)

Pax closes his eyes.

“My gratitude,” Ocato says, “ – our gratitude for what you’ve done cannot be overstated. The Crisis if over. The gates are sealed. Mehrunes Dagon and his ilk can never threaten Tamriel again.”

The knobs of Pax’s braid are pressing uncomfortably against their scalp. They can hear footsteps, coming closer. They don’t respond.

“It’s a great shame we had to pay such a price,” Ocato says, and Pax would fucking love to know who’s we here, “but it’s done. Dagon is defeated. We’ve won.” He’s much too close, now; his voice pitches softer. “Martin – is dead. But he died an Emperor – and a hero to rival Tiber Septim.”

Pax shoves him.

It’s a good fucking shove – knocks him right to the ground, his elbow hitting the marble with a painfully audible crack, Pax standing over him, shirt rucked up, their handprint on his shoulder marked in blood. “You useless, prattling jackass!” they spit, hoarse, and deal a swift, savage kick to his side. “How dare you act like this is a victory! It should have been me!”

Then their head swims, and they’re sitting again on the edge of the dais, palm pressed to their side, the sweaty cloth of their gambeson pushed half off their shoulder and its cord biting into their hand. The mage-medic is kneeling over Ocato, who still lies, stunned; Pax can’t see his eyes, now, but they remember them, brassy with shocked fear. Their bow is off by the wall where they left it. Pax’s palms are sticky with blood. The sky is so fucking blue. No matter how hard she rages the dragon won’t look down at them.

By the time the mage-medic has helped Ocato up, they’re gone. The Kvatch guard gambeson remains, smoke-smelling and crusted with blood, left like an offering at the statue’s feet. The Hero of Kvatch is never seen again.

[quetzaly-ameyali]

Atena defending Odysseus against the other gods is me having to defend my blorbos against the rest of the fandom

[dykedvonte]

(abt my last ask) thank you for the answer, your understanding of charas is trully stellar!

I wanted to ask, what's your take on recovery!au (unless you intend to cover it in your fic)? In the universe, where Jimmy happens, but the crew somehow survives. Everyone is traumatised, Anya is pregnant, Curly is disabled (could he even be able to afford disability aids? Pony express in no more, would they even be paid a sufficient compensation?). There is also a question of p*lice investigation (or whatever agency is responsible for space crimes), even more trauma... Man, it's bleak.

-💀

I like them sad but for emotional and physical recovery reason rather than all the actual legal stuff that would ensue.

I like when Swansea relapsing is explored and Daisuke losing a little bit of his light. I am clearly a big supporter of Anya and Curly remaining close friend after but I think exploring the unhealthy dynamics of the trauma bond they’d develop should be played with way more. I think it’s a bit annoying when people are on the nose about Anya telling Curly he should’ve done more, especially when he’s struggling through recovery.

I feel like people really want her to be a character to rub salt into wounds, just to give her something cathartic, but it’s just OOC for me. It’s not a kindness thing but I don’t think she wants that sort of guilt to stay with him like that? He did not do what Jimmy did, he could’ve done more to stop it but she would not intentionally try to direct what she can never take out towards Jimmy at Curly. At least when they all make it out. This is not to say she doesn’t think he shouldn’t have any remorse but she understands that no one else could have foreseen Jimmy crashing the ship or getting that bad.

I like when it gets psychoanalytic in fics with the crew. Talk about Curly finally opening up on details on how he and Jimmy were friends, have the others realize how bad Jimmy was to even Curly, not a lot of people realize that they don’t know how Jimmy was to him. Have Anya be angry and snippy, have her worry she’s becoming like Jimmy even though she could never be like him, it’s that fear though, that she is owed that cathartic release and may take it out on others in some selfish subconscious desire to reclaim control for herself. Have her actualize-herself, is med school the only option? What does she want now? Does Swansea divorce his wife, give up on the life he created because he was just following the path of a good man, one he didn’t believe? Or does he stay and use the time he has left to make it something he believes in. How is Daisuke? Is he more mature or does he lose a little light? What are his new aspirations if any? His relationship with his parents?

Ultimately, I think a recover au should really focus on just them actually getting to know each other and filling themselves. So much of their interactions were likely based on coworker dynamics first. With that out the window they are now people who can’t really move on from each other but need to move on in life.

[uncanny-tranny]

I promise you can speak about and denounce undesirable behaviour without attributing it to some in-born, immutable, unchanging trait that you must "civilize" away.

In this specific instance that inspired this, you really don't need to attribute bad behaviour that's done by a man with unchanging character traits. This isn't even solely about men, because doing this affects everyone, men included.

"Men needed to be civilized out of behaving this way!" Who are you expecting to be doing the civilizing and why? This is just defending the idea that women are responsible for training up men - the millenia-old idea that a man's failings are actually a woman's fault, not his.

As a man, I am responsible for my actions. You don't need to dehumanize me in order to preserve your misogyny and your need to hate a group of men. Don't get me wrong, this rhetoric absolutely is not good for men to face. It especially targets men who have experiences with marginalized identities. If you're on my page, you know that this is something I deal with personally, have personal stakes in that affect my life daily. I just also think we really need to remember that this issue exists in a context where women and other folks will inevitably be punished as a direct result of these ideas as well.

I need to make that last part emphatically clear: even if this rhetoric (somehow) only hurt men, it would still be wrong. It would still be wrong! I want to - as a man - remind people (especially those who already have decided to dehumanize entire groups of people) that nobody is safe from being exempt from punishment due to this rhetoric.

[steakout-05]

medic tf2 doodles?!?!?? in this economy!???!?!? (art from yesterday)

most gentle and sweet middle aged german man in the whole entire world smile vs planning to swap all of your organs with a series of interconnected frogs smile

a doodle i did of Medic and Archimedes.... he looks too round in this drawing, not smug and evil enough..... also Mitzi from the RAE appearance :D

i LOVE the voicelines Medic has with Haunted Archimedes, he's not disturbed or even slightly put off by the fact that his zombified dove is 1. talking and 2. has a violent and constant craving for brains. he's just like. being a slightly irritated pet owner about it. he's just like "ugh yes archimedes vants all zhe brains doesn't he. now shut up". also i think this is the most on-model medic drawing i've ever done wtf

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D