#anyways I love how their mask is broken and I feel like that should be more appreciated by people

[leaf-in-a-flower-garden]

I will NOT be learning human anatomy, but I WILL be learning Daleth’s mask’s anatomy

[the-oblivious-writer]

Heavy

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-Shot

Summary: After surviving a brutal attack that left you in a coma, you awaken to find the love of your life, Tara Carpenter, has vanished from your side despite the endless nights she spent holding your hand through the worst of it.

Warning(s): Trauma, no pronouns, references to past (Scream 6) violence, mental struggles, survivor's guilt, stalking, emotional manipulation (self-imposed), and PTSD.

Notes: I was listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers while writing this.

You never looked more beautiful than when you were dying.

That thought haunts Tara as she lies in her empty bed, tracing patterns on sheets that still smell faintly of your perfume. Three months since she last held your hand in that sterile hospital room. Three months of pretending she made the right choice.

The machines kept time with your heartbeat, a rhythm she memorized during those endless nights at your bedside. Sometimes, she still hears it in her dreams - that steady beeping that meant you were still fighting, still here, still hers. Until she decided you couldn't be hers anymore.

Sam stopped by earlier, concern etched in the corners of her eyes. "You're punishing yourself," she'd said, leaving a container of soup that now sits untouched on Tara's nightstand. Maybe she is. But isn't that better than the alternative? Better than waiting for the next masked figure to emerge from the shadows, seeking to add your name to the growing list of people she's lost?

Your coma lasted six weeks. Six weeks of Tara reading to you, singing softly when the nurses weren't around, telling you all the things she should have said before. How you made her feel safe in a world that had given her every reason not to be. How your laugh could chase away the darkness that sometimes threatened to swallow her whole. How you never treated her like she was broken, even when she felt held together by nothing but stubborn will and surgical tape.

She remembers the first time you kissed her, after that night at the bowling alley. You'd been so careful with her, like you understood without being told that touch wasn't always easy for her anymore. Your hands had framed her face like she was something precious, something worth protecting. If only you'd protected yourself from her instead.

The phone on her nightstand lights up with another missed call from Chad. He's been trying to get her to come out, insisting that isolation isn't the answer. But how can she explain that every time she closes her eyes, she sees you in that hospital bed? The bandages, the bruises, the way your chest rose and fell with mechanical precision because you couldn't breathe on your own. All because someone had wanted to hurt her, and you'd been brave enough - stupid enough - to step between her and the blade.

"I can't lose you," she had whispered to your unconscious form. "I won't survive it."

But when you finally opened your eyes, weak and confused but alive, Tara realized something worse than losing you to death: losing you by choice, pushing you away to keep you safe from the curse that seems to follow her like a shadow.

The breakup was clean, surgical - like so many of the scars that map her body. She'd practiced the words in front of her bathroom mirror until they stopped making her cry. "I can't do this anymore. I need space. I need to focus on healing." All the clichés that meant nothing and everything at once. You'd looked at her with those eyes that always saw too much, and for a moment, she thought you might fight her on it. Almost hoped you would.

But you didn't. You just nodded, pressed a kiss to her forehead that felt like goodbye, and walked away. Maybe you understood. Maybe you were tired of loving someone who carried death in her wake like a bitter perfume.

Tara rolls onto her side, pulling your old high school sweatshirt tighter around herself. It stopped smelling like you weeks ago, but she wears it anyway, a form of self-torture she can't seem to give up. On her desk, photographs mock her with frozen moments of happiness - you and her at the beach, your hair wild with salt air and sunshine. The two of you at the twins' birthday party, your arm around her waist as she actually smiled for the camera. A quiet morning in your apartment, where you'd captured her making coffee in one of your oversized t-shirts, looking at peace in a way she rarely felt anymore.

Her friends tell her she's different now. Quieter. The spark that had started to return during your time together has dimmed again. Even Mindy, who never comments on anything serious, asked if she was okay the other day. Tara had wanted to laugh. Okay? How could she be when you're forced to bear wounds that were meant for her? When she spends her nights parked across from your apartment, engine off, watching the soft glow of your bedroom light like a moth drawn to flame?

She tells herself it's protection, not obsession. That someone needs to make sure you're safe, even if you don't know they're there. But the truth sits heavy in her chest as she watches your silhouette move behind curtains - the way you still favor your left side, a reminder of wounds that were meant for her. Sometimes, she catches glimpses of you leaving for work, and the sight of you walking alone makes her hands shake against the steering wheel. You look smaller somehow, or maybe that's just the distance she's forced between you.

Last week, you almost saw her. You were collecting mail from your box, and something made you turn, scanning the street with that sixth sense you always seemed to have. Tara had ducked down so fast she'd knocked her head against the dashboard, heart thundering so loud she was sure you'd hear it even from across the street. When she finally dared to look again, you were gone, but she could have sworn there were tears on your cheeks.

She knows it's wrong. Knows that if Sam or Chad found out about these nightly vigils, they'd tell her she's sliding back into old patterns, letting trauma dictate her choices. But how can she explain that sleeping is impossible unless she knows you're safe? That every time she closes her eyes without checking on you, her nightmares paint your death in vivid technicolor?

It's only a matter of time before you two cross paths again. It happens at the corner market three blocks from your old shared apartment. The same place where you used to buy cookie dough ice cream at midnight, where Tara would pretend to complain about enabling your sweet tooth while secretly loving how your kisses tasted afterward. She's reaching for coffee - your brand, though she'll never admit it - when she hears the soft intake of breath behind her.

Time stretches like taffy, sticky and overwhelming. Your reflection in the freezer glass is both familiar and foreign - thinner maybe, or just holding yourself differently. The scar above your collarbone peeks out from your shirt collar, a silvery reminder of everything she's tried to forget.

"Tara."

Her name in your mouth still sounds like coming home. She forces herself to turn, to face the reality of you standing three feet away with a basket of groceries hanging from your arm. The fluorescent lights cast shadows under your eyes that weren't there before, and she wonders if you're sleeping any better than she is.

"You look..." The words tangle in her throat. Alive. Beautiful. Like everything I've been running from. "...good."

Your laugh is hollow, nothing like the sound she keeps locked away in her memory. "Liar." You shift your weight, and she catches the slight wince - another reminder of what loving her cost you. "You've lost weight."

"Haven't been hungry much." The confession slips out before she can stop it.

Something flashes across your face - concern, maybe anger. You take a step forward, and she matches it with a step back, her spine hitting the cold glass of the freezer door. The coffee can in her hands shakes slightly.

"Don't," she whispers, but she's not sure if she's talking to you or herself.

"Don't what, Tara? Don't care? Don't worry? Because I tried that. It doesn't work." Your voice cracks on the last word, and she watches you swallow hard. "I see your car, you know. Outside my apartment."

The confession lands like a physical blow. Heat crawls up her neck as shame mingles with something else - relief, maybe, that you still know her well enough to notice. That some part of you is still watching for her too.

"I just..." She closes her eyes, unable to bear the weight of your gaze. "I need to know you're safe."

"Safe?" Now there's definitely anger in your voice. "You want me safe? Then stop making decisions for both of us. Stop deciding what I can and can't handle. Stop-" Your voice breaks, and when she opens her eyes, there are tears tracking down your cheeks. "Stop acting like your love is a death sentence."

The coffee can clatters to the floor, forgotten. Her hands ache to reach for you, to wipe away those tears she caused. But she forces them to stay at her sides, nails digging crescents into her palms.

"You almost died," she says, the words tasting like copper in her mouth. "Because of me. Because I thought I could have this - have you - without danger following. I was wrong."

"No." You step closer, and this time she can't make herself move away. "I almost died because some psychopath decided to come after us with a knife. Not because of you. Never because of you."

Your hand reaches out, hovering just shy of touching her face. She can feel the heat of it, the promise of contact that makes her chest tight with wanting. The market's muzak plays faintly in the background, some old love song that feels like mockery.

"I miss you," you whisper, and it's the gentlest violence she's ever experienced. "I miss you, and I'm not sleeping, and sometimes I think I see you everywhere, only to turn around and find empty space. And then I realized I wasn't imagining it - you were actually there, watching over me like some heartbroken guardian angel."

A sob builds in her throat. "I don't know how to stop loving you."

"Then don't." Your hand finally makes contact, cupping her cheek, and Tara breaks. "Don't stop. Just... come home."

She leans into your touch for one heartbeat, two, allowing herself to remember what it feels like to be held by hands that know all her scars. Then she steps back, away from your warmth, your forgiveness, your love that feels too much like salvation.

"I can't." The words taste like ash. "I'm sorry. I can't."

She runs. Past the dropped coffee, past the concerned clerk, past everything but the sound of you calling her name. It follows her all the way home, where she collapses against her front door and finally lets herself cry for everything she keeps choosing to lose.

The worst part is knowing that if she could do it all over again - live another life, make different choices - she'd still choose you. Still fall for the way you dance off-beat to every song, still melt at how you bring her coffee just the way she likes it, still love you with every broken piece of herself. She'd just do a better job of staying away before you could love her back.

Night settles around her like a familiar weight. In the darkness, she can almost pretend you're still here, that this is just another evening where you'll wrap your arms around her and keep the nightmares at bay. But the bed stays empty, and the shadows stay thick, and somewhere across town, you're probably sleeping peacefully for the first time since you met her.

"I love you," she whispers to the empty room, words she never said enough when she had the chance. "I love you, and that's why I can't keep you."

The silence offers no comfort, no contradiction. Just the steady tick of her bedside clock, counting down the moments until another day without you begins. Another day of being strong enough to keep her distance, of choosing your safety over her happiness. Another day of remembering that sometimes love means knowing when to let go, even when every cell in your body screams to hold on tighter.

Sleep will come eventually, bringing dreams of your smile, your touch, the way you used to look at her like she hung the stars. And tomorrow, she'll wake up and do it all again - loving you from afar, keeping you safe the only way she knows how. Because that's what love is to Tara Carpenter now: not a fairy tale, not a happy ending, but a sacrifice she makes every day to keep you breathing.

Even if it means she can barely breathe herself.

-----------

A/N: the meaning behind The Maria's "Heavy" inspired this.

[xxspringmelodyxx]

“𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉…”

┗━⊱ 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 ⊰━┛

⊱ 𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝑭𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝑹𝒚𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 ⊰ wc: 7.0k

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Warnings: Swearing, angst, comfort ⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿

Thank you to another anon for this request! I hope you enjoy! <3333

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Satoru Gojo⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

I sat quietly on the couch, staring at the clock. The day was nearly over, and Satoru still hadn’t mentioned it. My heart ached as I replayed the events of the day in my mind, hoping he would say something—anything—to acknowledge my birthday. But he didn’t. Instead, he went about his usual routine, too busy with his own life to notice how much today meant to me.

When Satoru finally walked into the room, I could barely look at him. Anger, hurt, and disappointment swirled within me. How could he forget? After everything we’ve been through together, how could he overlook something as important as my birthday?

“Hey, baby,” he greeted me with his usual bright smile. “I’m starved. Let’s get something to eat.”

I forced a smile, trying to mask the hurt that was clawing at my chest. “Sure. You go ahead and pick something.”

As we sat at the table later that evening, Satoru was his usual carefree self, talking about his day, his work, and everything else that crossed his mind. But I could barely hear him over the thoughts racing in my head. The man I loved had forgotten my birthday—the one day I had hoped would be special.

That night, as Satoru slept soundly beside me, I lay awake, formulating a plan. If he could forget my birthday, maybe he deserved a taste of his own medicine. Maybe then he’d understand just how much it hurt.

---

A few weeks later, it was Satoru’s birthday. I woke up early, just as I always did, and went about my morning routine. I made breakfast for myself, not bothering to prepare anything for him, and left for work without so much as a “Happy Birthday.”

The entire day, I ignored his texts, his calls, everything. I knew he was probably confused, maybe even hurt, but I didn’t care. Not yet, anyway. This was his punishment.

When I finally returned home that evening, I found Satoru sitting on the couch, a forlorn expression on his face. He didn’t even greet me as I walked in, which was unusual for him.

“baby,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did I… do something wrong?”

I glanced at him, feigning indifference. “Why would you ask that?”

“It’s my birthday,” he said, his eyes searching mine for some sign of affection. “But… you haven’t said anything. You’ve been distant all day.”

I looked away, the memory of my own forgotten birthday fresh in my mind. “Maybe I just didn’t think it was that important.”

His face fell, and I could see the hurt in his eyes. A pang of guilt tugged at my heart, but I pushed it aside. This was what he deserved. He needed to understand.

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” I said, my voice colder than I intended. “But you didn’t think my birthday was important enough to remember, so why should I care about yours?”

His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “baby… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to forget. I’ve been so caught up with work, but that’s no excuse. I know I hurt you.”

I turned away from him, not wanting to let him see how much his words affected me. “I just wanted you to understand how it felt. To know what it’s like to be forgotten by the person you care about the most.”

Satoru didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost broken. “I do understand. And I’ll spend every day making it up to you. Just… please don’t shut me out like this. I don’t want to lose you.”

My resolve weakened. I had hurt him, just as he had hurt me, but the satisfaction I thought I would feel wasn’t there. Instead, all I felt was a deep sadness.

“Come with me,” I said quietly, taking his hand and leading him outside.

We walked in silence to a small clearing in the nearby park. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the area. I had prepared a simple picnic, just some of Satoru’s favorite foods and a blanket to sit on.

“I didn’t forget your birthday,” I finally admitted, my voice soft. “I just wanted you to know how much it hurt when you forgot mine.”

He looked at the picnic and then at me, his eyes filled with emotion. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling me into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I returned his embrace. “I know you are. And I forgive you. But you need to understand that it’s not just about the birthday. It’s about making time for each other, about showing that you care, even when life gets busy.”

Satoru nodded, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise I’ll do better. I never want to make you feel like that again.”

We sat together in the fading light, sharing the simple meal I had prepared. There was no need for grand gestures or expensive gifts. All that mattered was that we were together and that we had both learned something valuable.

As the stars began to appear in the night sky, Satoru took my hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Thank you for this,” he said softly. “And happy belated birthday, baby.”

I smiled through my tears, leaning into him. “Happy birthday, Satoru.”

And as we sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew that this was a moment we would never forget.

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Suguru Geto⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

The day had started like any other. I woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, the sound of birds chirping outside. I turned over in bed, expecting to feel Suguru’s warmth beside me, but the space was empty. He must have gotten up early, probably to meditate or attend to his responsibilities.

As I got ready for the day, I found myself checking my phone more often than usual. Every time it buzzed, my heart would leap, only to be disappointed by a random notification or message that wasn’t from him. The hours passed, and still nothing. Not a single mention of my birthday.

I tried to push the thoughts away, convincing myself that he was just busy. Suguru always had a lot on his plate, and I didn’t want to be a burden. But as the day wore on, that familiar ache in my chest grew stronger. How could he forget?

It wasn’t until late afternoon when I heard the excited footsteps of Nanako and Mimiko running through the house. They burst into the room, their faces bright with smiles.

“Happy Birthday, mama!” Nanako exclaimed, throwing her arms around me.

“We made you something!” Mimiko added, holding out a small, hand-drawn card filled with colorful hearts and stars.

I smiled, my heart warming at their thoughtfulness. “Thank you, girls. This means so much to me.”

But the warmth quickly faded as reality hit me. They remembered, but Suguru hadn’t. The girls must have noticed the change in my expression because they exchanged worried glances.

“Did… did Suguru say anything?” Nanako asked cautiously.

I shook my head, forcing a smile. “He’s been busy. It’s okay.”

Mimiko frowned, clearly upset. “But it’s your birthday! He’s supposed to know that!”

“It’s not fair,” Nanako agreed, crossing her arms. “He should be here celebrating with you.”

I tried to reassure them, not wanting to dampen their spirits. “It’s fine, really. Sometimes people forget.”

But as I said it, I knew it wasn’t fine. Not really. And I could see that the girls weren’t convinced either.

---

By evening, I had given up on hoping. I found Suguru in the garden, sitting under the large oak tree, his eyes closed in quiet contemplation. He looked peaceful, almost ethereal, as if the worries of the world couldn’t touch him. But I couldn’t share in that peace. Not today.

“Hey,” I called out softly as I approached.

Suguru opened his eyes and smiled up at me. “Hey, you. Come join me.”

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside him. We sat in silence for a while, the only sounds around us being the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city.

“I was thinking we could do something tonight,” he said eventually, turning to me with a gentle expression. “Maybe grab dinner, take a walk, or just stay in and watch something. What do you think?”

My heart sank. Even now, he didn’t realize what today was. “Sure,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Whatever you want.”

Suguru reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “Are you okay? You seem a little… distant.”

Before I could respond, Nanako and Mimiko came rushing into the garden, their expressions a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“Suguru!” Nanako exclaimed, her hands on her hips. “How could you forget Y/N’s birthday?”

Mimiko nodded vigorously, her eyes wide. “We remembered, and we’re just kids!”

Suguru’s eyes widened as the color drained from his face. He looked at me, then back at the girls. “What…? No, I didn’t forget…”

But the truth was written all over his face. He had forgotten.

“Suguru,” I said quietly, pulling my hand from his. “It’s okay. I understand that you’ve been busy.”

“No, it’s not okay,” Nanako insisted, glaring at Suguru. “You need to make this right!”

Suguru looked utterly lost, his usual calm demeanor shattered. “Y/N… I’m so sorry. I’ve been so caught up in everything else, but that’s no excuse. I can’t believe I forgot.”

The girls stood there, arms crossed, waiting for his next move. I could tell they were upset, not just for me, but because they looked up to Suguru so much. He was their protector, their guide—and he had let us all down.

I took a deep breath, feeling the hurt begin to ebb into something more manageable. “Suguru… maybe you should talk to the girls for a bit. I’m going to go for a walk.”

---

The days that followed were a blur of awkward silence and half-hearted attempts at reconciliation. Suguru apologized repeatedly, but something between us had shifted. We still lived together, went through the motions, but it felt different. The warmth, the easy laughter—it all seemed distant.

I could tell he was trying. He left me small gifts, little notes apologizing again, and gestures meant to make up for his forgetfulness, but I wasn’t ready to forgive so easily. Every time I looked at him, I couldn’t help but remember the hurt I felt on my birthday, the sting of being forgotten by the person I loved most.

Instead of dwelling on the pain, I began working on something special. Each time I withdrew from him, it was because I was spending hours in my little crafting corner, crocheting. I decided to create something that would remind him of what mattered most—something that would mean more than words ever could.

I crocheted tiny versions of us: Suguru, me, the girls, and even his beloved dragon. Each doll took hours of painstaking work, and every stitch was filled with the love I still held for him, despite the distance between us. As the days passed and his birthday drew nearer, I worked in secret, pouring my heart into the project.

On the morning of his birthday, I acted as if it were just another day. I made breakfast, but didn’t acknowledge the significance of the date. Suguru watched me, his eyes filled with hope that today would be different, but I remained distant, giving him only short, polite answers to his attempts at conversation.

As the day went on, I could see the realization dawning on him. I wasn’t going to acknowledge his birthday. He tried to mask his disappointment, but it was clear in the way his shoulders slumped, in the way he avoided meeting my gaze.

By evening, Suguru seemed to have given up. He sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television, but not really watching it. The once lively atmosphere in our home had turned somber, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension.

I felt a pang of guilt. This wasn’t how I wanted things to be. I had wanted him to understand, but now I was only adding to the pain. Taking a deep breath, I decided it was time to make things right.

---

“Suguru,” I said softly, approaching him where he sat. He looked up at me, his eyes tired and filled with a mix of emotions—confusion, sadness, and a glimmer of hope.

I began, pulling out a small box. I opened it to reveal the tiny crocheted dolls, each one representing him, me, the girls, and his dragon. His eyes widened in surprise, his breath catching as he took in the sight.

“I didn’t forget your birthday,” I continued, my voice trembling slightly. “Every time I ignored you, I was working on this. I wanted you to have something that would remind you of what’s important—of us, of the family we’ve built.”

Suguru stared at the dolls, his fingers gently brushing over the tiny figures. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked back at me. “Y/N… this is… I don’t even have words. Thank you.”

Before I could say more, I signaled to the girls, who had been hiding nearby. They came out, beaming, carrying a small cake with candles lit. As they started singing "Happy Birthday," Suguru’s face broke into a wide, emotional smile.

The girls’ voices were filled with joy, and as they sang, I could see the weight lifting from Suguru’s shoulders. When they finished, he blew out the candles, and the girls cheered, wrapping their arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru whispered to me as the girls giggled and clung to him. “I’m sorry for everything.”

I leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I know, Suguru. I forgive you. Don’t do it again though, or else I’ll never make you crocheted stuff again!” I joke

He nodded, his eyes still misty. “I promise, my dear. I’ll do better. I never want to make you feel like that again.”

As we sat together, sharing the cake and enjoying the night, I felt a sense of peace settle over us. The tension had lifted, replaced by the warmth

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kento Nanami⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

The day Nanami forgot my birthday, I felt the hurt sink deep into my chest, but I didn’t let it show. I had spent the entire day waiting, hoping he would remember—waiting for a text, a call, something to acknowledge the day. But as the hours passed, it became clear that he wasn’t going to.

When he finally got home late that night, he looked exhausted, his usual composed demeanor weighed down by the day’s work. He walked in with a tired smile, greeted me with a kiss on the forehead, and headed straight for the shower without a single mention of my birthday. Not even a glance at the beautifully set table I had prepared or the dinner that was now cold and untouched.

I swallowed the hurt, forcing a smile when he emerged from the shower. I knew that if he didn’t care enough to remember, I wasn’t going to remind him. Instead, I decided I would give him a taste of his own medicine.

The days turned into weeks, and I carried on as if nothing was wrong. I acted like the perfect partner, hiding my disappointment behind a veil of normalcy. I waited patiently, knowing that Nanami’s birthday was approaching, and I had every intention of “accidentally” forgetting it.

When his birthday finally arrived, I made sure to play my part flawlessly. I woke up early, just like any other day, and went about my routine without acknowledging the significance of the date. Nanami, ever the observant one, noticed the lack of celebration. He glanced at me throughout the day, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and disappointment, but he never said a word.

By the time evening rolled around, I could see the weight of the day pressing down on him. But instead of confronting the silence, Nanami buried himself in paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. It was clear he was using work as a distraction, trying to avoid the painful realization that I hadn’t acknowledged his birthday.

He sat at the dining table, papers spread out before him, the soft scratching of his pen the only sound in the room. Every so often, he would glance at the empty space where I usually sat, but I stayed in the kitchen, letting the silence speak for itself.

As the night grew late, I knew the lesson had been learned. Nanami’s shoulders were tense, his movements growing slower as the exhaustion and disappointment weighed on him. He looked up as I approached, his eyes weary, filled with a quiet hurt.

“I’m going to the kitchen to grab something,” I said casually, as if the day had been completely ordinary.

He nodded absently, his focus returning to the papers in front of him, though I could see the conflict in his eyes. He was trying to push through the pain, to keep working, but the disappointment was too heavy to ignore.

A few minutes later, I returned with a small cake in one hand and a neatly wrapped gift in the other. Nanami looked up, his pen still in hand, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw what I was holding.

“Happy Birthday, Kento,” I said softly, placing the cake on the table beside his paperwork.

His expression was a mixture of guilt and relief as he slowly put down his pen. “You… you didn’t forget?”

I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips. “No, I didn’t forget. But I wanted you to feel what I felt.”

He stared at the cake and the gift for a long moment before finally meeting my eyes as he was hit with realization. His voice thick with emotion. “I’m…im sorry, honey. I’m so sorry for forgetting yours.”

I sighed, sitting down beside him. “It wasn’t just about forgetting the date, Kento. It’s about feeling like I don’t matter enough to be remembered. That hurts more than anything.”

Nanami reached out and took my hand, his grip firm but gentle. “You do matter. More than anything. I’ve been so consumed with work that I lost sight of what’s truly important. I’ll never let that happen again.”

I smiled, leaning into him as I spoke. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

As we shared the cake and he opened the simple, meaningful gift I had prepared—a reminder of our time together—I could see the relief and determination in his eyes. The tension that had built up over the past few weeks began to dissolve, replaced by a renewed sense of connection between us.

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Choso Kamo⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

It was already midday, and I hadn’t heard a word from Choso. The hours had slipped by with no messages, no calls—nothing to indicate that he remembered what today was. My heart sank a little more with each passing minute, but I tried to push the thoughts away, convincing myself that he was probably busy.

I picked up my phone, deciding to reach out to him instead. Maybe he was planning something and just hadn’t had the chance to text yet.

“Hey, what are you up to today?” I typed, hoping for some sign that he hadn’t completely forgotten.

A few minutes later, his reply came through: “Hanging out with Yuuji! We’re at the arcade right now, having a blast. How about you?”

I stared at the screen, the pit in my stomach growing heavier. He was at the arcade, completely engrossed in his day with Yuuji. And he hadn’t even asked about mine.

“Glad you’re having fun. I’m just relaxing at home,” I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my words. I didn’t add anything else, not wanting to come off as passive-aggressive. But it hurt—there was no denying that.

The rest of the day passed slowly. I tried to distract myself with chores, reading, anything to take my mind off the fact that Choso had forgotten. But nothing really worked. The disappointment lingered, gnawing at me with every hour that passed.

By the time evening rolled around, I had resigned myself to the fact that Choso wasn’t going to remember. I decided not to cook anything special; instead, I settled for leftovers from the night before. I sat at the table, eating alone, the quiet of the apartment only amplifying the ache in my chest.

It was well into the night when I finally heard the door open. Choso walked in, his face lit up with a smile as he kicked off his shoes. “Baby, you should’ve come with us! Yuuji and I had the best time today,” he said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he headed toward the kitchen where I was tidying up.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, forcing a smile. “Sounds like you had a great day.”

He nodded, oblivious to my strained tone. “Yeah, we did! We hit up the arcade, grabbed some ramen, and then just wandered around for a bit. I haven’t had a day like this in a long time.”

I turned back to the sink, scrubbing a plate a little harder than necessary. “I’m glad you had fun.”

Choso’s smile faltered as he noticed the tension in my shoulders. He walked over to me, placing a hand on my arm. “Hey… are you okay?”

I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak just yet. I could feel his eyes on me, searching for answers that I wasn’t ready to give.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with concern.

I set the plate down and turned to face him, meeting his gaze head-on. “Choso, do you know what today is?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Today? Uh… it’s Saturday?”

I sighed, the hurt in my chest expanding. “It’s my birthday, Choso.”

His eyes widened, and the color drained from his face as the realization hit him. “Oh, no…baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I was so caught up with Yuuji that I didn’t even think—”

“You didn’t think,” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You spent the entire day with Yuuji, having fun, while I sat here waiting for you to remember. But you didn’t.”

Choso’s face crumpled with guilt, and he stepped closer, his hands reaching for mine. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot your birthday. I didn’t mean to—”

I pulled away, shaking my head. “It’s like I’m not important enough to be remembered. Like I come second.”

His shoulders sagged, and he looked down at the floor, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not second, baby. You’re everything to me. I just… I messed up. I’m sorry.”

I watched him, my heart heavy with the weight of the day. I knew he hadn’t meant to hurt me, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. “I needed you today, Choso. I needed you to remember.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. And I’ll spend every day making it up to you. I promise.”

For a long moment, we stood there in silence, the words hanging between us. Finally, I sighed, letting some of the tension slip away. “It’s okay,” I said quietly. “But next time, don’t forget.”

Choso looked up at me, his eyes filled with remorse. “I won’t. I promise.”

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly as if afraid to let go. I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace soothe some of the hurt. It would take time to fully move past the disappointment, but I knew that we would get there. After all, love isn’t about never making mistakes—it’s about learning from them and growing together.

A few months passed, and Choso’s birthday was just around the corner. Despite his promises to make it up to me, the hurt from my birthday still lingered in the back of my mind. I decided that maybe it was time for him to experience what it felt like to be forgotten—just for a little while.

When his birthday arrived, I played my part perfectly. I woke up early, just like any other day, and went about my routine without acknowledging the significance of the date. Choso seemed puzzled, his eyes flicking toward me with an unspoken question as the morning passed in silence.

Instead of spending the day with him, I made plans to hang out with Shoko. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said casually, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. “Don’t wait up.”

Choso looked at me, his confusion deepening. “Wait, where are you going? It’s—”

“Just meeting Shoko for lunch,” I cut in, my tone light. “I’ll be back later.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I left, closing the door behind me. As I walked to meet Shoko, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. He had no idea what was coming.

Shoko and I spent the day gathering everyone together at the park, making sure everything was set up perfectly for Choso’s surprise party. The weather was perfect—a clear, sunny day with just enough breeze to keep things comfortable. We set up tables under the shade of the trees, decorated with lights and streamers, and laid out blankets on the grass for everyone to sit on.

It was hard to keep the secret, especially when I received a few texts from Choso throughout the day, asking what I was up to and if I was planning anything. I kept my replies vague, letting him stew in the uncertainty.

By evening, the preparations were complete. The park was filled with our friends, all smiling and laughing as they waited for the guest of honor. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, with the smell of grilled food wafting through the air and the sound of children playing in the distance.

I texted Choso one last time, telling him I was on my way back and that I needed him to meet me at the park. He responded quickly, his messages a mix of curiosity and confusion.

When he arrived at the park, he looked around, clearly unsure of what was happening. I walked up to him with a smile, taking his hand and leading him toward the gathering.

As we approached, everyone jumped out from their hiding spots, shouting, “Surprise!”

Choso froze, his eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. The park was filled with our friends, all smiling and cheering, the tables laden with food and a cake in the center. Shoko was grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying the look of shock on Choso’s face.

“You… you planned all this?” Choso asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

I nodded, unable to suppress my smile. “Happy Birthday, Cho~”

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at me with a mix of awe and guilt. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me as if he never wanted to let go.

“I thought… I thought you forgot,” he whispered against my hair, his voice trembling slightly.

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my smile softening. “I wanted you to know what it felt like. But I would never forget your birthday, Choso.”

He looked at me, his eyes filled with emotion. “I’m sorry for what happened on your birthday. I’ll never take you for granted again.”

I leaned up to kiss him gently, letting the warmth of his words sink in. “I know you won’t. Now, let’s enjoy your party.”

As we joined our friends in the park and celebrated his birthday, the lingering hurt from my own began to fade away. Choso had learned his lesson, and I knew that our bond was stronger for it. After all, love is about forgiveness, understanding, and sometimes, a little playful revenge.

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Toji Fushiguro⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

It was late, the darkness outside the window deepening with each passing minute. The apartment was quiet, save for the distant hum of city life. I sat at the dining table, staring at the cold meal I had prepared hours earlier. The candles had long since burned out, leaving only wisps of smoke and the scent of wax lingering in the air.

Toji was supposed to be home by now. He had left early in the morning for a mission, one of those jobs that could go on indefinitely. I knew how these missions worked—time blurred when he was out there, his focus entirely on the task at hand. But today, of all days, I had hoped he would remember to come home.

As the hours stretched into the night, I finally realized that he wasn’t coming back—not in time to celebrate my birthday, at least. There had been no message, no call, not even a sign that he remembered. The weight of disappointment settled over me like a heavy blanket, and I couldn’t shake it off.

I cleared the table quietly, putting away the untouched food. My movements were slow, almost mechanical, as if any sudden motion might crack the fragile calm I was trying to maintain. I blew out the last candle and headed to bed, my heart heavy with the realization that Toji had forgotten.

When I crawled into bed, the sheets were cold, and the emptiness beside me felt like a void I couldn’t fill. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying the day in my mind. It hurt more than I wanted to admit, but I wasn’t one to dwell on things I couldn’t change.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the front door creaking open. Toji’s footsteps were heavy, and I could hear the rustle of his clothes as he dropped his gear by the door. He was back, finally.

I stayed in bed, listening as he moved through the apartment, his footsteps hesitant as he approached the bedroom. The door creaked open, and I felt him pause in the doorway.

“You awake?” His voice was low, cautious.

I turned over, meeting his gaze. He looked tired, his clothes rumpled and his eyes slightly red. I nodded, sitting up slowly. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

He came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back sooner. The mission…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” I replied, my voice steady but distant. “You’re home now.”

Toji studied my face, his brows knitting together in concern. “Did something happen?”

I shook my head, forcing a small smile. “No. Nothing happened.”

He frowned, clearly picking up on the underlying tension. “You sure? You seem… off.”

I didn’t reply immediately, letting the silence stretch between us. Finally, I looked him in the eye. “It was my birthday yesterday.”

Toji blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to realization. He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I completely forgot.”

I nodded, looking down at my hands. “I know. You were busy.”

He reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to forget. You know that, right? I just… I get so caught up in this stuff, and time slips away.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But it still hurt.”

Toji’s grip tightened slightly, his face clouded with guilt. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

I met his gaze, my voice calm but firm. “I just…sometimes you need to understand that there are more important things than work. I am grateful for you working, but I’m even more grateful when you spend time with me.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing my words. “You’re right. I’ll do better. I promise.”

The week passed quickly, and soon it was the night before Toji’s birthday. He hadn’t mentioned it once, likely feeling guilty about what had happened on mine. But I had a plan, one that would show him I wasn’t holding a grudge, even if I had been hurt.

On the day of his birthday, Toji left for another short mission, unaware of what I had in store. I spent the day preparing, making sure everything was perfect. I arranged a quiet dinner at a small, secluded cabin outside the city—a place where we could escape from everything and just focus on each other.

—

When he returned that evening, he was not met with your wonderful kisses, or the beautiful sounds of your voice or laughter. It was just empty. Were you ignoring him?

He felt a pang in his chest. He didn’t realize how badly it would impact him to be alone on his birthday. It reminded him of old times.

“Doll? You here?” He asked, his voice filled with desperation. But all he heard was the sounds of the lights buzzing.

He slumped over, feeling his heart ache. Now he knew how you felt, and it was awful. He hated the feeling, but he knew he deserved it. Its all he deserved…

As Toji walked further into your shared home, he found a note on the table with instructions to meet you at the cabin.

You had arranged for a car to take him there, knowing he would be too tired to drive himself.

—

When Toji arrived at the cabin, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The cabin was lit warmly from the inside, a soft glow spilling out onto the porch.

He stepped inside cautiously, calling out my name. “Baby?”

I appeared from the kitchen, smiling softly as I wiped my hands on a towel. “Happy Birthday, Toji.”

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of the cozy, candle-lit cabin, the table set with a simple but delicious-looking meal. He looked at me, his expression a mix of surprise and gratitude.

“You did all this… for me?” he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, walking over to him. “I did. I wanted to do something special, just for us.”

He reached out, pulling me into his arms, his embrace tight and warm. “I thought… after what happened on your birthday… I didn’t think you’d want to do anything.”

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “I was hurt, Toji. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I wanted to show you that we can still make time for each other, even when things get tough.”

He nodded, his expression softening as he leaned down to kiss me gently. “Thank you, doll. I needed this. I needed you.”

We spent the evening together, just the two of us, away from the chaos of his work and the pressures of everyday life. As we sat by the fire later that night, Toji pulled me close, his voice soft and sincere.

“I’ll do better,” he promised. “I won’t let work come between us again.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the fire and the steady beat of his heart. “We’ll be okay, Toji. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Sukuna Ryomen⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

Sukuna was never one to dwell on sentimentality. His world was one of power, control, and dominance. He wasn’t one to coddle or concern himself with trivial matters like birthdays. I knew this about him from the beginning, yet, somehow, a part of me hoped that he would remember—just this once.

The day passed quietly. Sukuna was his usual self—intense, brooding, and wholly consumed by his own thoughts. We spent the day in the manor, a place that felt more like a fortress than a home. The dark halls echoed with silence, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

I had learned long ago not to expect much from Sukuna when it came to displays of affection. But today, of all days, I had hoped for something different. A simple acknowledgment, a word, anything that showed he remembered.

But as the hours slipped by, it became clear that he didn’t. There were no subtle glances, no lingering touches, nothing to suggest that today held any significance for him. The weight of disappointment settled over me like a shadow, growing heavier with each passing minute.

By evening, I had resigned myself to the reality of the situation. Sukuna, the King of Curses, had forgotten my birthday. It shouldn’t have surprised me, yet the sting was still sharp.

I found him in the grand hall, seated on his throne-like chair, lost in thought. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression unreadable as he gazed out into the darkness beyond the windows.

I approached him quietly, my footsteps barely making a sound on the cold stone floor. “Sukuna,” I called out softly, my voice almost lost in the vastness of the hall.

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze slowly shifting to me as if I were an afterthought. “What is it?” he asked, his tone indifferent.

I hesitated for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of recognition, but there was none. I forced a small smile, trying to hide the disappointment that threatened to spill over. “Nothing. I just wanted to say goodnight.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the change in my demeanor. “Goodnight? Already?”

“Yes,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

He didn’t question me further, simply nodding as he turned his gaze back to the darkness. “Very well.”

I turned and walked away, my heart heavy with unspoken words. As I made my way to the bedroom, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being forgotten, of being insignificant in the eyes of the man I loved.

The next morning, I woke early, my mind already working on what I needed to do. Sukuna’s birthday was in a few days, and while I had initially planned something special, the hurt from yesterday still lingered. I decided to change my approach—he needed to understand what it felt like to be overlooked.

For the next few days, I continued my usual routine, but I was distant. I didn’t linger in the halls where he might pass, didn’t seek him out for our usual conversations. I kept to myself, letting the silence stretch between us.

Sukuna, in his usual manner, didn’t comment on the change. He was too proud, too detached to ask why I was being distant. But I could see the flicker of curiosity in his eyes whenever we crossed paths, the subtle tightening of his jaw when I didn’t engage with him as I normally would.

The day of Sukuna’s birthday arrived, and I played my part perfectly. I went about my tasks as if it were just another day, not once acknowledging the date. I didn’t greet him in the morning, didn’t prepare anything special. I simply acted as if it held no importance at all.

As the hours passed, I could feel the tension growing. Sukuna wasn’t one to show vulnerability, but I knew him well enough to sense the shift in his demeanor. By the time evening rolled around, the air was thick with unspoken words.

I found him in the same grand hall, seated in his usual spot. His gaze was sharper this time, his expression more focused as I approached.

“My pet,” he called out as I entered, his voice carrying a subtle edge.

I paused, meeting his gaze with a calm expression. “Yes?”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I’ve been busy.”

“With what?” he demanded, his tone growing sharper.

I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head slightly. “Does it matter?”

His eyes flashed with irritation, and he stood, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides. “You’re hiding something,” he accused, his voice low and dangerous.

I met his gaze evenly, refusing to back down. “Am I?”

His grip on my arm tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to show that he wasn’t pleased. “Yes. You are.”

I sighed softly, letting the silence stretch between us for a moment before finally speaking. “It’s your birthday, Sukuna.”

His eyes widened slightly, the only indication that he was surprised. “You remembered?”

“Of course I did,” I replied, my voice steady. “But you didn’t remember mine.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, his grip on my arm loosening as he processed my words. For a moment, there was only silence between us, the weight of my statement hanging heavily in the air.

“I…” he began, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“You forgot,” I continued, my voice soft but firm. “You didn’t even realize what day it was.”

He stared at me, the realization sinking in. For the first time, I saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or guilt. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

“I didn’t mean to,” he finally said, his voice quieter than usual.

“I know,” I replied, my tone softening. “But it still hurt.”

Sukuna let out a slow breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m not good at… these things.”

I stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest. “I don’t need grand gestures, Sukuna. I just need to know that I matter to you.”

He looked down at me, his expression unreadable for a moment before he finally nodded. “You do. More than you know.”

I smiled slightly, feeling the tension begin to ease. “Then show me. Don’t just say it.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding again, more firmly this time. “I will.”

That evening, we didn’t have a grand celebration, but we did spend it together. Sukuna, true to his word, made an effort to show me that I mattered. It wasn’t in the form of gifts or elaborate displays of affection—those weren’t his style. But he stayed close, his presence a silent acknowledgment of the mistake he had made.

And as we sat together in the quiet of the night, I realized that, despite his flaws and his pride, Sukuna was capable of learning, of growing. It would take time, but I was willing to be patient. Because love, especially with someone like Sukuna, wasn’t about perfection. It was about understanding, forgiveness, and the small moments where we could find common ground.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been thinking about this for a while

Reader that got sucked into the portal came back, stanley is overjoyed and is slowly healing from the guilt, ford and the others are very happy for them...

If weirdmageddon still happen and stanley has to lose his memory to defeat bill, how would reader react?

You knew it needed to be done but that didn’t make it hurt less to see the man you loved, the man you had spend thirty unfair years away from, look at you like a stranger as you pulled away from the one sided hug.

‘Stanley.’ You whispered in hopes that it would elicit some familiarity within him, but nothing his eyes were still confused and dazed as they were five minutes ago, which only proved in breaking your heart further as a broken sob broke from your lips as you burrowed your face into his shoulder. Stanley didn’t know who you were or what you were to him but he couldn’t let someone as gorgeous/handsome as you cry into his shoulder without at least trying to give you comfort by awkwardly patting you on the back.

‘His mind has been completely wiped y/n.’ Ford began as he could feel his own heart break at the sight of two lovers who were separated unfairly, brought back together, only to be separated once again by means of memory wiping one of them to save an entire town. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through as you had only came back from the portal not even a couple of days ago, it wasn’t fair on you and he knew it but before making the deal with Bill, Stanley made Ford promise to look after you and the twins should anything happen to him during the whole ordeal.

‘He doesn’t remember us…’ he then trailed off as it seemed that his words only made you tighten your grasp on Stanley, who’s tightened in return as he glared as his twin brother, though that major fact was lost on him, as to Stanley he might as week be falling at his own mirrored reflection more so then an actual relative.

‘Hey! Stop making the pretty person cry harder than they already are!’ Stan barks as he rubs his hand up and down your back before his face softens as he whispers to you, ‘someone as pretty as you shouldn’t cry for no one.’ This only made you sob even harder as this was one of the very first things that Stanley ever said to you after your breakup with your douche of an ex. It was also the first time you knew that this man would become incredibly special to you, even if he did do stuff that annoyed you, but you couldn’t help but love Stanley for who he was; a loveable man with a big heart forced to mask it thanks in due to his crappy fathers influence.

You didn’t know if you’d ever get your Stanley back, the Stanley that whenever you were annoyed with him would kiss your face until you smiled, the Stanley that would swipe money form people with deep pockets just to spoil you with it later for an impromptu date night, the Stanley you loved even when he had a mullet and looking good with it too; However you were determined to get him back in any means possible, you didn’t want to go through the remainder of your life without him ever again, you already did that and it was the most horrible thing you’ve experienced.

Sure the portal and the multiverse you’ve traveled and became notoriously wanted in -Stanley would be proud- has hardened you but one thing remained true, Stanley was your weakness, your Achilles heel as he was your soulmate through and through. So if there was anyway to getting his memories back you’d do it no matter what, no matter how long it took because all you wanted was your Stanley back, and you will get him back.

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆REGRETS

Content warnings: Angst, Death, Foul Language, Toxic behaviors, Unhealthy Relationships.

Pairings: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem! Reader

“Are you still thinking about her?”

Obanai questioned, leaning  into the oak tree with his hands behind his head as his heterochromic eyes dissected every flicker of emotion on the wind hashira’s face, searching for clues hidden beneath the mask of indifference that sanemi had.

Sanemi didn’t answer at first, opting to shred a blade of grass between his calloused fingers. The muscles in his jaw tensed as he chewed the inside of his cheek.

“No i’m not.”

He avoided Obanai's searching gaze, staring up into the leaves instead as they rustled gently in the breeze. 

Obanai gave him a look.

The serpent hashira knew how sanemi’s mind works. He was probably thinking about you again, and fuck was he right, Sanemi was thinking about you.

He was thinking of you like some lovesick idiot, he was thinking of your smile, the way you’d bark insults back at him whenever he’s in the mood to be grumpy.

The way you feel, and the sweet sighs you’d breathe into his skin.

He missed how well you knew him, able to read his moods with just a glance.

And damn, did he wonder what would happen if he didn’t acted on impulse back then?

What if instead of breaking up with you, and telling you to just leave the corps, he supported your decision?

Would things be different? Would the two of you still be together?

Would he be able to marry you like he had always wanted to?

“I know you’re thinking about her, Shinazugawa.” Obanai interrupted his wishful thinkings bluntly. Sanemi shot him an irritated glance but didn’t deny it.

There was no point in arguing — Obanai could see right through him anyways.

“Thinking of what could have been if you didn’t split up, yeah? Putting a ring on her finger?”

“Tch. Mind your own business,” he grunted.

“So what if i am thinking about her? It doesn’t matter.” sanemi answered bluntly, making obanai sigh.

“You should move on. it’s been a year and a half.” Obanai replied.

“It’s pathetic to still yearn for a girl. When you wwre the one who broke up with her in the first place.”

“I know it’s pathetic. You don’t have to remind me.”

Sanemi scowled.

He hated it—the reminder that he was the one who had broken your heart, the one who had walked away.

The mere mention of you was like a blade, pristine yet serrated; It was a very sensitive topic for sanemi.

Whenever you were the topic, Sanemi grew sensitive—He disliked discussing about you, because it hurts and left him feeling ashamed.

He loathed this conversation, this topic that dug into the wounds he thought had scabbed over, and he was ashamed that he was the one who broke your heart, when now he was the one pining and in pain. 

Why the fuck did the both of you have to be so stubborn?

All he wanted was to protect you—to shield you from the bloodshed and gore he faced daily as a demon slayer—yet your determination to join and spill demon guts for vengeance for your family was as immovable as a mountain.

Time and again he pleaded with you, begged you to reconsider, to choose another path, any path but that one. But you wouldn’t bend. 

It hurts him whenever he remembers that you and two had something special back then.

Every time he returned home injured from a mission, you would gently clean and dress his wounds with a tender touch, wanting nothing more than to ease his pain.

Your days were spent caring for the handful of stray dogs he had rescued from the streets, nursing them back to health alongside your own beloved pets and your relationship with him was basically all sunshines and rainbows.

But that was until a demon attacked and slaughtered your family.

Your gentleness turned hard as stone. Gone was the refuge you once shared; in its place grew thorns of bitterness, vengefulness, and distrust. All the love you had poured into caring for sanemi and your home seemed wasted and all you cared about was getting revenge. 

And your relationship became toxic, always arguing and all.

Though, one argument made him snap — when you said something hurtful about him.  He knew that he shouldn’t have risen to the bait, shouldn’t have let his temper get the best of him, but damn you just know how to push his buttons.

And before he knew what he was doing, the words were spewing from his mouth like vomit—words he could never take back, words meant to wound as deeply as you’d wounded him, and in the heat of the moment, he ended up storming out and dumping you on the spot, so that you’d quit the corps because he knew you wouldn’t want to see his face anymore or some shit like that.

Sanemi ran both hands roughly through his white hair in stress, tugging slightly in frustration as the events replayed in his mind. The hurtful words you had said were burned into his memory.

He let out a groan and leaned back against the tree, eyes closed as he tried to forget the look on your face when he left.

But no matter what he did, he just couldn’t escape the guilt.

And the fact that obanai just kept mentioning you was just adding salt into the wound.

 “If you miss her so bad, why don’t you just send her a letter and apologize?” Obanai asked casually, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Lower your pride a little. It wouldn’t kill you.” He added.

 “Trust me, I’ve always wanted to apologize.” Sanemi huffed out gruffly. 

“Damn it... I look like such a dramatic fool.” He grumbled to himself, cringing as he recalled his rash actions.

“Then why don’t you send her a letter? You know where to find her...” Obanai said with an arched brow, as if the solution was obvious.  

“I don’t wanna bother her.” Sanemi muttered, already dreading your possible reaction if he tried to reach out, he feared that you’d just tell him to fuck off.

But maybe Obanai was right... He really needed to apologize.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐀/𝐍: i was listening to xxxx by loonie when i was writing this dawg, it fits the theme & atmosphere of this fic... Same ground by kitchie nadal fits this aswell.

(this is totally not inspired by my previous rs)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Suddenly remembered something I wanted to say re:Akechi, because I think it's really core to his character (at least the way I interpreted him?) and I feel like it explains a lot of his contradictions. Essentially, he is incapable of seeing himself as just a person - he's either the greatest hero/detective ever, or he's some violent monster, and it's like there's no in-between. It's very in keeping with his obvious superiority-inferiority complex, but it goes deeper than that too; when he's in a role, it seems like his self-perception kind of changes too depending on how he is perceived by others. He really does get a confidence boost from being the Detective Prince. He really does shut down emotionally as the Black Mask.

They're masks that he's made, and it's not that aspects of them aren't based in truth to some extent, but I think it goes to show why he's not actually that fantastic a liar (imo, I found the outright lies pretty obvious), but he is a very good actor. He's either an angel or a demon, and never a person, but there are conditions to that. He is an angel when he is perfect - to society. He is a demon when he is vengeful - again, to society. He is never a person, because he never was seen as one - to society. He was disregarded. To be anything of value or notoriety, whether that's hero or villain, he has to be wildly more or less than who he actually is, and he's been building these masks up for so long that I really think he lost sight of the actual person behind it all. And I don't think he wanted to see that person anyways, because that person "wasn't good enough" and I do think he'd rather be anything other than himself. That trickery, that deflection from the person within, in itself brings him pride and satisfaction. He wants to be loved and needed instead of being cast aside, but I also think that if he can't have that then he'd much rather be hated than never have mattered at all. He weaponizes his own loneliness - if he can't ever be accepted then he'll build his own pedestal apart from everyone else.

It's so fascinating too, because I just wonder how much of this he was consciously aware of pre, during, and post engine room. There's this recurring thing with him where he goes "I can only be myself" etc but I just want to shake him because, well, who is that, Akechi??? Or, who do you think that is? Do you actually have an answer? Is it predicated on your actual feelings or solely on your success at fooling everyone around you? Is there any part of you that you actually like that isn't based on a painstakingly constructed mask? Isn't it all mostly lies to deflect from the truth? Isn't it all founded mostly on truth, nonetheless?

It drives me insane. And I think this is a big reason why he breaks so hard in the engine room, because so much of his mask requires his "audience" to perform in a particular way. And here he is, and the Thieves have beaten him, so there goes the first mask, because he's no longer "perfect". He swings wildly into the ugliest sides of him, but this mask is broken too, amidst him vehemently and desperately denying that he has any other emotions than hatred and rage, or any other needs or desires than vengeance. And after that, it's just him. And they should reject him, right? That's what happens. He's not useful, he's not needed or perfect, his hands are stained with blood. But the Thieves, again, don't play the role he expects them to. They, despite everything, relate to him - because he is in fact very similar in a lot of ways and they acknowledge him as a person - not a hero, or idol, or villain, or tool, or unwanted child - but as a damaged teen like the rest of them. And he does not know what to do with that. His identity is intrinsically dependent on getting the right reactions from other people as a form of ingratiating himself - if he does not get that reciprocal reaction he's looking for, his act falters, and, I really do believe that so does his self-perception. That's why you see different aspects of him seep out when he's spending time with Joker, because Joker does not react the way he expects, and Akechi both does and does not like this, because it leaves him feeling both intrigued and vulnerable.

I do think this particular aspect of his character is something a lot of the Thieves don't fully grasp - certainly, I think Joker "I need the mask" Persona 5 understands to a degree, but the sheer degree of reliance and the level of pride attached to it is something that confuses him a little, I think, especially in Mementos Mission. I think the thief that comes closest is actually Morgana, who has a similar superiority-inferiority complex and a desperate need to be seen as competent and useful lest he be discarded. (This is a big part of why the rather lackluster writing with Morgana's arc frustrates me so much because I really do feel it was meant to be contrasted with Akechi's, but I digress.) Morgana is the one to make that emotional appeal to Akechi, which makes a degree of sense - Morgana struggled all along with finding a place in the world. His form leads others to underestimate him; he visually doesn't fit in. He's acting out the role of a chivalrous and cool phantom thief but is more pragmatic with how he views relationships, at least at first. He wants a place to belong where he is appreciated more than anything but his pride won't let him spit it out. Accepting that he belongs and that he is loved even if he really did have nothing of value to provide is a big part of the resolution of his arc. He tries to offer that learned lesson to Akechi in turn ("Follow your true feelings. Even if you think people hate you, or don't want you around-"), but Akechi just wasn't in the right space to listen. There's also an important distinction between the two - Morgana envies humans and looks up to them. Akechi envies humans and looks down on them. Morgana is perfectly happy once he is assured a place amongst the group, but Akechi see-saws wildly between wanting to belong and wanting to be a step above the rest and separating himself further. So while Morgana actually really did cut to the core of the issue, his appeal would never have worked at this point because a) Akechi's pride is dependent on him maintaining his solo act, and b) he just got outed as not actually hating Joker in front of seven other people including Joker himself lmao.

So, uh, sorry, Morgana. Points for trying.

[courtofparrots]

Luis Serra and his use of false bravado

I'm writing a fic right now that requires a pretty in-depth character analysis of Luis, and I wanted to talk about one of my favorite things about him, which is his use of false bravado to get out of sticky situations, and the expressiveness he displays in the moments in between.

We talk a lot about Leon's micro-expressions when he's trying to hide his feelings, which don't get me wrong, I LOVE to analyze, but Luis has such telling expressions as well, and we should talk about it! (I also saw some gifs of Luis's expressions being modded onto Leon and THAT got attention but... neither here nor there).

To me, it always looks like he's using an almost silly amount of swagger when he interacts with others to portray his confidence, and he barely ever lets that wall down. Unlike Leon and Ada, he's a civilian, but he jokes around and flirts every time he's in front of them, despite being in situations where he really should be behaving more like Ashley, like when he narrowly avoided being tortured to death and he's just like "nice, cigs"

We as the audience are only privy to his mask slips in 3 different types of situations, as far as I can tell:

When he feels like his luck is about to run out: he goes from acting confident to suddenly displaying a lot of fear on his face, while he wildly casts around for something to say to help him out. In both of these instances, he completely regains his bravado once he thinks he's safe again, i.e. when Ada saves him from the torturers, or when he realizes Ada knows who Leon is. This is also just kind of adorable. Watch the way his face falls when he realizes Ada is mad, and then the way he flounders when she points her gun at him.

2. When no one else is looking: This one stood out to me from the very beginning because he's actually still speaking with confidence as he explains that the plaga can be removed, but Leon and Ashley can't see his face, where he's clearly showing his trepidation, his guilt about them being infected, etc. and then notice how he goes right back to smiling and confident when he turns around to face them again.

3. When he feels concern for others: Luis is an extremely caring person, and one of the most common moments where he lets his mask slip is when someone else is in danger. Obviously the first thing that comes to mind is his reaction to the medicine being destroyed, but I also want to draw attention to the look on his face when Ada is in danger and she tells him to leave her. And I know I included him looking away from Leon and Mendez in a previous post but here's a higher quality gif so you can really get your heart broken by how scared he looks:

Anyways, I just love the little things that make up characters in this game. I also have analyses about Ada and Ashley that you'll probably get whether you want it or not because I love them, and their characterizations are so interesting.

[smoochkooks]

—chapter twenty: this hope is treacherous

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut

word count: 2.4k words summary: it is not a sign of maturity, to cling to someone’s drunken words so much. but for a while, you did.

previous || next

Jungkook [Thursday, May 3rd, 05:32 pm]

How did it go? Soojin says everything’s fine between you

Want to grab bulgogi on Saturday? Same place as usual

Jungkook [Saturday, May 5th, 01:05 am]

Is everything alright? You haven’t been answering my texts

Jungkook [Saturday, may 5th, 03:45 pm]

Can I call you?

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th, 9:33 am]

Are you sick? Do you need something? I can drop by later today after work

I’m worried

Why are you not responding????

YN?

You [Wednesday, May 9th 06:15 pm]

Jungkook, sorry I have been MIA this past few days. I needed some time to think and I decided I want to keep some distance between us from now on.

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  06:23 pm]

What are you talking about? I thought we were good.

Did Soojin say something to you?

You  [Wednesday, May 9th  06:25 pm]

No, nothing happened. Soojin accepted my apology and she decided to move on, as I think we all should.

It was solely my decision and I need you to respect it

One missed call from: Jungkook

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  06:26 pm]

You won’t even answer my calls?

Come on YN, this is ridiculous

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  08:15 pm]

Fine. I’ll respect your decision. Can I at least talk to you in person about it?

Please

“You’ve been staring at your phone for the past ten minutes, babe. Jungkook’s not going jump out of it, you can calm down for a sec.” Dahyun says from her place on your couch.

It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays for Dahyun are reserved for self-care, which often means trying out new face mask recipes she saw on TikTok. And since, as she stated a long time ago, “You’re my bestest friend, ever, ___” you are obligated to take part in it as well. If you refuse to participate, you should gear up for the Cheong Dahyun’s wrath.

That’s why you’re currently soaking your feet in a mixture of soap, bathing oils and a secret ingredient Dahyun doesn’t want to disclose, with a hydrating sheet mask on your face.

You lock your phone and throw it to the other side of the couch. “I should probably just ignore him completely.”

Dahyun rips off her sheet mask in a way too dramatic manner and turns to look at you. “And let that she-devil win? Fuck, no!” she blurts out.

You snort. “She-devil?”

“I would call her the b-word but I’m trying to cut down on derogatory terms when referring to women, even those who deserve to be called that,” she explains, massaging her neck with the sheet mask’s oily residue. “Anyway, I think you should tell Jungkook the truth. She’s manipulating both you and him!”

“If a say a word to Jungkook, she’s going to write a post on her social media and not only expose me, but also accuse of having an affair with him.” you reason.

“Just tell Jungkook she’s threatening you. He’s going to see right-through her bullshit, leave her alone and be with you,” Dahyun shrugs like your predicament isn’t complex at all, and motions for you to take your feet out of the water. She tosses you a white towel and hands an opaque container. “Now put that onto your feet. Girls on TikTok are saying they will feel like heaven. And smell like lavender too!”

You scoop the cream onto your nail and sigh. “It’s not that easy. She is his wife and he loves her, of course he will take her side. He might not even believe me,” you say. Your eyebrows involuntarily rise, inhaling the cream’s scent. “It does smell like lavender.”

Dahyun makes ‘I told you so’ face before replying, “You’ve got twenty years of friendship on her.”

 “And unrequited crush, and a whole book about it.” you point out.

“I forgot how complicated your life has become these days,” Dahyun says, shaking her head. “So what? You’re just going to give up? Ignore his messages, calls, don’t answer the door when he’s on the other side, hide in the bush when you’ll  randomly see him on the street and only contact him once a year for his birthday?” she asks.

Initially, your plan was to wait a few weeks after your confrontation with Soojin and eventually things would get back to normal, slowly and steadily. You’re used to being on stand-by, after all. But that was before you actually met up with her to talk. Before she’s threatened to reveal your biggest secret to the whole world. Variété would never grant you another book deal after such scandal. You would be ruined for good and blacklisted by every single publishing company in this country. You can’t risk your career like that. Not now, not when you’re already working on your new book and this time you decided to release it under your real name.

You think about your parents. What would they think about their daughter? Surely they would feel disappointed. Lastly, you think about Jungkook. If you let Soojin get away with her threats, you might lose Jungkook for good. And that would slowly kill you.

“Okay, fine. I will try to talk to him about it.” you finally decide.

Dahyun claps her hands. “I knew it! Gosh, You’re down bad for this man, aren’t you?” she asks, grinning.

“Stop teasing me or I’m going to cancel our next self-care Wednesday.”

She gasps. “You wouldn’t. I have gua-sha massages planned for that day.”

“Try me!”

You [Wednesday, May 9th 11:08 pm]

Okay. We can talk in person

Jungkook  [Wednesday, May 9th 11:09 pm]

I’m visiting Busan this weekend. Soojin has a business trip so I’ll be alone

Would you like to go with me?

You [Wednesday, May 9th 11:12 pm]

Busan is fine by me. I missed my parents

I will take the train though.

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th 11:13 pm]

See you there

“There she is! My lovely daughter!”

It’s the first thing you hear after getting off the train at the railway station in Busan. Your mum hugs you tight and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Your dad couldn’t leave work earlier today so I’m picking you up instead,” She puts her hands on your shoulders and eyes you carefully. The smile she was wearing just seconds ago leaves her face. “I can tell you haven’t been eating well! What have I told you? You need to eat or you won’t have any energy!”

There it is. The world could be on fire and your mom would still worry about you not eating enough. Twenty-something years have gone by, and she’s still relentlessly reminding you to do so.

You roll your eyes, as you always do. “What did you make for dinner, then?” you ask, opening the car’s trunk and putting your bag there.

Your mom’s mood instantly lights up. “Chicken soup and jajangmyeon, your favorite,” she answers and starts the engine. “By the way, Jungkookie is also at his parents’, he arrived yesterday. Why haven’t you come with him?”

“I had a meeting at the publishing company that I couldn’t postpone,” you lie. “I’m meeting him later today, though.”

“I can’t believe my daughter is going to be a published author so-hey, you idiot! Who gave you a driving license?!” she yells. The young driver raises his hand in apology and your mom huffs. “It’s always the young ones! Anyway, do you know that Jungkook never visits his parents with that wife of his? I’ve only seen her once, during their engagement party for the whole family. You know which one, they did a big barbecue in the backyard. She seemed nice then, but a bit too standoffish, don’t you think? She comes from money, right?”

“Yeah, her parents own a company in Seoul that distributes vegetables and fruits all over the country. They also export, I think.” you reply, staring at the busy streets of Busan. You would probably rather talk about sex with your mom than discuss Jungkook’s marriage life, but your mom is a busy-body and loves gossip too much to let that slide.

To say the last, Soojin’s father is a big name in the industry. Jungkook told you once that he had to attend a dinner with Soojin and her parents, hosted by the minister of agriculture. You remember how much Jungkook worried he might not fit in the family. Soojin grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, attending private schools and going on vacations overseas. The summer after they officially had started dating, Jungkook worked two jobs so he could afford to go to Thailand with her. What was a standard for Soojin, was a hard-earned commodity for Jungkook.

Your mom whistles. “No wonder she doesn’t like coming here to Busan. Too posh for that, ha! And especially now, with two extra people in the house. Oh, ___, they are such cute babies! Everyone is head over heels for them.” she says, beaming.

You smile to yourself. Junghyun, Jungkook’s older brother, got married four years before him to his high school sweetheart and few months ago she got birth to twins. Knowing Jungkook, he’s probably spoiling them with presents every time he visits.

And speaking of the devil, you notice his car immediately as your mom pulls up to your driveway. With a heavy sigh, you brace yourself for what’s to come.

Four years ago, Junghyun’s wedding party

“So, my dear brother, when am I going to dance at your wedding?”

Junghyun was clearly drunk, his speech slurred as he wrapped his hands around Jungkook’s shoulders and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek. You giggled, positively buzzed yourself.

“I’m twenty-one and I just got back from the military. Let me live a little.” Jungkook grumbled and shoved his older brother away.

Really, it had been a little over two months now. His hair had grown into a nice length, the buzzcut long gone. He had gotten more buff, his dress shirt holding for dear life in some places. He’s matured, no longer a nineteen-year-old who had just finished high school but a grown adult.

Truth to be told, you missed him terribly.

Junghyun sat next to Jungkook, opened yet another soju bottle and poured a shot for each one of you. “To my beautiful wife Mina. I love you, honey!” he shouted and downed the alcohol. You could see Mina from across the room shaking her head with a soft smile playing on her lips. You grew up watching them fall for each other more and more with every passing day. If soulmates existed, Mina and Junghyun were definitely destined to be together.

“What about that birdie you’re dating now, huh? Sodam or something? Huh?” Junghyun asked, poking Jungkook in the ribs teasingly.

Jungkook’s already flushed cheeks, reddened ever more. “Her name’s Soojin and we are not dating. We went on one date,” he said sternly. “Besides, she’s out of my league. Her parents are super rich. Do you know she’s been to Paris this summer? She probably doesn’t know how cup noodles taste like!”

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing, then.” Junghyun shrugged his shoulders. He poured himself another shot of soju and looked at you, then at his younger brother, his face weirdly serious all of a sudden. “You know what I think?” he asked.

“I haven’t gained the ability to read your thoughts yet, hyung.”

Junghyun smacked Jungkook’s head. “Aish, who taught you to speak like that to your hyung?” You knew that, from the way Jungkook was biting his lips to refrain from laughing, that he wanted so badly to answer: “You did!”, but he decided to let Junghyun continue his drunken monologue. “I think that you and ___ will end up together one day.”

You tried to conceal your surprised expression with a chuckle. “Me and Jungkook? Please, I wouldn’t stand his ass.”

“Hey!”

Junghyun shook his head. “I’m serious. Best relationships, the ones that last years and years, are made out of friendship. Your partner should be your best friend! Look at our parents! Look at me and Mina! We’ve been friends throughout the whole middle school, tiptoeing around each other before one us decided to finally make a move. And now we’re married.” he said, his gaze longingly fixated on his wife. You dared to glance at Jungkook, thinking you’d find him amused by his brother��s drunken speech, but he was looking at Junghyun, not a hint of smile on his lips. “I think that it might take you a while to get there but eventually, I’ll dance at your wedding. And I’ll be really, really happy to do so.”

It is not a sign of maturity, to cling to someone’s drunken words so much. But for a while, you did. You replayed that moment over and over again in your head. You thought about Jungkook, his stoic expression while listening to his older brother. How he did not protest. How maybe, he could too imagine that happening. But then he went on another date with Soojin, and another. Started working extra hours to afford her lifestyle. Years gone by, and for some unknown reason, you still hold that memory close to your broken heart. 

[taeyongdoyoung]

point of view

summary: you sneak into your ex-boyfriend's ship with the desperate hope to save your Jedi friends. but you discover more than you bargained for... pairing: seonghwa x reader x chan genre: space opera, romance (?), science fiction, fantasy warnings: morally grey characters, mentions of past crimes (unspecified but we're talking Anakin Skywalker level of crimes), betrayal, cheating (?), kissing, crying, just overall Star Wars setting with no clear-cut boundaries between good and evil author's note: the events are loosely based on certain scenes in Revenge of the Sith and the title is inspired by Ariana Grande's pov word count: 2.3k

The lightsaber glows brighter as you near your destination. All along, you knew it was a bad idea to infiltrate Darth Mars's ship all by yourself. But you have no choice. If you do not confront him yourself, you are afraid that your Jedi friends will be in danger.

Considering your history with Darth Mars, a small part of you still believes that you hold some kind of power over him. He is the one who taught you everything you know now about being a Jedi. He is the one who taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself and how to look after the ones you care about.

So, when he turned to the Dark Side, it was not only your heart that was broken, but also your trust. In him and in everything he stood for. He was the chosen one, for Force's sake...You have to admit, you miss him more than anything. You miss the man he used to be. You even miss your past self. The one who was not haunted by the consequences of his betrayal. The one who still had hopes for a better future for the Galaxy.

"Very foolish of you to come alone," Darth Mars, or should you say, Seonghwa, says, appearing from the shadows.

Bravely, you point the lightsaber at him.

"I taught you better than that," he scoffs.

"Have you?" you attempt to taunt him, because you know your fighting skills are nowhere near his supreme excellency. You can only use your mind and your tongue as a weapon.

"Did you come here to kill me?" Seonghwa chuckles lightly. "Go ahead, then. I don't intend to fight you, of all people."

"I have no intention of killing you."

"Pity. I was beginning to grow tired of it all. Even so, it wouldn't be in your style to kill me while I was defenseless. It wouldn't be honourable," Seonghwa spits the last word out as if it's dirty.

"What do you know about honour? You betrayed us, turning to the Dark Side. And for what? More power? What did you do that for? You left us, Hwa!"

"That's not my name," Seonghwa shakes his head in denial, still hiding beneath that mask. You feel so sad. You wish you could make him see...See how much he hurt you. See you.

You let go of your lightsaber, pulling his mask off.

Oh. His face is not like you remember. Filled with scars and burns and so much pain, as if reflecting the way he changed. Not just on the inside but on the outside, as well. No, you refuse to believe that. Some part of him is still your Seonghwa, the one you fell in love with. The one, that despite everything, you still love.

"Who did this to you?" you ask softly.

"Who do you think? My Master..."

"No, Chan would never...He loved you," you argue.

Chan is the Jedi who taught Seonghwa everything. Just like how Seonghwa taught you, the relationship between Master and Padawan is so special and sacred. But you cannot imagine that Chan would do something like that to Seonghwa.

"Fine, I did it to myself," Seonghwa shrugs. "We had a fight over our...differences. Things escalated and...well, let's just say a planet filled with lava is not a good place for exchanging blows."

You shake your head, still in desbelief. How could this go so far? How did you let it?

"Don't beat yourself up," Seonghwa grins darkly. "This would have happened with or without you."

"I never looked at Chan that way, you know? Not while I was with you, anyway."

"But you do now," Seonghwa states. Not really blaming you, just stating a fact.

"I do," you admit. "But I never stopped thinking about you."

"Not even after everything I did?" Seonghwa murmurs and is that...regret in his voice? You are unsure if he's still capable of that. Or any feeling for that matter.

"Not even then," you sigh.

"Why did you come here, Y/N?" Seonghwa needs to know.

"I came to beg you not to kill my Jedi friends. Leave Chan and the others alone. I would do anything you want. Just let them be."

"Would you stay with me?" Seonghwa tilts his head and in that moment, it's like you're back to when it all started. Deep down, he's still just a boy, desperate to be loved.

"I said anything, didn't I?" you insist. If this means never seeing your Jedi friends again, so be it. At least, they would be safe...Or that's how you delude yourself.

"Very well, then. I won't touch them provided that you don't go back on your word," Seonghwa promises.

You cannot believe it worked. You cannot believe he still cares about you enough to accept this. You never found out why he turned to the Dark Side. Seonghwa was never one to be blindly tempted by power. No, there must have been something else.

"If you wanted to be with me so badly, why did you betray us, then?" you can't go another second without knowing.

"What's the use in telling you?" Seonghwa replies sadly, turning away from you. No, no, he's shutting himself off again. Just as he was beginning to open up...

You grab his wrist as if possessed, forcing him to face you again.

"Please, tell me. I want to understand you," you plead with him.

"You died. You died in my arms and accepting the Sith way was the only way to bring you back to life. If there was another solution, I wouldn't have done this, I wouldn't have left."

"W-what?" you are shaking, not capable of accepting the truth. "I was d-dead?! How did I not know that? How did nobody know?"

"Chan knew," Seonghwa grunts angrily and puts on his mask again. "He insisted on hiding the truth from you. He was certain that if you found out, you'd follow me to the Dark Side...And he couldn't let that happen. Said you have too much potential as a Jedi."

No, no, this can't be right. Truths and lies become blurred in your head as you struggle to decide what to think. Who to trust? Seonghwa? Chan? Yourself? You cannot tell what is real and what is false anymore.

"You don't believe me," Seonghwa guesses correctly. "That's alright. You can ask Chan yourself," Seonghwa tilts his chin forward, as if pointing to something, someone behind you.

In that moment, a bunch of Stormtroopers lead Chan into the room.

"What should we do with this intruder, Lord Mars?" the Stormtroopers ask.

"Leave him here with my other prisoner. I shall question them myself," Seonghwa replies, appearing disinterested. Oh, so you're a prisoner now? Even though you voluntarily offered to stay with him provided that your Jedi friends are safe. You feel so foolish all of a sudden.

The Stormtroopers accept Seonghwa's orders rightaway, leaving the the three of you alone.

"I'll give you two a moment," Seonghwa shrugs carelessly, locking you in the same room with Chan.

For a brief second, you wonder if he did the wise thing. But then you remember, getting on his ship was easy. Getting out? Sounds like an impossible ordeal.

"Chan, what are you doing here?" you ask furiously.

"What does it look like?" Chan replies. "I'm here to rescue you."

"Yeah, and how is that working out for you?" you hiss bitterly. "Now, we're both stuck here instead of just me."

"Did you seriously think I'd let you face him alone?"

"I told you I can handle myself!" you argue passionately. "You always do this. You don't trust me, do you?"

"It's not you I don't trust, it's him around you," Chan cries out in pain.

"Well, I'm not sure I can trust you anymore," you confess.

Chan shrieks back, as if stricken by your words.

"Is it true that I died? Is it true that you knew I died and you kept it a secret from me?" you want to know.

"Listen, I don't know what lies Seonghwa told you but he would have turned to the Dark Side with or without you."

"Funny, I never mentioned that's the reason he went all Sith. You just confirmed it yourself."

Chan gulps nervously, realizing his own mistake.

"How could you, Chan?" you shake your head in disappointment. "I thought you'd never lie to me."

"I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" your eyes widen in disbelief. "From what exactly? 'Cause it seems to me that Seonghwa was the one protecting me."

"And it was wrong! He committed all these terrible crimes just to bring you back. He turned on all his Jedi friends. He turned on me!"

"So, you're saying you'd rather I stayed dead? Is that it?"

"Don't twist my words," Chan closes his eyes, pained to have this conversation.

"You have done that yourself," you murmur, feeling tired all of a sudden and go to the door, knocking as loudly as you can. "I can't stay in the same room with the other prisoner!"

Expecting the Stormtroopers to show up and move you somewhere else, you are taken aback when Seonghwa...well, he's currently looking more Darth Mars, opens the door himself.

"And here I thought I was doing you two lovebirds a favour," he jokes.

"Get me out of here," you respond angrily.

"You're in no position to be giving me orders, sweetheart," Seonghwa chuckles gently. You want to kill him. Or kiss him. You don't know anymore. Everything is so confusing. It hurts so much...

"Get me out of here, please?" you try again, knowing it will infuriate Chan. Oh, how he wishes it was him you were begging. To run away with him suddenly sounds even more imprudent than staying with a Sith Lord.

"Much better," Seonghwa acquiesces, takes you by the arm and leads you somewhere else.

"You'll regret this," Chan warns.

"You'll regret me more," you whisper.

To your further shock, Seonghwa takes you to his chambers. You are uncertain whether he trusts you that much or he's simply confident enough that you won't be able to try anything funny. To be completely honest with yourself, even if you did try something, you would never be able to defeat Seonghwa by yourself. Then again, examples of Padawans beating their Masters are not unheard of...But you are definitely not ready for such a confrontation. Not yet, anyhow.

Not only did you learn that Seonghwa turned to the Dark Side in order to save your life, but you also just discovered that Chan kept that a secret from you. And if Chan knew, then there was a huge chance other Jedi also found out the truth. Chan was never good at keeping secrets from the Jedi. But he seems to be great at lying to you. Thus, everything you ever believed in is put into question. What is right or wrong? What is true or false? What is good or bad? These notions seem so ridiculous to you now that you have no clue what you intend to do next. You can only hope that Seonghwa's sacrifice wasn't in vain. You can only hope to live long enough to find answers for yourself.

"He told you the truth, didn't he?" Seonghwa makes yet another correct guess.

"I tricked him into it," you smirk, somewhat proud of yourself.

"That's my girl," Seonghwa nudges your shoulder playfully.

"What do I do now?" you burst into tears, burying your head in his chest. "Everything I believed in is in shambles. I don't even know if I wanna be a Jedi anymore."

"That's alright. You can always join me."

"Join the Dark Side?" you eye him suspiciously.

"Dark, Light...isn't it all the same?" Seonghwa tilts his head to the side. You hate it, but he has a point.

"Do I even have a choice? You said I'm your prisoner..."

"There's always a choice," Seonghwa insists. "And maybe I'm your prisoner. Did you ever think about that?"

You take off his mask again. He looks away, as if embarrassed.

"Don't hide from me," you beg, placing a hand on his scarred cheek, making him look at you.

"I know I'm not as pretty I used to be..."

"Well, then it's a good thing I didn't fall for your pretty. I like your ugly, too. Wish you could see yourself from my point of view," you insist and kiss him, trying to convey all the mixed up feelings you're experiencing.

Maybe he saved you. Maybe he destroyed himself in the process. Maybe he has the power to destroy you, too. You don't care. Right or wrong, this is where you belong now.

"What do you want me to do with Chan?" Seonghwa asks after a while.

"Are you seriously saying you'd do whatever I asked of you?" you are still shocked to learn how much power you have over him...He may have full control of the Force, but right now, you have full control of him.

"Within limits," Seonghwa replies vaguely.

"Let him live," you reply cleverly. Despite everything that went down, you still care about Chan. Just as how you care about Seonghwa. Your feelings might be irrational. But they're yours. "He might be useful to you one day. Who knows? He might learn to see things from where we stand."

"We? And where would that be?"

"Like you said, Dark, Light...What difference does it make?" you smile at him.

"Hm. I knew you'd get it," Seonghwa embraces you, thinking you're joining his so-called Dark Side.

But there is no such thing. You're on your own side now. And after being lied to and betrayed to by those you considered your closest people, you realize the most important thing. In this Galaxy, you can only trust yourself.

And one day, just like how Seonghwa became stronger than his Master Chan, you are certain you will become stronger than Seonghwa. They both underestimate your power.

It will be their final mistake.

The End

[rikebe]

couple of ladybug redesigns ive been doodling while stark raving mad about how this show for little kids doesnt have more badass outfits for the characters. i basically take a crack at these every couple of months but this is the first time im really pleased w what i came up with!

i def wanna come back to these and tweak them or come up with more designs for the other characters. and i esp wanna do a hawk moth chloe..........

long winded explanation of my design concepts unser the cut

ladybug - this is kind of my brain process here. her canon design (the worst one in the show imo) just kinda looks like a polkadot onesie so i really wantes to give her more bug-like features. i gave her black eyes bc i think its really cool when miraculiur holders change eye colours to something unnatural and i think its pretty neat and comicbook-y, and also insect-like. i also gave her bug-wing hairclips and changed her pigtails to twin buns so they had more of a shape contrast to the clips. for all wing details i added turquoise as a third colour to give it some SPICE.

my first designs (1-4) went off the idea of a short dress/coat with puff sleeves to suggest the shape of bug-legs, and the coat tails serving as her wings. i think its a cute design that fits marinette's girly style, but i wasn't quite happy with it.

i had the idea of her sleeves serving as her wings instead of her skirt or coat tails, and looked a little into chinese styles of clothing with big sleeves like this to lean more into marinette being half-chinese. i found a style called hanyuansu, which is modern clothes modified with hanfu elements and took inspiration from looking at a few outfits, so i tried a couple different takes. i really like design 6 with the big coat, but it seems really impractical for crime fighting :/ maybe its like a formalwear alt look lol.

7 is my final design that i'm happiest with, as it has all the elements i wanted but is still simple enough to not feel overloaded. i made the yoyo black for a little contrast and just bc i think it looks really cool!

queen bee - chloe was robbed of a character arc and a cool design. i will avenge her.

this ddsign came to me muchhh easier. a beehive hairdo seemed like a no-brainer, as well as fur trims both because she's a bee and because she's a bougie rich girl. i wanted the look to scream elegance and be a little retro and 60ies-inspired to go with her hairdo. the shape and tights are like a cute minidress married to a fur coat meets bee stinger, which is the vibe i want! the gloves are full chic and also sort of like black insect legs.

again a light blue wing detail for a pop of contrast and just because wings are fucking cool, and it gave me an excuse for 60ies inspired blue eyeshadow! yellow eyes cause i love weird eye colours, and it just looks a little creepy and jaundiced hehe

no mask because everyone knows its's her anyways, so why bother? plus masks are sort of annoying to design around lol. i kept her feelers because theyre really cute!

queen bee x butterfly - ive wanted chloe to become the new hawk moth since the concept was teased. well now my heart is broken forever, but i can still dream!! so this is like, an au where she has a full epic villain arc, keeps the bee and also gets the butterfly miraculous and becomes the new big bad!

i kept a lot of thw elements from the queen bee design but modified them. the dress changes shape into something less like a stinger and more like a chic mini winter coat to match the giant fur trim she has now! obviously huge moth wings are a must, and more of a staff than hawk moth's cane because, hey. she's royalty.

her queen bee feelers change to fuzzy moth ones, and the colours are a little different to match better with purple! plus a butterfly mask now, and white eyes with solid yellow irises to diffirenciate her from.......

hawk moth - who is a fashion designer and should really have a better look!

i gave him solid white eyes to make him look less human and goofy, and again for that cool comic-booky look.

i based the whole design on wanting his silouette to mimic thw butterfly miraculous, so i kept and exaggerated his canon lapels and added two pointy coat tails for the bottom of the wings.

the long coat is a bit more dramatique and less basic, and i tried to give his mask a little flourish to keep him from looking so much like a silver thumb.

the only place i kept the silver is for the vest, which is segmented to imitatw to look of a butterfly or moth's belly. i spent the least amount of time on this one but i'm pretty happy with it for a rougher draft than the other three designs.

[pluckyredhead]

Okay but I am fascinated by Orion and Scott's relationship.

Because for Orion, there must be so much guilt, right? He got to grow up in Heaven because Scott grew up in Hell. Highfather Omelased Scott so that Orion could have a childhood frolicking in rolling green pastures with Lightray and sleeping in a bed made of unicorn farts.

But at the same time I feel like there's also some resentment. Because Scott had the unhappy childhood...so why is Orion the unhappy adult? Why is Scott the well-adjusted one?

(Is Scott actually well-adjusted? He's very good at pretending he is. And I don't think it's entirely a mask. I think Scott is genuinely a pretty lighthearted, upbeat person, and that's part of what saved him from being broken on Apokolips before he could escape. But it's also a defense mechanism. He's a performer by nature and by trade.

I also think he's a deeply avoidant person. Unpleasant feelings? Uncomfortable conversations? Oh no, Scott is going to escape right the fuck out of that! So even though he absolutely is deeply traumatized by his upbringing - King's Mister Miracle was not the first time Scott has canonically had suicidal impulses - he is simply Not Going To Deal With It.

And this is a mask Orion is completely unequipped to see through. No one on New Genesis is familiar with the concept of "not saying exactly what you mean and how you feel literally all the time." I think Orion might be misread as stoic sometimes but he is super not! He literally just says how he feels all the time always! He's never lied even one single time in his life except for how on Earth he goes by O'Ryan instead of Orion! He has no ability to unpack "This person is pretending to be totally okay but actually they're only somewhat okay." Orion has never been somewhat anything.)

So yes anyway I feel like Orion is a little jealous and resentful that...somehow Scott still landed in a better place than him, for certain definitions of "better"? He's happy, he's well-adjusted, he has friends, he has a loving and functional marriage. Meanwhile Orion is having regular rage blackouts on a flying scooter.

But then he feels guilty again because how can he resent Scott after what he took from him? (Not that Orion had any choice in or even real knowledge of the Pact, but if you think Orion is going to let himself off the hook because he was a traumatized bald child when it happened, you don't know Orion.)

The other interesting thing is that even though Scott seems like the affectionate people person, it's Orion who makes all the overtures. Orion is the one who consistently refers to Scott as his brother (Scott's a little all over the map on this one). Orion wishes out loud that they were closer. Lonely, lonely Orion, who has absolutely no one in the universe who understands the tortured duality of his nature ("I am two worlds - like New Genesis, and that demon's pit - Apokolips! - One drifting forever in the shadow of the other - "), longs to hang with the one guy who might get it.

Whereas Scott...well, Scott's harder to read because he doesn't make a speech every time he has an emotion. He doesn't ever display any hostility towards Orion (King's MM run aside, which...yes, please, let's put it aside forever), but he also rarely demonstrates the same interest in building a relationship. His most loving gesture was pretending to be injured one time so that Orion would have to go fight Darkseid in order to lay flowers on a mass grave in Scott's place (it did actually make Orion feel better, so there's that).

I don't think Scott blames Orion, intellectually. I think he blames Highfather, as he should. (Not getting into whether Highfather ultimately made the right choice, just saying that Orion didn't get a choice at all.) And I think Scott is VERY VERY UNCOMFORTABLE with blaming Highfather, because it means he really has to think about what happened to him. In general, I think being around both Highfather and (to a lesser extent) Orion raises a lot of extremely uncomfortable thoughts and feelings and very painful memories, and so he just...escapes. He avoids being around them completely. It's very telling that Scott lives on Earth by choice and almost every time we see him on New Genesis, he's longing to leave. Being on New Genesis makes it impossible to avoid the Bad Thoughts.

So yeah, as much as I want to see these two having adventures together and hugging it out on the daily, I don't know that they can ever have the closeness Orion wants. (And god, can you imagine how much he would beat himself up if he knew that his desire for closeness was hurting Scott? It would be delicious.) But one of the reasons I love Simonson's Orion is that they find roundabout ways to show caring with the limited vocabulary they have, and maybe that's the best we can hope for.

[dekusleftsock]

MMMMM OKAY OKAY OKAY

I’m surprised no one has talked about how interesting Izuku breaking his mask is???????? Like oh my god?????

He even comments on the fact that it’s probably useless to wear in a scene like this, since he only put it on previously to shield his face from the waves while fighting and running away from Himiko.

In fact, I could even compare this to another Himiko scene altogether!

Himiko’s broken mask.

It’s a metaphorical mask, but honestly, so is Izuku’s. In this chapter (and previous chapters, obviously) Izuku is hiding from the fact that he has… deeper than desirable feelings for Katsuki that makes him violent and hateful. He does not want to be violent or hateful, but currently, he is at such an awful state of mind (due to Katsuki’s death and then reawakening, and also partly the state of his friends and colleagues) that he can’t help doing so.

That hate and violence cannot be stuffed down deep in his bones like usual, oh no, his quirk elicits a PHYSICAL reaction. But he didn’t have a quirk before, how could he really know that this would happen? It’s like walking through daily life as a teenager, and then in your early adulthood being hit by an extreme anxiety disorder or other health conditions. With no real reason, it just happened one day! Other people have dealt with this before sure, but they had several years throughout their adolescence to figure it out, how to cope with it. And just like it’s said in the manga, it’s like everyone else is running far ahead, and you’re just starting to crawl.

And that’s what the mask is (fuck you dream 🫶🫶🤭) really for. It protects Izuku on a very emotional level. The mask is broken, chipping, dirty—yet he wears it anyway because it’s the only way he can really smile like allmight. Just like allmight found his mask, he also found his smile. It’s also probably why his first reaction to having a quirk stolen (while also strategical) is to hide hide hide in blackwhip. A bubble that hides him from Shigaraki, from Katsuki, from everyone who could see his face.

And comparing this to toga, hello?? Her masking metaphor is about MASKING AS A HETEROSEXUAL GIRL, and her breaking that mask makes her a deviant, an outcast! And here Izuku is, doing the exact same thing.

Shigaraki has danger sense now, by all means, the table has flipped—Shigaraki now knows that Izuku wants to hurt him. Izuku wants to destroy him. Danger sense doesn’t work on just anyone, it has to be coming from a place of malice (because Himiko doesn’t affect danger sense), and an urge for violence. Very Himiko trait.

AND IZUKU KNOWS THIS, HES BERATING HIMSELF, INDIRECTLY ONCE MORE—saying that he has this useless power (similar to how he berated the fish when he was mad at Katsuki in chapter 1), comments on how the mask is broken and that allmight found him that mask, and he even holds this disappointed look on his face.

THIS is the weight I was talking about. This. The berating, the indirect hatred, because Izuku hates. He hates people and things just like Shigaraki does. That’s why danger sense was the only power shigaraki should have taken, it’s the literal power to feel who is loving and who is hating.

AND OF COURSE WE HAVE THE THROWBACK CHAPTER TO 342 OH MY GOD

The fact that Izuku has to say, “you’re a person”, ITS SO DAMN BEAUTIFUL YALL IM DEAD

Oh also! Izuku having matching blood falling over the other half of his face is just too fitting.

To me, with this whole chapter, Izuku and Katsuki, the parallels Katsuki had to ochako last chapter (the falling on the ground, passing out because “it’s getting cold”), it’s just given me a lot to think about.

And I’ve thought and paced and I really really hope I can describe what I’ve been thinking.

Pikahlua (or however their name is spelled, sorry!) translated the text on top of ochako as “Im still not sure what was obvious to that person”. These are the rough translations which is good to keep in mind, but there’s a few ideas I’ve had floating around from that line.

I went back and read 342, Ochako is ofc looking out into the city, calling herself an oddball, even saying she feels like she doesn’t know anything about Toga; if, and this is a big if, but… if this is Izuku thinking about Ochako, then that makes this line far more interesting.

What was obvious to her? A couple of possibilities—possibly understanding that she doesn’t really know Himiko, maybe it’s the fact that Ochako is so openly ready to accept Himiko (unlike Izuku for shigaraki, though this doesn’t apply to Katsuki. Showing Izuku is capable of feeling long term resentment for someone who wronged him, so long as that person doesn’t just wrong him, izuku), or maybe, it was the fact that she was so openly ready to say that she was weird, an oddball (a queer trope for coding characters, “she’s just so weird about that girl”, “I feel like I don’t really fit in”, or “I feel like the way I think of this same sex character—regardless of contextual status such as being a villain or an arch enemy—is wrong, and I should be condemned.”)

Though this could also be Ochako talking about Himiko that wasn’t directly said/shown in that scene, “I’m still not sure what was so obvious to Himiko about me.” (Though personally I find this harder to believe since this isn’t a panel directly taken from the chapter, rather a redraw from Izuku’s perspective. The drawing even makes her look taller than Izuku, which is interesting. Maybe he thinks that she’s better than him, morally)

And if we take Izuku’s comment of “You’re a person” then that furthers my belief that these are thoughts ABOUT ochako. Maybe the “obviousness” was the seeing the villain as a person. She EVEN TELLS HIM that she was thinking of Himiko during her speech about how Izuku is still human to the civilians. Maybe that speech was never about Ochako to Izuku, maybe it was ALWAYS ABOUT HIMIKO.

And ntm, this is another case of Izuku projecting onto someone else; not only is this a declaration to Shigaraki, “You’re still a person (that’s why I know I’m going to save you)!” But it’s also a declaration to himself, a motivator, a reminder that Ochako made to him during her speech, in Katsuki’s apology, and from allmight during his vigilante arc.

“You’re still a person (Izuku).”

The same declaration he made to the fish in the first chapter, to Shoto during the sports festival, and to Katsuki during dvk1.

“I matter.”

And it’s this that truly makes all of this so ironic—izuku speaking for himself, projecting onto shigaraki… honestly they feel the same way about hero society. The only reason Izuku can and does relate to Shigaraki is that he also feels cast away, no adults to reach out to as a kid, therefore making decisions on morality and bias that he mostly made on his own. Not only that, but Izuku has been the boy that was not seen as human. He has been the one to be isolated and shamed for being dirty and looking like a villain.

That’s honestly probably why he agreed with Ochako at all—he saw the little boy Shigaraki once was in ofa yes, but he’s also been an isolated and dehumanized teenager at UA. What if what Izuku was thanking Ochako for wasn’t actually standing up to the people and the speech she gave to him, but that she was able to truly open his eyes, see the bigger picture. Save Shigaraki.

Do I think shigaraki and dekus relationship and ideas of relatability are vastly different from togachako AND dabi + shoto ideas? Yes. Extremely so. Shoto and Ochako don’t and never really did hate Himiko or Touya. Obviously, to an extent Izuku does. Ntm, Shoto and Ochako brought up their conversations about their respective villains on their own, professing their insecurities and doubts, unlike Izuku who only expresses that he relates to them.

Maybe this anger and hatred came more recently, after seeing Katsuki’s death, but I have a feeling it more has to do with a built up grudge of Shigaraki targeting Katsuki.

Regardless of all of this, I see something bigger; when Izuku breaks his mask, he smiles. Genuinely smiles. Not his bright allmight smile, but he smiles regardless on that last page. It hurts and it takes a lot of power to push it, but it happens anyway.

This is the first time I’ve seen Izuku happy, or at the very least motivated, since seeing Katsuki dead. Even when Katsuki woke up, he still looks heart broken.

But the mask is gone. He’s free. Just like Himiko was free, so is Izuku.

And I thought for just a second that he would cover himself up another way, but he didn’t. He got up and he said “You’re still human” And smiled at him like the badass he is (yes I can compliment him, I promise. He’s my favorite character for a reason, I also just wanna kick him in the balls 24/7 for being so dumb).

And what did Himiko do when the mask broke?

She gave in.

She was free.

She let the world know, “this is who I am, take it or leave it.”

And I know, in my heart, that this is what Izuku will do too.

Yk how I mentioned earlier that this was a parallel to this?

I mean that, down to the fact that Ochako is calling Himiko by her first name.

Will Izuku try to give his life to Katsuki? I doubt it, he can’t do much in the medical sense.

However, do I see a shared moment similar to this? Maybe.

Okay all I’m saying is that it’s undeniably canon atp. Like I’m gonna wait for some kind of confession or kiss (bc yes I still believe that will happen, I am in that camp and you couldn’t drag me out unless I was cold and dead on the ground), but Himiko literally says she loves Ochako multiple times, INCLUDING is 395, so like. Idk what else you want. It’s this. We did it. Horikoshi you bastard.

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Star crossed

Aeron Bracken x Blackwood!OC

𝔖𝔬 ℑ 𝔰𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔚𝔢 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔢𝔱, '𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔢'𝔯𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔨𝔫𝔢𝔴. ~ 𝔗𝔞𝔶𝔩𝔬𝔯 𝔖𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔱 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶

Description: At a masked Harvest Banquet held by Lord Tully at Riverrun, Aeron Bracken falls in love with a beautiful girl with golden hair. With nothing but the broken ruby necklace she left behind as a clue to her identity, Aeron searches for the girl only to find she is a Blackwood. Can true love triumph over the mutual enmity between their houses?

Disclaimer: I wrote this as a sort of companion to the Beauty and the Beast inspired Benji oneshot I did. It's based on a mix of Cinderella and Romeo and Juliet instead. Not that happy with how it turned out but decided to post it anyway. Fair warning it's very lengthy, I accidentally went quite plot heavy and this writer can never just get to the point your honour. This has no connection with my Aeron x Reader series Jump then Fall.

Warnings: Violence, Blood, swearing, negative associations with bastards (OC has dubious heritage), Black Aly's daughter, female OC, angst, fluff. Love at first sight vibes based on R+J and Cinderella. Incredibly self-indulgent, I just love Romeo and Juliet as a concept.

Once a year the liege lords of the seven kingdoms would host a Harvest Banquet to bring their vassals together. For most noble houses it was one of the most anticipated events in the year, an evening of festivities and an opportunity to gain favour with their liege Lord. In the Riverlands, it was a different story altogether and Aeron was dreading it. Every Harvest Banquet held at Riverrun inevitably descended into chaos, perilous as it was to have Blackwoods and Brackens in such close proximity. Lord Tully had ever been weak and unable to control the two warring houses, and the tensions between them would often dissolve into violence. Aeron was already filled with trepidation as he stepped into the carriage that would take him and his uncle, Lord Amos Bracken, to Riverrun. His uncle's next words only solved to bolster his feeling of unease.

"Nephew, I have never denied you your more scholarly interests, never reproached you although I would have preferred you to have taken an equal interest in your sworsdsmanship."

Aeron blanched at that. He had been recently knighted by his Lord Uncle and yet had only begun to take a true interest in swordplay. He spent much of his time in the expansive library at Stone Hedge, enraptured by the histories of the Targaryen dynasty. His uncle had never understood Aeron's interest in the House of the Dragon, he could surely spend his time concerned with his own House and lands instead?

"Nonetheless, I should like to see you take a wife who will fill the place of Lady Bracken once you come into your inheritance."

Aeron's mouth fell open, speechless, and he was sure he resembled the fish head sigil of House Tully.

"Uncle, I hardly think..."

Lord Bracken interrupted him before he could protest. "There will be many ladies at the banquet, from across the Riverlands and the Seven Kingdoms. It is a great chance for you to find a lady that should suit you. You may make your choice yourself, but grant me this: that you will concede to your uncle to try."

Aeron found the very real possibility of a brawl with Blackwood kinsmen far more appealing and much less frightening than what his uncle was suggesting. He had only a little experience talking with the ladies who would attend his uncle's feasts at Stone Hedge and up until now he'd spent most of Lord Tully's banquets making merry with his friends.

Nonetheless, his uncle had indeed never denied Aeron his interests and had enough faith in him to knight him. He found he could not deny his request outright.

"I will try."

Amos smiled in response and affectionately patted Aeron's shoulder at his acquiescence. A jolt from the carriage as it ran over uneven ground had Aeron's head snapping up to see they were almost at the moat of Rivverun Castle. Aeron adjusted his mask to get a better look at the castle, Lord Tully having decided to hold a masked banquet in accordance with the customs of Kings Landing this year. It was like something out of a folk tale, ensconced as it was on all sides by the Red Fork. Even set in darkness by the cloak of night, lit only by the glow of the moon and torchlight, he could not help but marvel at it as if he were seeing it for the first time.

Upon entering the Great Hall, Aeron took little time in finding his friends, and fellow knights, by the long banquet table which stretched the length of the room.

Quickly pulled into their conversation, he found himself forgetting his Lord Uncle's request entirely. Minstrels soon took up their instruments, and lords and ladies took to the centre of the hall to dance.

Aeron had only cast his eyes ascance over the dancing couples for a moment, but instantly found his eyes drawn to a girl with golden hair that seemed to glitter under the soft glow of the candle light, as if she were herself made from burnished gold. The sound of the minstrels' song, the chattering of lords and ladies, all seemed to fade into the background as Aeron observed the lady's graceful movements, her burgundy dress fanning around her as she twirled.

"Who is the lady whose gentle touch does grace the hand of that knight yonder?"

Jon and Samwell turned to look in the direction of his gaze. "I could not say, even without the mask I have never seen a girl with hair that shade at one of these banquets. Perhaps she hails from another kingdom entirely" Samwell shrugged. Aeron barely heard him.

"Any intimations I have had of beauty, forswear them all. She does teach the stars to shine in their celestial abode above the starry Sept. No, fire to burn and consume for starlight is too cold a light for her. She is golden sunlight that scorches."

Jon snorted. "My good man, what has come over you?  I fear you've spent too much time reading poetry. If you think her so fair why not approach her for a dance?"

As the dance came to an end and he watched the golden lady curtsy to her partner, Jon pushed Aeron forward. His eyes subconsciously widened in alarm.

"No, I cannot. I'll only make a fool of myself." Aeron wanted more than anything to approach the lady, but felt certain there were other lords she would prefer than he.

Jon signed, exasperated. "If you will not, then I shall dance with her myself."

Aeron felt a wave of jealousy surge within his, his fists clenched slightly in anger at his friend as he watched him approach the lady, as he himself wished to. As the lady accepted Jon's hand to dance, his heart tightened in his chest and a sudden boldness came over him that had him handing Samwell his goblet and striding towards where they danced. When the golden lady turned away from Jon, as the danced required, Aeron took his chance before he could talk himself out it. Roughly pushing Jon aside, Aeron quickly took his place. This only seemed to amuse Jon, whose knowing smile as he exited the dance floor suggested he'd been hoping to spur his friend to action all along.

As the lady turned back to face him, he watched her eyes, a curious shade of blue that veered on violet, widen in surprise underneath her mask, which resembled a tawny owl.

"I am certain you are not the man I was just dancing with my lord."

Her voice was sweeter than any music Aeron had ever heard and he wanted nothing more than to hear her speak again.

"I apologise my lady, Ser Jon was...indisposed. I wish to take his place, if you will allow."

Swallowing down his nerves he offered her his hand to her palm up. The lady tentatively placed her hand upon his, palm to palm as they began to turn in a circle and resume the steps of the dance.

"I am most grateful for your chivalry, my Lord. I should have been mortified to find myself jilted in the middle of the dance." The lady's tone was teasing, her eyes glittering under the torch light, and Aeron felt his lips upturn in a smile, as he grew in confidence.

"It is no great act of chivalry on my part. I must confess that I am bidden here by your beauty, I could not but notice you from afar and wished to speak with you, if only to express this to you"

Aeron's confidence diminished as he watched the lady's mouth part and heard her small intake of breath. Fearful that he had made the lady uncomfortable, Aeron quickly stuttered out an apology

"Forgive me my brashness, my Lady, I fear the wine has gone to my head and I have spoken out of turn."

They briefly broke apart to weave between the adjacent couple, Aeron's mind racing until they came back together.

"There is nothing to forgive, I take no offence in the compliment. I am gladdened you think me beautiful." Aeron released the breath he'd been holding to know he had not offended the lady but felt his eyes widening in shock at her shy response and the delicate blush upon her cheeks. Did she not think herself beautiful?

"O you are fairer than fair and lovelier still." The words came unbidden from his lips before he could stop them. He had not meant to be so forward, but he found himself wanting to sing the lady's praises, should it please her. The teasing strain that had marked their conversation up until this point left her voice entirely as she looked up at him beneath her lashes, uttering a soft "Thank you", in earnest.

Aeron cleared his throat slightly, trying to diffuse his nerves. "Are you enjoying your evening, my Lady?"

"In truth I do not much enjoy banquets, I had much rather be reading or riding my horse Estella. Although I am happy to have finally seen Riverrun, it is a most impressive structure." she responded, almost sheepishly, to Aeron's surprise.

"I feel much the same, my Lady. May I ask what you most enjoy to read?"

Y/N's eyes lit up at his question, "I enjoy the histories the most, particularly those of the Targaryen dynasty."

Aeron grew more confident in the knowledge of their shared interest.

"I too have a particular interest in the Targaryens, my uncle does not understand it at all and I know he wishes me to remove my nose from my books. But is it not thrilling to read of dragon riders, to know that we walk amongst such God-like beings?"

As their dance came to an end, the golden lady grabbed Aeron's hand and started to pull him towards an inconspicuous door towards the other end of the hall. "Come with me." She said simply and he wordlessly followed, content at the feel of her smaller hand in his. He allowed himself to be pulled by the lady out of the door and along a series of corrdidors until they reached a long hallway, its walls covered in paintings.

Aeron had never ventured this far into Riverrun's halls before. "How did you come to find this, my Lady?"

The golden lady dropped his hand and Aeron flexed his slightly at the loss of contact, already missing the feeling of her hand in his. "My mother had Oscar Tully show it to me before the banquet started, she knew I'd like to see it and I believe you might too."

Taking hold of his hand again, she pulled him towards the third painting on the Eastern side of the hall. Aeron found himself gazing at the girl next to him instead of the painting, as if he were trying to memorise her features and she were the painting, but quickly averted his eyes when he caught her gaze. The painting in front of him was of a knight bending the knee in obeisance to a kingly figure with pale blonde hair.

"They depict the histories of House Tully. This one shows Aegon the Conqueror naming Edmyn Tully Lord paramount of the Red Fork." Aeron did not know such objects, filled with precious knowledge, existed at Rivverun.

"I am gladdened you thought to show this to me, my Lady, I am yours to command. Direct me forthwith." The golden lady grinned up at him beneath her mask and pulled him from one painting to another, explaining little details on each. Aeron could not help but smile at her excitement all the while. Finally, she pulled him towards a painting he could not decipher as the lady next to to him began point out details to him. "It depicts the women's court held at Riverrun on behalf of Queen Alysanne Targaryen by her lady's maid, Jennis Templeton. Queen Alysanne herself was presiding over the Iron Throne in the King's absence. A true Queen."

Aeron smiled softly at her. "Queen Alysanne was a wise and capable consort. By the grace of the Seven, we should see such a partnership grace the Iron Throne again."

To his dismay, the lady's face fell and she gripped the gold chain of her Ruby necklace, her knuckles turning white. He could not think what in his words had offended her but before he could offer her his apologies for any misunderstanding, a horn sounded faintly in the distance. The noble families must have been preparing to leave, the light of the moon suggesting that it was the hour of the eel. Time had slipped away from Aeron. With a look of alarm, the lady took hold of her skirts and, with parting "farewell my lord", she rushed down the hall whence they'd come. The chain of her necklace broke and as it fell to the floor she briefly looked back at it with a mixture of sadness and indecision, before abandoning it entirely.

Frozen to the spot in shock at the suddenness of her departure, it was only upon spotting the glittering of her ruby necklace on the floor that Aeron could force himself to move. Kneeling to collect the broken remnants, he quickly leapt up and broke into a run. He was determined to return her necklace to her, to make amends for any offence he might have caused, and to learn the name of the lady who'd ensnared his heart so quickly.

By the time he reached the Great Hall, she had disappeared entirely into the throng of lords and ladies now departing to return to their own hall He cursed himself for tarrying so long, for being such a floundering fool that he had not even asked the name of the lady. Wrenching his mask from his face in frustration, he looked down upon the broken necklace in his palm. Closing his palm over the cold surface of the ruby, a feeling of resolve came over him. Someone at the banquet would be able to identify the jewel or the lady herself. He would find the girl of burnished gold again.

Aeron searched far and wide for the mysterious lady, sending missives by raven to each House that had been in attendance at the Harvest Banquet, excluding the Blackwoods. But none could lay claim to the necklace he described or identify the Lady with the golden hair. It was as if she had never existed. Aeron was weary with frustration, leaning his cheek against the cold surface of his desk. A knock at the door of his chambers had him straightening up just in time for a herald to announce Ser Samwell and Ser Jon. He bolted out of his seat to greet them.

"Any news of my lady?" His hopeful expression fell as they both shook their heads. "I fear she cannot or does not want to be found. What does your uncle say of this...obsession of yours Aeron?"

Aeron rolled his eyes, "I think he finds the whole affair amusing. He told me he was intrigued to see how it would play out."

Samwell snorted and Jon discretely elbowed him in the ribs. Aeron ignored their antics and tried to think of what else he could do when an idea came to him. Returning to his desk, he pulled the ruby necklace from a drawer and presented it to his friends. "I will bring the lady's necklace to all the jewellers in the Riverlands, one of them must be able to identify the owner. Failing that, I will extend my search to the Seven Kingdoms."

Eyes widening at the lengths Aeron was willing to go to find his golden lady, Jon nodded and turned to leave. "As you will it." Aeron quickly set to his task, making plans for when he would visit each jeweller. He would ride out from Stone Hedge on the morrow.

Aeron had already tried four other jewellers before he came to the one at Fairmarket, entering the establishment with no small amount of anxiety, aware it was frequented by both House Blackwood and House Bracken. "I wish to enquire as to the providence of this necklace. Do you recognise it?" Aeron could not help the hope that surged in him, even as it had been dashed at every turn. His heart began beating wildly as the jeweller began to nod with clear recognition upon his face. "I know it, it was my hands that crafted it. The necklace belongs to the Lady Daenara Blackwood, daughter of Lady Alysanne." Aeron felt as if the ground was collapsing out from under him. He had not even considered the possibility of his lady belonging to the House of his greatest enemies. Her features were not those associated with House Blackwood, not possessing the raven hair and dark eyes of her kinsmen. His mind spun, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions warring with each other until he came to the realisation that it did not matter. He had never met a lady like Daenara Blackwood, never found a person that felt so familiar and comfortable to him even upon first meeting, none so intelligent, none so beautiful. He found he could not extend his inherited hatred of her House to her, and came to a decision.

"How long would it take you to mend it?"

Three days later, the now mended ruby necklace in his tunic, Aeron reviewed the course of events that had led him to his current precarious position. A bead of sweat trailed down his brow as he heaved himself up by the vines on the lowest wall he could find as he had circled Raventree Hall. Swinging himself over the top of the wall he found that he was in a lush garden, likely no where near the household chambers and he began to think he'd been truly stupid in not thinking up a clearer plan. Would he now have to throw stones at every window and pray he found that of his Lady's instead of her cousin Benjicot's?

A glimmer of gold caught his eye between the arches of a wall that seemed to lead to a smaller, private garden and he thanked the Seven for bringing him to exactly where he needed to be, as if by fate. Beginning to climb down into the grounds, he lost his footing and unceremoniously fell to the ground, letting out a low grunt of pain. His Lady must have heard the kerfuffle, for she appeared between one of the arches of the wall separating them to see him sprawled in front of her.

Quickly jumping to his feet, he halted his movements as she took some hurried steps back, eager not to scare her away. He held his hands out placatingly.

"Please, I did not mean to frighten you, my Lady. Will you not stay a moment?"

Daenara's eyes fell upon his golden tunic and the red stallion blazing across it, the sigil of his House.

"You are a Bracken, how can I be sure you do not intend to harm me."

He took several tentative steps forward, prompting Daenera to move further into the garden, dissapearing behind the wall before reappearing in an arch further away from the door which must lead to her private garden.

"I assure you I have no ill intent and would never harm a lady." He followed her as she moved down the length of the wall, shooting him furtive glances. He thought desperately of how he could convey to her that he meant her no harm.

"It is death should they find you here." She had stopped moving away from him at least, enabling him to step right up to the arch she now peered at him through.

"I do not wish to quarrel with your kin, only to return what belongs to you and to speak with you. If it is your wish to bid me go once I have done so, then I shall leave at your will, I assure you." When Daenara gave no response, only looking up at him quizzically with furrowed brows, he continued.

"I came to return your necklace, I hope you will not take offence at my presumption but I had it mended. You looked saddened to see it break so I could not but guess at its significance for you."

He held the necklace out to her across the ledge of the arch, and she slowly raised her hand to take it, brushing her hand against his.

"I am most grateful to you, my Lord. This necklace is, indeed, of special importance to me. A gift from my mother and a symbol of my House, though I know that will not hold much import for you."

Ignoring the door he'd seen entirely, Aeron climbed through the arch, leaping over the wall, as Daenara stepped back to allow him entrance. He was relieved that she now seemed to understand he would not harm her. It pained him to think of it.

"I would not reproach you for loyalty to your House, which is most admirable."

Looking into his eyes with a startling focus as if trying to assess his sincerity, she seemed to find what she was looking for.

"May I request your assistance?"

She pulled her hair back from her neck and turned her back to allow him access. Hands trembling slightly with his nervousness at their proximity, he wrapped the necklace around her neck and closed the clasp of the necklace. His fingers lightly brushed against the graceful slope of her neck, her skin soft and delicate to the touch.

A blanket of golden hair brushed against his shoulders with their closeness as Daenara turned back round to face him, hand clasped around her necklace.

"You have divested yourself of your purpose for coming here, what will you do now?" A glimmer of something he could not place lit her eyes, and Aeron had to forcibly pull his eyes away from them to answer coherently.

"It is only half true that I have fulfilled my purpose in coming to you, my Lady. I wish to speak my intentions, should you permit it."

"What intentions could you have? Have you yourself not borne witness to the chasm that separates our Houses, the danger you now place yourself in just by being here?"

Taking a careful step toward her, their chests almost touching, Aeron lowered his head reverentially and spoke softly.

"The only danger I fear is that which lies within your power. It is you fair lady whose weapons I fear.

Daenara looked surprised at his answer but stepped closer still, having to crane her neck up to look into his eyes.

"I am not so dangerous as that. And to what weapons do you speak of?"

"I speak of your power to grant or deny me your favour. One word from you could dash all of my hopes and tear my heart asunder quicker and with greater pain than any dagger of your kinsmen."

A look of realisation began to dawn on her features, a blush to tint her cheeks before Aeron spoke again.

"Your wit, your warmth, and your beauty ensnared me from the first. I tried to remove you from my thoughts, I admit, upon learning you were a Blackwood, but it was as if I were tearing a constituent element from myself. Do I dare to hope you have thought of me also?"

"I have thought of you many times since that night. I thought you must be a Bracken when you spoke of the Seven and it frightened me, yet I could not bar my heart to you even as I fled from you."

Aeron place a hand lightly on her elbow, his head spinning at the thought of Daenara returning his feelings for her.

"I have searched for you since, my only clue your necklace, so auspiciously dropped. For without it I could not have found my way to you again."

Taking a few steps back from him, Daenera stopped Aeron from following with a hand to his chest.

"I fear I cannot grant you what you seek. My affections as a Blackwood are not meant for a Bracken to possess." 

"Your caution is wise, fairest of ladies, but you'll find that a match between our Houses is not without precedent. Queen Visenya Targaryen herself arranged for two matches between our houses to great success. And was not King Benedict Blackwood himself born of both our Houses?"

Daenara's eyes shot up to meet his, her face contorted in anger. "Do you draw the comparison purposefully, for none could be deceived or blinded by my appearance? I know I do not bear the features of my House."

Quickly realising his blunder, King Benedict famously being a bastard, he took hold of her hand in both of his, his expression penitent.

"Sweet Lady, I assure you I meant no offence, it was not my intent and I beg your forgiveness for my careless blunder. I will speak plainly to avoid any misunderstandings between us. I wish to court you and devote myself to winning your heart for mine own."

"You speak such pretty words, I can scarcely believe them to be in earnest."

"Forgive me if my tongue does run away with itself, I will desist should my words displease you. Only do not send me from your sight entirely. My admiration for you is true, my Lady."

"Daenara, you may call me Daenara."

Aeron's lips quirked up in a smile.

"Daenara. And you must call me Aeron." Daenara offered him a tentative smile that instilled him with the confidence to make his next request.

"Will you meet me on the border between our lands tomorrow? I only wish to talk with you and learn more about you, Daenara." That was an understatement. He wanted to know everything about her, her likes and dislikes, what hopes she held for the future.

"I will endeavour to meet you, though I cannot promise. It will not be easy to slip past Benjicot. My cousin is rather protective of me."

He gently took hold of her hand, his moments slow to allow Daenara time to reject his advance. When she did not, he grazed his lips across her knuckles, maintaining eye contact with her "I will wait for you."

Aeron could not repress his joy as he climbed back over the garden wall of Raventree Hall, barely paying any mind to the danger as he snuck back into Bracken lands. His heart soared at the thought of seeing Daenara again on the morrow.

The next day Aeron waited at the border between Bracken and Blackwood lands until he began to think Daenera would not come. The light tread of footsteps and the sound of satin shifting signalled her arrival and he beamed at her. "You came, my Lady." She smiled shyly back a him, "I promised I would try."

As Aeron took a step towards her, she raised a palm up to stop him. "I would not have you risk crossing into our lands again, it is a miracle you managed it unharmed last night. And I really ought not to cross into Bracken lands."

Aeron frowned then held out his hand to her, palm outstretched. "I will not cross the boundary line if it displease you. But we may walk along it side by side if we stay within our own lands may we not?" Taking his outstretched hand, Aeron quickly interlocked their fingers, his own cheeks surely blazing with heat at her acceptance as they began to walk alongside one another, a curious sight. Aeron found he did not care how unusual a pairing they made, simply content to speak with her again, to laugh with her, all the while feeling the comforting weight of her smaller hand in his, as she playfully began to swing their arms.

A sudden movement caught Aeron's eyes and he panicked at seeing Benjicot Blackwood, who would surely kill him should he find him so close with his cousin, at a distance. Realising he'd not yet spotted them he quickly pushed Daenara into a nearby bush on the Bracken side of the border. Swiftly bracing his hands on either side of her head to avoid crushing her under his weight he swept one hand over her head, tucking various strands of hair away from her face, looking over her frantically to determine if the fall had hurt her. "Aeron!" Daenara scolded him, unaware of what could have prompted his strange actions "My Lady, I apologise profusely. Are you hurt anywhere? I saw your cousin approaching overhill and panicked" the last he spoke sheepishly, waiting with baited breath for her to scold him.

To his surprise she smiled up at him affectionately and tangled her hand in his hair, laughing up at him. "It looks like I've crossed into Bracken lands after all, despite my best intentions." Aeron looked at her seriously, their faces so close his nose was almost brushing hers. "You will not come to any harm on my lands, not when I'm with you." Daenara made no answer, but when her eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips he boldly claimed hers with his own. Her hand tightened its hold on his hair to pull him closer to her and he moved his hand to cup her face. When they broke away for air he placed his forehead on hers before placing a tender kiss upon her head and standing, reaching down to pull her up with him and help her out of the bush. "I believe your cousin must have departed by now."

Aeron and Daenara continued to meet at the border, walking hand in hand along the boundary stones which divided their Houses, exchanging kisses and leaving letters for one another in secret, a bond of love growing between them each day.

Daenera stomped towards her meeting spot with Aeron, furiously brushing away tears of bitter betrayal from her eyes. Her mother, the Lady Alysanne Blackwood, had summoned her to her Chambers that morning, and by the time she'd left it felt like her entire reality had been pulled out from beneath her. Daenera was not naiive, she'd always known she was a bastard. She looked nothing like her kin, the only thing making it at all clear she was related to her cousin Benjicot was their shared loyalty and that they were quick to anger. But she had never pushed her mother for the truth of her parentage, thinking it must be a source of pain to her. But now, to find that after she had expressed her affinity with the House of the Dragon for so long, her mother had kept from her that she herself was forged in fire and blood, it was almost too much to bear. Her mother had explained that her father was the Prince Daemon Targaryen, making Daenera herself a Targaryen. It did explain her strangely coloured eyes and golden hair, surely the outcome of the Blackwood influence darkening the pale blonde hair of the Targaryens. But it hurt to hear her mother finally explain why she'd kept her from public festivities such as the Harvest Banquet, or any banquets outside of Raventree Hall for so long, for fear that her Targaryen ancestry should be discovered and make her a target. A fear Alysanne felt all the more keenly as the House of the Dragon had fallen into all out warfare, her own House and that of her love's declaring for different sides.

To make matters worse, her mother had made the truly aberrant suggestion to her to take a husband from their bannerman to further cement her place as a Blackwood, to give her hand to Ser Rickard of all people. He was brutish and vulgar, no matter how loyal he was to their House. But it was the suggestion she should continue to hide such an essential part of herself to avoid getting caught up in the Dance of the Dragons that cut her most deeply.

Aeron smiled upon spotting her but his face quickly fell as he rushed towards her, crossing into Blackwood territory to gently take hold of her elbows and search her face. "What has happened, my Love?"

She felt her throat close up with tears and let her head fall onto Aeron's chest, as he encircled one arm around her waist and one held her head against his chest to comfort her. After a while she pulled away from him, prepared to tell him all that had passed between her and her mother, all the while praying to her gods that it would not change his feelings towards her.

"My mother has informed me of my true parentage. She says that I was born of a brief affair with the Prince Daemon Targaryen, of all the possibilities. That I, myself, am a Targaryen. Worse, he does not know I was even born. I know my mother intended to protect me but it does not make her deception sting any less. To make matters worse, she wishes me to marry one of our bannermen and I don't know how to tell her my heart already belongs to another." Aeron had frozen in shock at her first admission, before realising that he must have known this truth about his lady somehow all along based on his first impression of her. And there were more pressing matters than gawping at her, she was looking to him for comfort, to help her fix this. And he'd be damned if any other man but him would marry the woman he loved, knowing she loved him too.

"My Love, I think I knew from the first moment I saw you that you were made of fire and I have ever been drawn to it. I do believe that fate brought us together in that knowledge. As to your betrothal, I will go to Raventree hence and plead for your hand if you should allow."

Daenara brought her hands to cup Aeron's face. Aeron hated seeing the sorrow adorning her pretty features. "My mother would never allow it, my kinsmen will surely kill you for even attempting it." Aeron took hold of Daenara's hands and pulled them to his heart, looking into her eyes. "I Love you, and I will risk a thousand swords to make you my wife if that is also your wish." In response, Daenara pulled Aeron down towards her by his tunic, molding her lips with his. They broke apart, both turning towards the sound of shouting "Get away from her Bracken."

"Gods, that's Ser Rickard, the man my mother wishes to marry me off to." If looks could kill, Aeron would be in his grave. But he steeled his courage, prepared to defend his lady and his love for her from Ser Rickard and the two other Blackwood Knights trailing him. He pulled Daenara behind him and sent a glare the knight's way, which only seemed to incense him further. "You dare to cross the border and accost a Blackwood, you craven bastard!"

Aeron bristled at his insinuation. "I would never impose myself on a lady without her consent, Ser."

"She belongs to House Blackwood and is to be my wife, I have her mother's permission. Remove your hands from her person."

Aeron took a step towards the knight, speaking through gritted teeth. "From what I hear you do not have the lady's consent, and that is all that matters to me."

"You speak for her do you?"

"I would not dare. But I will not stand by idly as you lay claim to the lady as if she were some common cattle."

Not a moment after Aeron had spoken, Ser Rickard had forcefully shoved Aeron in the chest, pushing both Aeron and Daenara backwards. Shoving him again, Aeron just barely managed to stay standing, looking behind him to check Daenara was unharmed as she'd been holding onto his arm. But she had placed herself between the two in an attempt to stop any further violence from ensuing and time seemed to slow as Aeron watched in horror as a blow meant for him connected with Daenara's face, sending her falling to the ground.

Aeron immediately went to her, brushing hair away from her face, tenderly holding a hand to the side of her head to assess the damage. He felt his heart drop upon seeing a trickle of blood coming from a split in her lip. Her eyes were wide in shock as if she had not yet fully registered what had happened. Aeron had never had a proclivity for violence, but seeing Daenara harmed when he should of prevented it sent a surge of anger through him he had never felt before. He launched himself at Ser Rickard before the other Blackwood Knights could stop him, bringing him to the ground with the force of his assault. The brief moment of confusion lost, the Blackwood Knights forcibly pulled Aeron from Ser Rickard and he shrugged off their arms before kneeling back down next to Daenara, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright, my Love, are you in a great deal of pain?" Daenara held her jaw in one hand, clearly pained by it, and raised her hand to Aeron's face. "I am alright, it is not so awful."

A shout interrupted them as Benjicot appeared a few yards away, his face filled with rage. "Bracken!"

Aeron stood up to face him. Benjicot had briefly surveyed the situation and come to the conclusion that the brazen Bracken knight had laid hands upon his clearly injured cousin. "Did you strike my cousin? I'll kill you if you've harmed her."

Daenera rose from her position on the rough ground, dusting her skirts down, and placed a hand on Benjicot's chest. "He did not harm me cousin, but rather protected me from the one who did. You can take my injuries up with Ser Rickard once he picks himself up from the ground." She gestured briefly in the direction of the knight who was coughing and trying to recover his composure after Aeron's assault. Benjicot's breathing began to calm as he realised the truth of the situation, but he glared at Aeron nonetheless. "Benjicot please stop glaring at Aeron. You should know that I love him and intend to marry him." Benjicot took a sharp intake of breath, anger taking over his expression before he seemed to calm himself with a concerted effort, saying simply "I'll take you home cousin." Daenara nodded and took Benjicot's proferred arm, shooting Aeron an apologetic glance. But Aeron had already grabbed onto Benjicot's other arm to stop his movements. "I do not wish for the lady to be in any trouble because of her association with me."

Benjicot shrugged Aeron's hand off. "I care deeply for my cousin and I would not take issue with her even if she does have poor taste in men." With that Aeron watched Daenara and Benjicot walk the way of Raventree Hall before making his way back to Stone Hedge to speak with his Uncle.

Aeron was equal parts surprised and relieved that it took very little convincing on his part for his uncle to sanction his marriage to the Lady Daenera.

Aeron had anticipated an argument, reminding his uncle of the previous terms he'd set for Aeron securing a betrothal. "You told me I could make my own choice. I choose Daenera. I love her Uncle, and I have the good fortune that she loves me in turn." Lord Amos had only let out a short laugh at his nephew's insistence, never expecting him to make such an unexpected match but nevertheless offered him his support in securing Lady Alysanne's consent for the marriage at Raventree Hall the next day.

More curious still was Lady Alysanne's acceptance of the match on the basis that Benjicot Blackwood of all people had spoken up in his favour. Aeron decided to dispense with his confusion in favour of embracing his lady and capturing her lips with his, in the knowledge that they would soon be wed, despite all the odds set against them.

Lady Alysanne sent a raven to Dragonstone shortly after Aeron and Lord Bracken left Raventree, deciding that it was time for Daenara to have the chance to know her father. It took less than the turn of one moon for Daemon to arrive on dragonback, landing Caraxes not far from her halls, eager to meet with the daughter whose existence he'd had no idea of. Daenera had hardly known what to say or do and had curtsied tentatively towards him, addressing him in a timid voice "My Prince." Daemon wasted no time in embracing her, speaking into her hair "My daughter."

Daenera had never felt more sure of who she was, having spent so much of her life in the dark about her true heritage and always feeling a sense of loss she could never fully comprehend. The knowledge that Targaryen blood ran through her veins had enabled her to finally accept the fire that had always burned within her. She had been concerned as to how she would be received by Queen Rhaenyra as Daemon's bastard but the Queen had been unexpectedly welcoming and kind towards her, requesting that she come to Dragonstone along with her husband. Aeron's ready acceptance of her Targaryen parentage had only made her love him all the more. Daenera tried to channel her feelings of contentment into the Valyrian instructions her father had taught her, as she cautiously approached the dragon in front of her. "Lykiri Silverwing. Lykiri, dohaeris Silverwing" she repeated, one hand outstretched to the silver dragon's snout.

Silverwing huffed out fumes of smoke that warmed Daenera's hand, but the dragon did not stir as Daenera made her way along its length to the ladder which would allow Daenera to mount her. Looking back briefly at Aeron, who was gazing at her with a mixture of concern and awe, she turned back to the dragon with steely determination and began to climb up to the saddle, trying to focus on appearing fearless before the dragon she wished to claim. As she reached the top of the dragon's back and settled herself into the saddle she felt the bond between them fall into place, a bond so pure and so absolute she was sure it could never be broken. Taking hold of the reigns she spoke softly, knowing that Silverwing would obey her order now. "Soves."

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕰𝖓𝖉

Writer's note: if you made it this far you are an actual soldier, thank you so much for continuing till the end :) I've tagged everyone who liked my initial post introing this story, I hope that's OK.

@ithilwen-blackwood @twistytimesandthoughts @im-gonna-love-you-forever @momoko-world @houseofthedragonluver-blog @grandoli14 @bryandechartisasmolbean @theswreties

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[sombredancer]

Li Lun, a villain I feel for (Pt. 2/4)

So, by the beginning of the drama LL says that he wants to kill all of ZYZ’s new friends. In fact, he just likes talking. He says: “Let’s kill ZYZ’s friends starting with Baize Goddess, like the previous time” so the viewer thinks he killed previous goddess off, but later we learn that he didn't do it. Even if he has a perfect opportunity to kill someone of ZYZ’s new friends without ruining his own schemings, he does pretty nothing to achieve it. He just stands and talks. Because he doesn’t really want to kill anyone, including ZYZ. He wants to attract ZYZ’s attention and to make ZYZ stop ghosting him.

Li Lun speaks to Big Bad in Mask while possessing a courtesan. Meanwhile, he lends Truth Eye to Ao Ying so she could see his true self.

LL joins hands with Big Bad in Mask, not knowing he was the one who tortured demons in that bloody dungeon (yeah, LL is not the smartest guy of the Universe). By doing it he tries to achieve his own goals. First, he wants to break free from his custody, and second, he wants to get attention from ZYZ, who ignores him.

In order to break his chains LL works as matchmaker for ZYZ and his girlfriend, so they could fall in love with each other and find and unite pieces of Baize token, because only if the token is intact, it can be broken and its spells can be dissipated. He is not a saint, so he kills some folks (by possessing them or just because) and tricks other demons into helping him, although he is said to value his own kind more than anything. It means he goes through break-up with ZYZ so badly, that even his principles fade into the background for his anger and pain. Or it’s just another script flaw.

Li Lun behaves himself very much as a ghosted ex-boyfriend (in fact, he is), and I understand him well. He goes through stages of acceptance: throws himself from denial (ZYZ is no better than me, why don't you treat him the way he treated me?) through anger (ZYZ, I’ll kill your friends and make you suffer!) to bargaining (Why does he find you better than me? What if you would be like me, would he still love you?).

To talk about his feelings with someone, he uses the only way to leave his dark lifeless place of imprisonment, which is possessing others. At first, this ability and an omnipotence of it looks intimidating, but later we learn that he cuts his lifespan by a half each time he does it, so his need to talk to someone is very desperate. (Later, LL says that it was his way to enjoy the world and freedom but GJM never showed us such a use of this LL's ability). ZYZ knows that destroying LL’s leaves (through which he possesses bodies) will hurt Li Lun, yet he does it anyway, and LL kinda... enjoys it bitterly. As if the fact of him being not ignored by ZYZ is more important that his wellbeing. It's miserable and pathetic, but understandable.

And anytime LL tries to get some answers for his questions, ZYZ and his friends say something like “You don’t understand a thing, I won’t bother to explain, though.” or “We have friends and ZYZ is our boyfriend, and you are a lonely loser!”. How it supposes to help LL understand his wrongs? I have no idea.

Ghosting your ex is the sure way to make him a villain.

LL breaks free from his jail and destroys a “support beam” of the “wall” around demon ghetto. An accent on “I’m destroying the wall” is strange, because I can’t understand the gain demons will have when they aren't in their ghetto anymore (and it obviously should be). Would Great Demons even the scores of victims if not only humans would catch and torture demons but demons would also catch and torture humans, or what? However, it sounds pretty fair, as long as said Baize Goddess’ and ZYZ’s protection of demons consist in only preventing them from going outside their ghetto without passport, LOL.

Although LL is free from the seal, he is still dying from the fatal wound causing by ZYZ 8 years ago. His true body is smoldering slowly, so he has got not so much time left.

For plot purposes, the main heroes need to visit LL’s birthplace to get the last cup of magic water to fix Baize token and to restore a “support beam” of ghetto’s wall. What would a normal villain do, knowing about it? Yes, he would spill it. What does LL do? He, in fact, hands it over to the main heroes. Yes, stained, but LL was a student of Mountain God, too, so he could know that there is a way to restore the pureness of magic water, and the best way to destroy the token for good is to spill this water.

During their visit LL kidnaps ZYZ’s girlfriend (it is funny that the main heroes don’t notice it for something like first five minutes 😅) and has a phycologist session with her (in which she is a psychologist). They have a superstrange conversation, something like: LL: “ZYZ supposed to be my friend but ghosted me for no obvious for me reason and I’m hurt!”. WX: “Oh, it’s because you are a loser with no friends, ZYZ did everything right!”.

Then ZYZ and his current boyfriend come and LL tries once more to tell ZYZ that he is hurt, but ZYZ has absolutely no desire to talk to him or to explain to him something and acts like they were never boyfriends and LL is his archenemy.

So, they fight and ZYZ hurts LL with Everburning Wood once more, now deliberately. LL dies, and although ZYZ has red eyes at this moment he never thinks of LL again. So, LL is right: ZYZ is a hypocrite with double standards. It is such a contrast with the stories of the main heroes and ancient dragon gods, in which killing your friend for Higher Goals is a tragedy.

But there is a plot twist ahead!

Here is Part 1 Here is Part 3 Here is Part 4

[starsonablackboard]

a long-ass unstructured yappin about trod lambert because i really, really love them and i feel like they don't get enough recognition (maybe i just dont see it tho). (im not even putting the read more bar here, you're going with me even if you don't want to)

maybe it's my taste in characters (it's definitely it), but im much more fascinated by them than by narinder. and don't get me wrong, trod narinder is beautifully written, complex, interesting, and just plain fun to read. he's tall dark and handsome ™ emoboy (lovingly), he likes killing things but he also has a dream journal, is patient with kids and remembers that lamb likes red foods best. but you take one look at him and go "oh that cat has some baggage". and you take one look at lambert and go "oh, a goofy sheep". and then this sheep hits you with a moving truck.

like, what do i mean – narinder (im sorry for using you as an opposite example you're the second half of the pairing what can i do) is obviously complex. lambert is subtlety complex, moreover, they're deceivingly simple and they learned to hide their complexity very well. like we're 400k?? words in and we know pretty much nothing about them. their family? their father used to sing a song to them sometimes. what song? did it have lyrics? what situations was it for? how did their father's voice sound? next question. their long term goals, their fears, their nightmares? no. and we're in their pov half the time (and i know that this is intentional because sara has talked about this, about lambs tendencies to deflect and hide themselves behind masks).

i distinctly remember the moment i understood that i will love them as a character – it's when in earlier chapters (before 4th one im pretty sure) narinder hides an axe in his sleeves and lambert takes a look at him and goes "you don't cross your arms often. i don't think you yet realise that you're able to do it again. whatcha hiding in there?" and i was like. oh. they're smart. and im not saying it like i thought they weren't smart before that, im saying that it takes a certain type of attentiveness and skill to notice such small details and to put them together. and they drop that line with a smile and in a silly speaking manner ("watcha") that at that point annoys narinder to no end. yes, they're silly goofy and i love them for it, but this is barely the surface of what they're actually are. (oh and i also really like the fact that their unseriousness and light heartedness isn't a "fake personality", it's just one of the layers sides of their character)

in my native language we have this phrase that translates to "kindness should come with fists/kindness should have fists/whatever" (maybe there's a similar one in english but I've never heard of it) and i think it suits lambert incredibly much. they are kind, i would say radically kind at that. let's be honest the whole "enemies to friends" part of the fic exists and has any chance of existing only because lambert is continuously and stubbornly kind to narinder. he tries to kill them, they bring him food. he bashes their head into the altar, they make him clothes. he curses them again and again, they make sure he doesn't run out of candles. i once mentioned this part to my friend (that knows nothing about cotl and by extension trod but listens to my yapping anyway) and she said something along the lines of "he walks all over them but they continue to love and love and love" and i don't think that's it. lambert is incredibly, sometimes unreasonably kind (and selfishly, where the whole "why do you keep a murderer around" part comes in, but I'll talk about that later), but they have boundaries, their kindness, however generous and forgiving, has limits, and those limits are clear and hard once you reach them. they will never ever let anyone "walk all over" them, even if from the outside it looks like it, they know what they want and what they're willing to tolerate, and when those boundaries are broken they never hesitate to act.

circling back to the selfish kindness part. i love how forgiving bishops' isn't for bishops'sake. it's for theirs. they refuse to let the anger and resentment consume them (im pretty sure sara made a whole comic about this point specifically), they've seen what it does and they will not repeat the mistakes of gods that came before them. the sheer will to live and to live the best life you can in this is also so impressive and important to me – it's one thing to not let your god to sacrifice you, it's another to step your (rightful) anger on the throat no matter how hard it is because you know you won't be happy or even fully your own self if you don't. their mercy isn't a weakness, their kindness isn't an invitation to exploit them. almost all of the things lamber does they do for their own sake first and foremost (yes, even running themselves dry for their cult. they fully understand what they're doing and why – they want those under their care to prosper, and they're willing to do what it takes. the sacrifices they make are stemming from their want. it's different from exhausting yourself just because you were told so).

all this to say that i find them to be such a beautiful blend of things that are usually written as mutually exclusive. they're lighthearted and silly yet complex and smart. they're kind and forgiving yet selfish and incredibly able and willing to stand their ground. they're determined to make their own choices even if to outsiders those choices seem incredibly poor.

they're subversive at every step and they feel so alive and vivid because of that. i love them. thank you bamsara

[lovelytayforce]

since you're doing hcs

HCs for the 13 primes in 200 words or less so it's challenging 🫢

Bro thinks Imma FOLLOW THE RULES WHEN RULES ARE MEANT TO BE BROKEN Anyways, ladies and non binaries; let's get this show started!

I've actually written very small vignettes for the 13 for a RP for the people who are out of the loop, no they aren't published but maybe one day I can post em if someone asks nicely 😘 I'd have to explain the context of it all but basically I made this whole sim area based off of Elysia realm; that game mode left a lasting impact on me and it made sense for the Prime's to enter their wisdom as data that embody who they are when they are updated for wisdom is not given, it's earned through mistakes and strife in life. Anyways let's start from the top with my favorite of the Primes: Onyx Prime He doesn't get a lot of screentime which sucks cause he's like THE SHEPARD of the group: He should be guiding Optimus more than Alpha Trion does come on writers THATS HIS WHOLE THING LEADING! (IDW was Shockwave so that doesn't count) I need more of his friendly and kind hearted personality to shine in the main series so BADLY and like again I'm the Predacon addict; let him be my token PREDACON 😭 Anyways onto HCs - with his Triptych Mask; I often give him the aesthetic of opening doors to many places across the universe since he's so spiritually connected to nature and life as it is, he basically has a "Tunnel of light" that can not only guide him but the souls of dearly departed or maybe a lost living soul looking for a reason to keep going forward. - He wanted to live peacefully on Cybertron for a very long time but alas Cybertron wasn't the best place for predacons and maximals with their connection with nature and as transformers I feel he would gladly take the call to transform, adapt and evolve for the betterment of their people - Also, he smelt that functionism bs a mile away and decided to cut his losses while he could. His kids come first! - Can be considered the most motherly and emotionally aware of the group, he's got a good head on him which is why he's so well liked 💙 - He's best friends with predaking in all continuities idc they always find each other - Despite being apart of the Well of Allsparks, he has a physical form but it takes a lot of energy to stabilize so don't expect long talks at night. Onto my second favorite- Quintus Prime! Can I just mention how beautiful this design is? He's so pretty I love him 💙

I never really agreed with him being unimaginative considering he created life but I understood the perfectionist plights he held as for idealism, where his concepts really that unrealistic? I loved questioning that because despite his good intentions he made probably one of the worst species alive but it brings about a funny thing about life; you can't mold individuals with free will to your vision. One way or another this would have unfolded considering many would do anything to reach their god much less creator to understand their purpose in life. okay no more philosophy, lets move on to those hcs~ - After many of his failed attempts at making allies for Cybertronians he withheld himself in the land of his daydreams casting aside his perfectionist habits, he paints. He creates for the joy of it, for within a dream nothing can escape his control. It gives him time to think things out and truly understand how life exists and the beauty of nature that once puzzled him that his brother Onyx knew so well. It's a slow process but it opens this scientist's horizons beyond anything even primus could anticipate! You already know whose my next favorite is if you know me and my love for Transformers Cybertron and Armada those shows were my CHILDHOOD BRO Let's set the timer for Vector Prime! ⏰ YOU'LL ALWAYS BE ICONIC QUEEN THE FIRST PRIME I EVER STANNED OPTIMUS PRIME WHO /jk

I subscribe to the majority of his Ask Vector Prime answers which as follows: He's a fan of the dinobots He used to "boogie down" with a disco ball. Despite having traveled far and wide, he could not see why kids loved Cinnamon Toast Crunch. If he had to choose a beast mode, it would be a large sea mammal. Everyone he ever cares about will grow old and die in what, to him, is just the pulse of a spark. Sometimes, he feels alone even when he's in a crowd. His favorite human movie was Back to the Future, due to the performance of lead actor Eric Stoltz. He revealed himself as a Point One Percenter (after the Shroud).

Please read what this man talks about on tfwiki, he's a national treasure who brings me joy during my great depression. Anyways onto my own hcs 🥰

He's a stickler for being on time! Don't you dare be late! You're wasting his precious time!Vector Prime - The clock that always strikes on time!He's the first POP (Point One Percenter) and was the mold for many POP's in the future such as Skywarp As a being held by the constraints of time, even though he wants to save as many universes as he can, he simply cannot; he's stuck between a physical form and a form distorted by the whims of time and space what little control he has is simply a delicacy that must be treasured with the utmost care. He keeps small trinkets from his favorite universes and planets and leaves clocks around for the sole purpose of helping those looking for his helping hand. Also, I just think it'd be neat to find a giant clock and if you strike right for midnight he'll appear!!

The rest are in the reblogs. 👏🏽