#its the best way i can convey my emotions

[anto-pops]

Envy's Grip - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: There was no field guide on how to handle your best friend coming back to life. But in hindsight, maybe keeping it from your crime lord boyfriend wasn’t the best course of action. 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, miscommunication (kind of), a sprinkle of jealous Sylus (or as jealous as he can be, he knows he's fine)

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3

Sylus was perceptive. 

It wasn’t a new trait, by any means. He had always been annoyingly aware of everything. Sometimes it seemed like he knew your own thoughts before you voiced them– though he insisted you were just easy to read and that it had nothing to do with him using his Evol to his advantage. Now was one of those times where you could tell he was scrutinizing you from afar, having picked up on the influx of emotions that overwhelmed your mind and left your body tense. 

Caleb was alive. 

The revelation had left you breathless– utterly at a loss for words as you had stared at him standing before you whole and well. Well, almost whole. The mechanical arm had thrown you for a loop, but it was his eyes that had broken down the wall of doubt between the two of you. Those bright, violet irises silently conveyed a lifetime of emotion that told you then and there that somehow, someway, your childhood friend was back from the dead. 

How the hell were you supposed to go about your day after discovering something like that? 

When Sylus had asked you the day after what had you looking so dreary, you had waved off his concern with a lie. “There’s a mandatory work meeting next weekend. All my plans with Tara are ruined.” 

He had furrowed his brow at that statement, evidently confused as to why he hadn’t heard anything about your weekend plans up until that moment. You were terrible at lying, and it felt awful to do it– especially with Sylus. You had just prayed that he would overlook your nervous behavior and let you get away with it. 

That same day, Sylus’ eyes had narrowed during lunch while you’d chewed your own nails off in favor of the roast he had cooked for the two of you, but you had done your best to play off the anxious habit as something else work related. Then you had jumped– actually jumped– when he’d walked into the living room while you’d zoned out staring at a wall, his sudden presence jerking you back to the present with your heart hammering and your eyes wide. 

“You need to wear a bell,” was all you had said when he’d asked why you were so jumpy. His lips had pursed while he’d worked a muscle in his jaw, opting to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. 

Then there was right now; your form was sloppy, and your shoulder was aching from the lack of control you threw your punches with. The boxing bag hanging from the ceiling of Sylus’ home gym swayed towards you listlessly, the lack of power in your attacks barely causing the chain to rattle the way it normally would. Using your gloved hand, you halted the bag’s momentum, your chest heaving as you drew in deep, steadying breaths to ground yourself. The sweat that dripped down your temples chilled your otherwise heated skin, and you hastily wiped the moisture away using the back of your forearm before swallowing thickly. 

You were a mess.

As you turned to make your way to the edge of the ring for your water bottle, Sylus tracked your movements with predatory-like precision. He didn’t blink, didn’t shift from his spot against the wall. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. The floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the entirety of the gym clued you in on the dark expression that crossed his face the second you turned your back to him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the air vent overhead snaked its way down your spine. 

“How do I put this nicely…” Sylus’ deep, throaty timbre reverberated off the walls, and you did your best to ignore him as you brought your bottle to your lips. “The way you’re performing now, you’re on par to fight a toddler.” 

Prick. Water dribbled down your chin as you tightened the water cap and set the container down. “That’s what the practice ring is for. Practice. I’m not trying to show out.” 

“No, clearly you’re not. You’re trying to distract yourself.” 

Ever the discerning crime lord. “I’m working out, Sylus. Since when does that require perfect form?” Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at his reflection in the mirror. “More importantly, why are you just standing there watching? It’s weird.” 

He feigned disinterest by looking at his nails, a move that infuriated you as much as it intrigued you. Sylus always looked so effortlessly handsome. The sight of him posted up against the wall with his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest almost distracted you from the rampant thoughts about Caleb that had plagued your brain for the last two days. Almost. “You might be ‘practicing’, but you’re doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing your full potential. That stance is pathetic, and your punches couldn’t hurt a fly. To add insult to injury, you already know all of this.”

“And I really don’t care. Go find Kieran or Luke if you want to criticize someone, I’m not in the mood.”

Sylus went quiet behind you as you began unstrapping your gloves, and a few beats of silence passed before you lifted your gaze back to the mirror. He was staring at you intently, ruby red eyes flickering darkly and narrowing. It wasn’t exactly the expression he wore when he was angry– not when it still hid a sliver of possessive longing within his dark pupils. But even so, it was enough. You felt arousal curling hot in your gut at the sight, and Sylus’ eyes flicked up to your damp hair clinging to your forehead as a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Then what are you in the mood for?” Sylus purred the question, pushing off the wall to stalk over to the boxing platform. He shrugged off his jacket as he walked, tossing it haphazardly over the rope barrier before effortlessly hoisting himself up and stepping into the ring. “Want me to leave you alone? Completely? Back off and let you think about your long lost friend in peace?” 

Oh, shit. 

Your mouth fell open at the realization that he knew. How? When had he found out? Your mind whirred with the possibilities and your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin and imbuing you with an overwhelming sense of guilt. It had never been like that with Caleb, but did Sylus know that? Did he think the worst? How much of the impromptu reunion was he aware of? 

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He goaded you further, prowling towards you without an ounce of hesitation. You held up your palms towards him as though to stop him, but he captured your smaller hands in his larger ones and threaded your fingers together, pulling you against his chest with a throaty chuckle devoid of any humor. “Did you really think I didn’t know why you’ve been so out of it lately?” 

“Sylus, I–” you stopped yourself, indignant anger taking root as you realized he had somehow invaded your privacy. “Did you follow me? You ass! How do you even know about that?”

He ignored your pointed line of questioning and pressed on with his brows furrowed. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you have kept quiet and silently debated on whether or not rushing back to his side is a good plan?”

“What? Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you spied on me!” 

“I was in the city on business. Nothing special, but I wanted to stop by to see you once I was done. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the park with him on the way to my meeting.” 

You tsk’d in annoyance, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “Business. It’s always business with you. Why does it matter that I didn’t immediately run to you to fess up about my friend not being dead?” 

“Because you lied to me.” The way he growled the blatant fact made your retort die in your throat. The anger that had burned hot in your veins cooled instantly, and you blanched as Sylus continued icily. “Taking your time to process it? That I can understand. But you looked me right in my eyes and came up with some half-assed excuse about work. You didn’t trust me with this, even though we agreed we would always be honest with one another.” 

You stammered, “Sylus, wait– I wasn’t–” 

He let go of one of your hands to capture your chin in his firm grip, forcing your eyes to meet his as he stared down at you. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting, and the angle left you wholly at his mercy as he slipped his other hand around your back to hold you flush to him. “You weren’t what? Keeping secrets? Giving me unwarranted attitude?”

“None of this is your business!” You jerked your head out of his hold and wedged your hands between the two of you, shoving him away so abruptly that the tiniest grunt escaped his lips. Your eyes were frantic as you exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have left– I just– dammit! Just give me a minute here!”

He gave you ten seconds of uninterrupted silence. The tense kind that set your teeth on edge and made your skin crawl. Then you looked back at him, shocked to discover an icy cool expression painted across his sharp features. The unyielding wall that had existed between you both when you’d first met had been reconstructed in record time, the lack of warmth in his eyes speaking volumes of how he really felt. 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Hunter.” 

When he turned his back to you and started towards the ropes, your heart nearly gave out as your stomach plummeted into your feet. He couldn’t walk away from this– not after he had implied the worst without letting you explain. You had no clue how he even knew about Caleb, but clearly Sylus assumed your relationship with him was something more, and it scared you to think that your lover doubted you. Worse, that he doubted himself. 

Your body acted of its own accord, carrying you forward fast enough that you were able to coil your fingers around Sylus’ thick wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn’t turn to look at you. On instinct, you darted around him so you were standing before him, then rose up onto the tips of your toes so you could crush your lips to his. 

Sylus’ reaction was slow; he inhaled sharply before his hands slowly came to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as an animalistic growl resonated from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to you, blindly leading you towards the edge of the ring until you felt your back press against the ropes, and Sylus used the newfound barrier to his advantage and rolled his hips against yours while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. It was equal parts suffocating and exhilarating. Your every sense was overtaken by him– his heady scent, the muscular feeling of him, the guttural sounds he made as he devoured you. 

Sylus’ lips trailed away from yours to mouth wetly at your jaw, and your head fell back as a raspy moan escaped you when he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him was tangible through his dress pants, and the thin pair of leggings you wore did little to deter the feeling. Your hands drifted down his toned biceps and along his taut stomach before your fingers curled tellingly over his belt buckle. The tug you gave the leather material was ardent, your desires taking over your better judgement. Rational thinking had suggested you talk things out with Sylus like adults. To speak to him about loyalty and remind him that he had nothing to worry about as far as Caleb was concerned. 

But bringing up Caleb right now was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Fucking like adults might also do the trick. 

An airy whimper sounded from you as Sylus roughly brushed your hands away from his belt, taking control of the situation and yanking your sweat-soaked t-shirt over your head. Your sports-bra went next, and the peaks of your breasts pebbled in response to the cold air surrounding you. When you blinked up at the man through hazy eyes, his own orbs were dark and hooded, and the way he licked his lips made you want to kiss him again badly. You weren’t far gone enough to think you deserved it yet, though– not even when Sylus leaned forward to start mouthing down your throat, his tongue trailing against your sweat-slick skin as he descended lower and lower. 

Just when you thought Sylus would end up on his knees in front of you, he was back to his full height. He wasted little time taking you by the hips and assertively guiding you down to the floor of the boxing ring. Dazed, you blinked up at the white haired man, staring at him long enough to catch sight of the strained expression he hid behind his calm facade. It almost looked like he was pained. It confused you, but questioning it wasn’t possible once Sylus shuffled down to settle between your legs. 

You felt his blunt nails scrape against your hip bones as he tugged your panties and leggings away, tossing both of them aside before laying flat between your bent knees. He wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t talking with you the way he normally would when the two of you were intimate. In fact, there wasn’t anything that was intimate about this aside from you being fully exposed to him. There he was, fully clothed between your legs and inches away from your womanhood, and yet not a lick of warmth emanated from him. 

Suddenly, your morose thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Sylus licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, your breath catching as the man took care to add a sinful amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you managed to wheeze, your hands flying to Sylus’ soft locs as he wrapped his lips around your clit, then sucked hard enough that your back arched off the floor. Another rough moan escaped you as Sylus splayed his fingers against the underside of your thigh and dug his nails into the tender flesh there. He did the same with your other leg, and the bruising strength he held your legs apart with was something that enticed you as much as it confused you. 

Make no mistake: rough sex with Sylus was always phenomenal, and it was most definitely something you enjoyed partaking in. But there was a missing puzzle piece here– something irregular that had your heart weighing heavy in your chest as you gazed breathlessly to the ceiling. 

You wished Sylus would say something. He hadn’t since you had grabbed for him just minutes prior, nor had he let you undress him like you’d wanted to. The disappointing memory of him crudely swatting your hands away from his belt returned to you then and imbued you with a lingering sense of remorse. Shit, you would settle for him just looking at you by this point. Anything other than the cold, rigid version of your lover before you now. 

Unbeknownst to your internal turmoil, Sylus sat back on his haunches and slid his hands to your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach and allowing for him to manhandle your legs apart. Part of you wanted to protest against the position, but then you felt your lover begin to mouth hotly down your spine and press chaste kisses to your warm skin, and your inhibitions started to melt. It was the first real show of Sylus’ softer side. The gentle press of his index finger against your entrance further derailed your train of thought, and as Sylus slowly breached your fluttering walls with the digit, you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft moan.  

The tenderness left you shaking– trembling–  for more. 

As Sylus started to pump his finger slowly, he took care to remain incredibly attentive to the way you wriggled and keened for more, your face half-buried in the crook of your arm. His free hand came to rub soothing circles against your hip as he gingerly added a second finger to join the first, and the tantalizing stretch had you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. “F-Fuck, Sylus,” you mumbled, the words muffled slightly by your own arm pressed against your lips. 

You felt Sylus lean forward, his warm breath fanning across your ear as he asked, “Does it feel good?” 

You rocked your hips back onto the fingers easing you open, nodding and gasping breathlessly as the crime lord pressed against your inner walls incessantly in search of that one spot he knew would reduce you to a babbling mess. It didn’t take long for him to find it. Before long, Sylus slid his fingers deeper and curled them up, and the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through you caused you to mewl your lover's name loudly. 

Taking your reactions as his cue, Sylus proceeded to work you with his fingers faster, brushing the pads of his digits over that magical spot within you every time without fail. The overwhelming sensations left your body quaking as fiery hot arousal coursed through your veins, the beginnings of your climax festering in your gut. As blissful as it was, you had no desire to end things like this; on your knees and with your back to Sylus while he used his damn hands to undo you. 

Blearily, you pushed yourself up with your arms, craning your head around to stare at the man through your lashes. “C-Come on, Sylus,” you implored him weakly. “Please?” 

Sylus met your gaze for the briefest of moments, his eyes dancing away before you could get a good look at him. He mercifully withdrew his fingers, trailing the appendages against your inner thighs and inducing a wave of goosebumps along your skin, then sat back to begin removing his clothing. It was methodical– swift, even. All you could do was watch in the reflection of the mirror as Sylus stripped himself bare without your aid, tossing his clothes off to the side of the boxing ring before returning to his kneeled position behind you. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair dejectedly, accepting that Sylus’ colder nature was your own fault. How could you blame him? Beyond keeping the truth about Caleb from him, you had pushed him away when he’d tried to get close to you. It didn’t look good for you, and you found yourself lowering yourself back to the ground with your face buried in the crook of your arm. Whether you were hiding from Sylus or your own embarrassment, you didn’t know. 

As Sylus lined himself up with your wet entrance, the tiniest sigh escaped him when the blunt head of his cock rubbed softly against you. His firm, warm hands settled on your hips as he asked, “Ready?” 

You could sass him, or rush him along, or just generally be an ass to him in response to him being so closed off, but you didn’t. The air between the two of you was different than it was before, even though Sylus was keeping all his sweetness to himself. You told yourself that you didn’t deserve it anyways and nodded shakily. 

At your confirmation, Sylus sighed and squeezed your hips, then began to sink his thick, perfect cock deep inside of you with slow, gentle thrusts. You gasped and hid your face in your arms, rocking back onto the larger man as you muffled needy little noises against your skin. When Sylus bottomed out, he moaned and ran his hands up your sides, over your ribs, so gentle and so fucking nice that you kind of wished he would just rail you through the floor of the ring. How amazingly soft he was being while distancing himself was making your chest ache. 

It didn’t last long, thankfully. When Sylus gave an experimental roll of his hips and found you more than a little eager for his cock, he groaned and pulled back farther before ramming his dick into you, and the way you cried out for it covered the throaty moan that had escaped his lips. The crime lord set the pace just like that; hard and fast, impaling you and wringing gasping cries out of you easily. The arch of your back let Sylus’ cock slide along your sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the feeling had your eyes fucking crossing. 

It was too good. Your thoughts were crashing, noisy moans sounding from you freely. You were entirely sure you were drooling all over the padding of the ring’s floor, but you didn’t really care when Sylus was fucking you so thoroughly. The fingers digging into your hips pulled you back hard even as Sylus pounded his cock into your wet, tight heat, leaving you completely and utterly helpless for it. 

You didn’t know if Sylus had a cruel streak or a merciful one, because eventually he peeled one hand off of your hip and wound it immediately into your hair, and then you knew you were fucked. So very fucked. And not just by the cock driving you crazy. 

Sylus yanked your hair– just a little on the side of painful– and you couldn’t help the way you fucking wailed Sylus’ name, your thighs shaking and your hips slamming back into his fast thrusts. When he pulled again, you obediently scrambled up onto your weak hands, your shoulders trembling and your stomach churning with wanton pleasure. Sylus leaned down and moaned in your ear, his grip on your hair unrelenting as he urged, “Say my name, say my name for me, come on…” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You leaned your head back against Sylus’ shoulder and gasped his name over and over, your voice pitched high and desperate from the way his cock owned you so perfectly. Sylus’ soft sounds were driving you mad for him, eager to hear his voice again, to hear the white haired man tell you how good you were. The hand pulling at your hair made it impossible to form words, though, save for the increasingly needy cries of Sylus’ name and shaky iterations of please, please, please. 

The floor of the boxing ring creaked as Sylus pressed the two of you back down against its surface to speed up, his hips slapping against your ass so aggressively that you couldn’t help but scream for him, the pleas coming in shaking sobs. 

Even though Sylus was so thoroughly possessing you and fucking his cock straight into your cervix, something was still keeping you from getting close. It felt so good, absolutely amazing, but you couldn’t finish like this. Not when Sylus was biting his lip against his own noisy moans. Not when Sylus hadn’t said your name once this entire time. Not when Sylus had yet to look you in the eyes. 

Whining, you turned your head forward so you could look at him in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead. The muscles of his back rippled with effort as he continued pumping his hips, and his own forehead was pressed into your shoulder so he didn’t have to look at you. The change in your breathy sounds caught his attention, however, and Sylus slowed his hips to a rough grind to give the two of you a damn break. He finally lifted his dark, fucked-out gaze to yours, and proceeded to finally made eye contact with you in the mirror. Even hazy with lust, you could still pick out the hurt in Sylus’ eyes. 

You had put that there. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered and spread your fingers out against the padded floor, an unspoken invitation. After a long moment of consideration, Sylus mouthed at your sweat-slick shoulder and carefully unwound his fingers from your tangled hair to twine them together with yours. You gripped his hand tight and shivered for him, rocking back into now-gentle thrusts with a soft moan of his name. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you breathed, looking back at Sylus from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sylus.” 

He stilled then, his free hand moving to tenderly brush your sweaty bangs out of your eyes. He didn’t respond yet, though, instead pulling out entirely to ease you over onto your back. 

Winding your violently trembling legs loosely around his waist, you wiggled as Sylus leaned back over you and aligned himself with your throbbing center once again. When he slid home, it was slow and easy, leaving the two of you gasping. To make things even better, Sylus reached over to grab both of your hands before lacing your fingers together again, balancing easily on his elbows so his chest was nearly flush to yours. It was so close, so damn intimate, and so much better than you deserved that you couldn’t even begin to hope for anything more. 

Sylus was so kind, though. He was thoughtful and courteous and so damn sweet, and he nudged your nose with his own before he finally kissed you again, thank god. You whimpered pitifully, squeezing his hands while he slid his tongue easily between your lips, deepening the kiss and drawing a keening moan from your sore throat. 

This time, Sylus’ thrusts were steady and slow, following an even tempo that left you sputtering against his lips. 

It was a world apart from earlier. Before, Sylus had been fucking you, marking you like you were his territory, holding back even as he let loose some wild, animalistic part of himself brought on by you pushing him away. 

Now, by some grace from god or by virtue of Sylus’ incredible capacity for dealing with your shit, it was like he was making love to you, his cock continuing to fill you up so good but just slow enough that you had time to understand how amazing he made you feel. Sort of. As much as you could understand when you were whispering Sylus’ name against his lips, your voice still rough from screaming and hitching audibly when he thrusted into you. 

You swallowed thickly to coat your dry throat, then opened your eyes to stare up at him again. 

Sylus had pulled back enough that he could see the faces you were making perfectly, how flushed your cheeks were, and how watery your eyes were. Being watched so intimately caused you to flush darker, and you closed your eyes again and arched your back with a broken groan when Sylus’ cock slid over your sweet spot once again. 

“Sylus,” you moaned, sliding your thighs further up his sides and spreading them wider. “Sylus, you’re so good…”

You felt as Sylus bumped your noses together again, squeezing your hands with a contented sigh. You were more than okay with the pace things were moving at, especially once your lover brushed his lips against your cheeks so incredibly tenderly and thrust deeper into you. Spine rounding again, you let loose a shuddering gasp before your mouth fell open with an airy whisper of Sylus’ name. 

“You look so good like this,” Sylus purred, the sound of his voice sending you reeling once again. It was beyond unfair how Sylus had you wrapped around his finger. You instinctively tightened around his cock, and the lecherous moan the action pulled from him made your stomach flip. He chuckled softly shortly thereafter and squeezed your hands again, “So pretty, you know that, kitten? And you take me so well, with the prettiest little noises. God, the noises you make…” 

You were losing your fucking mind. You rolled your head to the side with a bitten-back whimper, your body rocking perfectly into Sylus’ thrusts. There was no way you could have known that the way Sylus whispered to you would set you so on edge, but you had missed it so badly in the seemingly endless period of time you’d had to go without it. Sylus’ praises made you so hot, so damn brainless that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and the bastard knew it. When Sylus sped up, you were still helpless– still unable to do anything other than gasp your lover’s name into the humid air between you both. 

Even as he smiled down at you and chuckled at the way you fell apart, Sylus’ own voice was growing breathier, his moans louder. Apparently you weren’t the only one so deeply affected. 

“I can feel you getting close, kitten,” Sylus moaned against you, his hips moving in deep, quick thrusts that filled you up easily. You licked your lips and cracked open your bleary eyes to watch as Sylus’ brows pinched together in response to your walls clamping down on his cock harder. With a stammered moan of your name, Sylus’ head drooped between his shoulders as he murmured, “You feel incredible. You’re so good for me.” 

That was what you needed more than anything. Sylus moaning your name while his thrusts picked up with more force, his teeth worrying his lip as he fought against his bone-deep urge to finish. Your name spoken by Sylus would forever be your favorite sound, and hearing it now was driving you straight to the edge and building your orgasm up quickly in your gut. Your moans spiked into breathy cries, your muscles tensing and twitching in earnest. Unable to stop yourself, you started to beg, “S-Sylus, Sylus, I’m almost– I’m– please, Sylus–”

Sylus obliged your senseless word babble. He untangled your fingers from his so he could sit up on his heels, looping his arms under your back to bring you with him. With you balanced easily in his lap, Sylus kept one arm around your midsection while the other came to grip your hip before he started thrusting again, his cock angling up and hitting you so deep and so perfect that you were certain you were seeing stars. Your hands flew frantically to Sylus’ toned shoulders, your nails digging in for purchase as that telltale sensation in the pit of your stomach grew stronger and more potent. 

Once Sylus breathed your name again, his voice trailing off into a raspy, rumbling moan, it was more than enough to carry you over the edge. 

Your breasts pressed into Sylus’ chest as your spine arched, your climax crashing over you violently and rendering your brain useless. Sylus groaned long and loud as you clenched impossibly further around his cock, and as you clung desperately to him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, he managed to thrust once, then twice, before he came with a shuddering groan. 

Sylus curled around you possessively and ground against you mindlessly, his large hands gripping you so tightly that you were certain they would leave bruises in their wake. He continued to mumble your name breathlessly into your ear as the two of you came down together, and eventually you were able to think through the pleasured fog that still tinged your vision. 

You continued to breathe heavily, your limbs shaking and twitching as you clenched your eyes shut and continued to hide your looming shame in the crook of Sylus’ neck. The only thing that pulled you out of your makeshift cocoon was the feeling of the larger man’s lips pressing against the top of your head, and you jolted almost violently at the attention. 

“Damn, sweetie,” Sylus said roughly, his hand trailing up your bare back to hold the nape of your neck. “You’re still shaking an awful lot. Are you alright?” 

You were silent for a long time, trying and failing to get your breathing under control again while Sylus simply cradled you. There was nothing you wanted more than to keep holding him, to keep him from leaving you and walking away, but as the dust settled around the two of you, you remembered how bad you had actually fucked up. So you waited for Sylus to release you, to stop mumbling sweet nothings into the top of your head, to banish you from his home entirely and send you back to Linkon City. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. He surprised you by lowering his own head so it was right beside yours, using his chin to gently nudge you out of your hiding spot in his shoulder so he could look at you. “I’m going to need an answer, sweetie, because I’m becoming increasingly worried that I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sylus,” you mumbled, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of directing your words to his chest. Your voice was meek and pitiful, and your lower lip trembled as you tried and failed to fight the influx of tears that welled in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Sylus was quiet. You felt his arms slide away from your back, and for a split second you were convinced that he was going to shove you away and end things with you then and there. But then his hands reappeared between the two of you, tentatively cupping your jaw to angle your face up at him. He looked at you curiously, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to catch the stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. His voice was calm and gentle when he finally asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?” 

“For lying to you. For saying those hurtful things. I know I was overwhelmed by Caleb just… showing up the way he did, but that was no excuse for being so cruel to you.” You swallowed, your brow furrowing as you stared up at the literal love of your life and became overtaken by a fresh dose of remorse. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want Caleb. I don’t want you to think that you’ve been some replacement for him this entire time because I never had feelings like that for him. I should have been honest from the jump instead of getting so defensive. I’m really, really sorry, Sylus.” 

Sylus seemed to mull your confession over– always so careful about picking his words. It was a trait that you could certainly stand to learn from, if only you could manage to stop talking out of your ass for five seconds. 

“I didn’t exactly broach the subject with you delicately,” he admonished with a grimace. “I didn’t stop to consider that your childhood friend was back from the dead. I just assumed the worst and jumped head first into the conversation with that thought driving me. So for that, I’m sorry.” 

A watery smile stretched across your face, and you wrapped your arms around Sylus’ waist with your ear pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing your previously frayed nerves. “So does this mean you forgive me?” 

To your mild surprise, Sylus laughed. Softly, and far from the mean-spirited kind. He returned your embrace eagerly, tracing small circles against your back with his fingers as he shook his head to himself. “There’s hardly that much to forgive. You’ve said worse things to me in the past, remember?” 

“Don’t make me beg. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, kitten. I forgive you.” 

Sighing contentedly, you felt Sylus press a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you tighter to him, then he rose swiftly and easily, not at all slowed down by hoisting you up along with him. You yelped a little in alarm and wrapped your legs around his waist, entirely at his mercy as he somehow managed to duck under the ropes of the boxing ring with you coiled around him like a baby monkey. “Where are we going?” 

“To shower. I have every intention of making the most of your apologetic mood. And I think I might like to see you beg a little.” 

You sat upright in his firm hold, placing your hand on his chest to put a modicum of space between the two of you. “But you said you forgave me! What about Luke and Kieran?! Your room is on the other side of the house– Sylus, we’re naked!” 

Undeterred, Sylus flashed you his trademark smirk– the one that never failed to lower your inhibitions. “Oh, I forgive you. But since I have heard worse things from you before, the way I see it is you can go ahead and earn some more forgiveness while you’re at it.” 

Anxious beyond belief at the prospect of the twins seeing you in the nude, you shoved at Sylus more and scrambled to get out of his hold. He was having none of it, however, and swiftly readjusted his grip so he could toss you over his shoulder, your rear on full display in the event anyone crossed paths with the two of you. When you frantically started kicking your legs and hitting his back, he returned the motion with a playful slap to your ass that pulled a loud yelp from your lips. 

You loved the man with all your heart. You truly couldn’t fathom yourself ever leaving him, nor could you imagine your life without him. He brought a certain excitement to your otherwise dull day-to-day that you treasured and valued endlessly. 

But be that as it may, you were so, so going to kill him for this. 

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

short, fluffy artkita fanfic

includes artyom reassuring nikita and being the sweetest possible as well as awkward, embarrassing teen romance.

note: i just whipped this up because that one post made me think of this. i love artyom being sweet to nikita so much. believe it or not, have a sweet fanfic for these two that ive been working on for several months.

it was a beautiful night. snow fell and laid perfectly on the ground outside, the moonlight filtering in through the window and casting a pale white glow over the dark room.

it was so peaceful and fit the scene perfectly. nikita had gone over to artyoms apartment, now laying in bed with him.

he wasnt feeling well and had expressed that to his friend. as stoic and straight faced as artyom could be, he still worried for nikita. he told him to come over for the night, not wanting him to hurt himself or do something stupid. it was bound to happen.

so instead, they laid together, all cuddled up in bed with the blankets piled up high. it was so cozy and warm, it felt amazing to have this type of companionship.

“im sorry for being such a bother, tyoma,” nikita spoke softly into the others chest, head laying on it “i shouldve stayed home.”

artyom was quick to hush him, hand coming up to run his fingers through his hair “its fine, kitja. i asked you over - youre not bothering me.” if he was being honest, he needed the company too. he hadnt been able to sleep all night, but he knew hed be able to like this.

as much as they got on each others nerves, they could also be the one thing to calm each other down.

“why?,” he asked a beat later, glancing up at him “you never seem to care.” he muttered, not wanting to cause any trouble when things were so nice, but he was pleasantly surprised by the answer given back to him.

the other sighed, nails scratching at his scalp soothingly “i do care, nikita. i always care about you,” his words came out sweet and gentle, a twinge of tiredness to his voice “youre my friend, i love you. i wouldnt be doing this if you werent, would i?”

nikita slowly shook his head, supposing that was true. he felt so lucky to have someone like artyom. he was truly a gift, so special and different from anyone he had ever met.

“no, i guess not,” he replied, body relaxing against him “i just - i dont know,” he swallowed hard, clearly nervous, but he stayed patient and gave him time “i worry im too much for you.” he said it quieter then the rest, just barely above a whisper.

he doesnt respond for a moment, picking his words carefully in his head.

“youll never be too much for me,” it was the truth, he would never be too much for him to handle. hell, they killed people together, why would a little bit of emotional damage be too much for him? “i can handle anything you throw my way, you know that,” he paused, then added, albeit a little embarrassed “i wouldnt give you up over something so small.”

a small smile spread across nikitas face upon hearing that. something as simple as that made him so happy to hear. he loved artyom and wanted to know he loved him too, that he cared about him and that all of their issues were just scratches rather then full blown wounds.

“do you really mean that?”

“yeah, i do. i wouldnt trade you for the world.”

it was sweet and awkward, a little embarrassing for two teenage boys, but they still acted this way anyway. they wouldnt say it out loud, but there was a mutual feeling between them that was stronger then just a normal friendship. their actions words, although embarrassing, conveyed that alone.

“i wouldnt trade you for the world either,” he holds onto him a little tighter “youre the best, tyoma. i love you.”

it made artyoms face warm up a little to hear that, a soft layer of blush dusted over his cheeks. he smiled warmly “i love you too, kitja,” he placed a gentle kiss to the top of his head “now, go to sleep. im tired.”

nikita couldnt help the small giggle he let out, eyes fluttering closed as all the tension in his body eased completely.

it felt nice to have him over top of him like this. the weight and warmth of his body was therapeutic and soothing, making his eyelids feel heavy and his mind fuzzy with sleep. he takes a moment to stare though, admiring how handsome he looked when he was like this.

hes all he could ever need. deep down he hoped their friendship will stay intact and that nothing will get in the way of it, he thinks he could spend the rest of his life like this, maybe with a few adjustments, but nonetheless he wouldnt have it any other way.

his own eyes closed, easily drifting off now that he had nikita with him.

[todayisafridaynight]

i know kiwami 3 isn’t coming any time soon but the fact that it was CONFIRMED to be coming soon makes me tweak rlly bad like i need it so bad I WNAT IT NOW!!!!!!!!

NOT SOON FRIEND tho i guess relatively soon. a confirmation of sorts at all is enough to make me sick really....... it still makes me wanna see hd mine so.........

[snekdood]

i worry a lot about some transfems and its not me trying to be like "im better than you" or some shit its bc some of them remind me of me when i was a kid and new into being considered a girl/woman and being really naive thinking people would treat me better than they would- like i knew people were gonna be shitty but i wasnt prepared for the sheer amount of dehumanization and being reduced to just a sex object... idk... I just want some of you out there to be careful...

[fridgevespidae]

man. ppl who hate ppl using tone indicators bum me out!

[unconventional-lawnchair]

" Dinner Party "

Part 1

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Potter!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: The Potters throw a dinner party; Mattheo meets the family}

Wc- 4142

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Harry is a bit of an arse, cussing, sexual themes cussing, just a bunch of fluff and yearning}

Taglist- @helendeath @2dloveshp @hatakemrs

“Well.” Lily spoke slowly. “Look at us now.” 

Lily looked over at you just in time for you to glance up and meet her eyes. She smiled sweetly before she continued. “I think its sweet.”

…

The tension in the room was slowly beginning to ease. You couldn't help but feel a bit of hope grab hold of your chest. Your eyes flickered between your mother and your father. James, of course, ever protective, still held a look of drastic offense as Lily spoke up again. “I know you're a smart girl, I raised you myself. I knew your partner would be a sore subject.” 

She reached her hand over and placed it over James’ leg. She smiled at him, a look to try and convey everything running threw her head at once. They are kids. Our angel will be okay.

“Why? Did you.. not trust my judgment?” You asked cautiously, your hands slowly fisting the cloth of your pants. 

Lily quickly shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. Quite the opposite.” She mused and turned to look at James who had closed his eyes and began to even his breaths.

“We used to joke you were perhaps meant to be a Hufflepuff. Darling, you have always seen the best in people, even when others couldn't really see it.” Lily offered and James scoffed. Your mother gave a small grimace before she spoke carefully. “Love is complicated. I can attest to that.” She began, eyeing James as if warning him to challenge her. 

“But love is beautiful. That night, at dinner, was the first time I've ever seen you talk back to us. I was distraught, and I am sorry I reacted the way I did.” She began to fiddle with his pant leg between her fingers. Speaking before you could continue. “It was immature. And if this boy puts so much fire in you, I want to at least meet him.”

Your body stiffened and your eyes widened. Looking between your father and mother as you stammered and tried to stutter out something. “M-meet you guys? We've only been dating a few months now.” You tried to defend.

You loved Mattheo, but he wasn't exactly house trained. He was raised by a house elf and saying the Malfoy’s tried to help raise him would be an exaggeration at the least. He could be polite, charming, he was well mannered when he wanted to be, as he had a smile that could take breaths away. 

But he was also Mattheo Riddle, and the idea of putting him in a room with your father, the other most hotheaded boy you knew, was a terrifying one. Mattheo didn't take kindly to being reminded of his father. It felt cruel to put him in a boxed up room with the very people his parents tried to kill. Not to mention, he got emotional when it came to families. 

You acted like you didn't notice at first, for Merlin's sake you were head over heels for this boy. You would sit in his dorm room, bare to your core and tangled together under the sheets. He would be holding you from behind like you were a vice, telling you about his dreams of a family with love like yours. When you would mention your family, he’d grow tense but stay his stoic self when you would ask. 

It wasn't hard to read him like a book, especially since Mattheo basically read it for you. He had changed a lot in the last few months you'd been with him. You used to fight horribly the first month. He was still so used to his single status, he hadn't really had positive expectations set on him. You explained to him what you wanted, you were patient, then he started to talk and communicate with you more efficiently, copying your behaviors to mimic your maturity. He loved how happy you looked when he improved himself, the praise sick boy wanting any bit you'd give him. When he told you he quit smoking, he let you drown him in praise and kisses, using withdrawal as an excuse for him being more handsy with you.

You soon learned from his friends that he had quit months ago, when you first told him you hated them, the cheek. He didn't even have the sense to look guilty when it came to light, just seemed so damn proud of himself.

In all honesty, it was hard not to adore him. Even when he was being a little arse. You had fallen hard for the loaded gun, and he obeyed you like you were the trigger. That being said.. he was still Mattheo, meeting your parents seemed like a bigger step than when he would drag you under his sheets with a silencing charm. 

“What? Don't want him to meet us?” James spoke up, and you snapped out of your thoughts. He sounded almost hopeful, like you weren't entirely serious about him. You gave him a pout and Lily squeezed his thigh tighter. 

“Do you think it's too soon, lovely?” Your mother asked patiently and you bit your lip. The last thing you wanted to do was lie to your mother. Lying to James was easy, he was a bit of a push over when it came to you, and you never lied about anything truly groundbreaking. But Lily, she had been your best friend for years. She was your mother, your confidant, and she knew more about you than anyone else. Probably helps that she's known you since you were welcomed home.

“... I am just scared.” You admitted and James’s expression shifted to soften. He sat up a bit and Lily gave him a soft smile.

“Why?” Your mother prodded and you curled your knees to your chest. 

“Just.. he's never had this.” You gestured around you. “He can be a bit.. reactive when it comes to stress?” You tried to offer the information carefully and James frowned hard.

“Reactive as in?” He leaned closer and your eyes flashed open wide. 

“No, Merlin, he would never. Not to me.” You tried to defend and the look on your mothers face made you realize what you said.

“That's not- no, I don't mean it like that.” You quickly tried to back track. Lily sent James a smirk. 

James looked at her with a furrowed brow and a slight pout. “What?”

“Just reminds me of how I tried to defend my choice of partner to my parents. Then, to your parents.” Lily laughed and James bit his cheek but smiled to see his wife so happy. You watched the two and your heart throbbed a bit. You loved your parents so much. You wanted that with Mattheo. Were you moving too fast? It was likely. Could this go horribly wrong? Most definitely. 

“Okay.” You spoke up and your parents turned to you “I'll invite him.”

~~~

Mattheo was at the Lestrange manor alone, as usual, but this summer was far different. He usually would busy himself with his friends, going to pointless balls the Malfoy’s insisted he attend, sneaking off with pureblood girls he didn't even remember the names of. Or better, going drinking with his mates from school.

This summer was killing him. The silence of the manor used to bother him before, every footstep sounded like thunder, every breath he made echoed in his ears, but now? Merlin. You came from a loud family, you didn't know the pain of it. When he was with you, the louder things weren't always bad. You always talked a bit louder than him, played music in his dorm with his unused radio, talked to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. It was easy to like the louder things now. He hated quiet.

The silence just reminded him you weren't there. He didn't even remember when his nights spent alone with witches of different backgrounds became nights of desperate yearning for you. Neither of you had said it yet, but even if you were just talking now, he didn't intend to keep it that way. He didn't want anyone else. He couldn't have anyone else. And the idea of you with someone else? He'd rather die.

Theodore Nott had been lettering him to try and get him out of the hell house, but the idea of you lettering him back when he wasn't home ate him up inside. Pansy called him whipped, when he lettered her to ask if he had done something wrong. ‘It’s only been two weeks, let her settle.’ Out of all of his friends, you clicked with her the easiest. It didn't help that he got a bit jealous when you talked to his male friends. He's never cared this much.

He was sure you've had to have hexed him.

Slipped him Amortentia.

Or soaked your entire body in it. 

Maybe it was mixed into that lovely perfume of yours? 

He groaned out and covered his face, leaning back from his desk into his seat. He let his arms go slack at the sides of his chair and looked at the ceiling. He was pathetic, but he wasn't scared of it this time. He liked feeling weak, if it was for you. He bit his bruised bottom lip and turned to look at the window. What would you think of him now? Sitting about with nothing to do but need you. He needed the heavenly haze you gave him. He liked to worship you, like you were all he was beyond his family. 

Two days after he had sent that letter, he was starting to wonder if you had realized your mistake. That being with your family reminded you that Mattheo Riddle was no one. Someone who should remember he was no one. Not worth the time you spared him day to day, that he was just some phase. He didn't know if he could recover from you. He might just throw the towel in if you didn't want him. Who could recover from a love like a prayer? A love that made him think of you like it was a threat. You were a threat. To his sanity. To his reputation. To his status. 

And he was a threat to you. Obsession, he had to agree with Draco. You are an obsession.

His thoughts were thrown out when he noticed something coming into view through his window. He nearly knocked his chair over as he stumbled over to open it. The Potter’s Owl.

~~~

“You're invited to the Potter’s Residence for our first dinner party of the year,”

Mattheo thumbed over the invitation in hand. He was shocked when he first read it, not only did he never expect to be invited to the Potter’s, he definitely didn’t ever expect you to tell your parents enough about him to be invited. He was excited, thumbing the invitation over and over.

He had groomed himself properly, he was in a button up shirt and a green vest, his hair was almost tamed. He was holding the invitation, raising his knuckle to knock on the door.

You snapped to attention from where you were looking in the mirror. You were wearing a deep forest green dress, the one you knew Mattheo loved, and your dad seemed to take that as a personal offense, dressed in his red dress shirt that matched your mothers dress.

“I still don't like this.” Sirius grumbled from his seat on the couch, and Remus rolled his eyes from where he leaned in the doorway. “A bit late, darling.” He mumbled as he watched you walk down the hall to open the door.

Lily requested Harry and James set up the table, leaving just you and her in the immediate room.

You took a deep breath, looking at your mom before she nodded and you turned back. Opening the door you were a bit startled to see Mattheo so put together, you had to remember that he was raised as pureblood royalty, you just never figured you'd see him so done up. You bit your lip a bit and he chuckled at this, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly stepped aside and he walked in, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his form, not having noticed Lily yet. 

“I missed you, beautiful.” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss you. The second his lips touched yours, you sighed. Like he unwove every bit of your tense frame with just his touch. You couldn't remember a thing, not why you were so worried, where you were, and how your mother was watching you. For ten whole seconds, with just his soft careful kiss, he had made you dumb. He took a sharp breath and sighed after you, stepping closer.

Lily noticed the signs as it got a bit deeper than just a greeting kiss, and she quickly cleared her throat. You quickly pulled away in a fluster, and Mattheo just followed your lips to give you another quick peck, before he pulled back and gave Lily his dazzling look. “Mrs. Potter, right?” He mused and you had to catch a whine in your throat when he stepped back. He held his hand out and Lily moved to shake it, but instead he took her palm and kissed the back of her wrist. “You have a lovely home, ma'am. I can't say I'm surprised, {Y/N} had taken on your style.” He mused and Lily smirked at him.

“So you've been to my daughter’s dorm, hm?” She asked cheekily and his eyes widened and his face dropped. Like a guilty puppy. “I-”

Lily laughed and waved her hand. “Please, don't feel the need to explain. I'm only joking.”

Mattheo blinked a few times and slowly smiled. You and Lily were a lot alike. It looked like he had an ally already. He let go of her hand and stood up straighter. Waving his hand a bundle of Orchids appeared and he offered them to her. “Well, thank you for welcoming me.”

Your heart swelled at the interaction. Maybe tonight wouldn't be horrible. 

“Riddle, hm?” 

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Sirius stood in the doorway of the parlor room, staring down at Matheo with a harsh glare. Mattheo met his gaze with his usual dissociative state. “Sirius Black, sir? It's nice to meet you.” He mused and offered him his hand. Sirius looked down at his hand then back to Mattheo. Riddle sighed and moved his hand down to his side, a bit startled when you walked up and took it for yourself. 

He smiled at you like a love sick fool, and Sirius felt his lip twitch at the look.

Remus seemed to see it too, ever the helpless romantic, he bit his cheek. Trying to hide a smile. 

Now, Remus despised the idea of you bringing a Riddle into the family. He hated the idea you would possibly, one day carry the last name of the monster that was Tom Riddle. But those thoughts left his head when he saw how you rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers playing with his, like a practiced art, knowing exactly how to soften the blow of rejection from your uncle.

Suddenly, Mattheo was giving that bright smile again, and you felt a bit cocky to be the one to give it to him. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and you peaked over it but just stared at his profile.

“Nice to meet you, again.” Remus mused, offering his hand and Mattheo’s smile only grew, taking his hand and shaking it firm. “Thank you, Professor.”

He shook his head. “Remus is fine.”

Sirius gawked at him in full offense, having lost himself to the boy's charm. 

Before Sirius could make a snappy comment, Lily spoke up. “Well, I'm sure you're hungry, let's go get you fed, hm?”

“Yes ma'am.” Mattheo responded in kind, before glancing down at you by his shoulder and wetting his lips. Leaning down to steal another kiss, Sirius scoffed as he passed you two to get to the table. Remus followed behind him, as Lily waved the two to their seats. 

“Not much for a dinner party, hm?” He mumbled to you and you gave a small laugh. 

“Not all of us are as extravagant as your family.” You teased and he gave a wolfish smirk. “I think you forget, your father is James Potter, famous for his parties if I remember.” He teased and you rolled your eyes before biting your lip. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Not to mention, even if he seems to hate me, Sirius is my family.”

You narrowed your eyes before your eyebrows jumped upward as you pieced together his family tree. Right. His mother was Sirius’s cousin. It suddenly sunk into you just why Sirius seemed to be taking this so seriously. Mattheo was a mix of the two things he hated most, his family and Voldemort. Must be hard to believe anything good could come from those two things.

You shoved the thought away. He could get over himself. You weren't going to throw away everything you and Mattheo were because Sirius couldn't get over his bias. Your father too.

Once you and Mattheo walked into the dining room, it seemed to be going well. There wasn't much conversation between Mattheo and your family, you found yourself talking to each other. Updates on your lives, him whispering how much he missed you, taking every opportunity to drown you in his affections. You were a flustered mess, but smiling the brightest you've had in days. It was like an addiction, his attention. 

You didn't notice Lily's attention on you two, too wrapped up in Riddle. He was the same, looking at you like you were the last person in the world, like you were worth falling for. He sure hoped so, because he was approaching the ground rapidly as your eyes danced his features. It reminded her of something, turning to look at James and was met with the same look as he tried to start up another Quidditch conversation with her. She simply rolled her eyes fondly. How could he not see what was happening?

“So.” Lily spoke up after her conversation with James flickered out. She spoke in a tone that demanded attention. “How did you two meet? When did this start?” She offered and Mattheo bit his cheek and looked at you, for the hundredth time that night. You smiled and looked back at your mom.

“Well, Professor McGonagall asked me to help a student study during lunch periods. I had no clue who it was but I figured it couldn't hurt.” You mused, conveniently not bringing up the bribe. “Then it kind of.. changed. Eventually it just became casual study dates. Like one, I was teaching him how to summon a patronus and-” You lit up as bright as a star as you began your story, before Harry scoffed. Your face fell a bit and you looked over at Harry with a furrowed brow.

Mattheo had to resist the urge to snap at him for taking away such a view.

He looked up at you with a glare. “I've just never met a Death Eater who could use a patronus is all.”

There was a thick silence that filled the room as your jaw went slack. You tried to figure out a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, mouth growing dry.

Lily tried to speak up but Mattheo beat her to it. “Sorry to disappoint, still haven't it seems.” He cheeked and you looked back at him with a laugh. Your mother gave Harry a look that certainly meant danger for him later. Harry didn't even seem to care, just scoffed.

“He summoned a Fox.” You informed your mother and her mouth fell open a bit, her smile brightening. 

“Is that true?” He prodded Mattheo and he nodded. “Yes ma'am.”

Lily looked at James with raised eyebrows, amused, and he shook his head before clicking his tongue. “So. Heard you were in the Quidditch team, what position?” James finally and reluctantly joined the conversation. 

“Beater, sir.” Mattheo mused and smirked, eyeing Harry from the corner of his eye. “Seems someone still miffed over the bludger he took a few weeks ago.”

“Your team cheated.” Harry challenged quickly and Mattheo gave him a wolfish smirk. “Did we? Or is that the only way you'd accept that we got the cup?”

“Watch it, Riddle. I'll make a fool of you next season.” Harry quipped and it actually sounded almost playful. You gave a scoff and Mattheo chuckled. Figures they'd bond over Quidditch of all things.

“Really? A beater?” James spoke up and Mattheo looked over to him with a nod. 

“Sirius was a beater too, we were a fierce team.” James mused and leaned forward. “We created this move…”

Their voices faded out, and you smiled at the scene. It was cordial, almost friendly, as the men at the table talked about the sport with enthusiasm. Well, all safe for Remus who started talking to your mother about a new book recommendation. You just watched how Mattheo seemed to fall into place in your family so easily, and how happy he seemed about it. 

Way too soon, the night was over, and Mattheo was leaving. You and your parents walked him to the door, and he turned to face you.

“Thank you again, Mrs. Potter, the food was amazing. And Mr. Potter, thank you for allowing me to come over.” He mused and your mom shook her head. “Please, anytime sweetheart. Call me Lily.” 

Then, much to your surprise. “Call me James.” Your father mused and took his hand into a firm shake.

Mattheo had this startled look on his face, thrown for a loop before he quickly recovered. “Y-yes sir. I mean James, yes James.”

You giggled and before Mattheo could be given any more surprises, you walked up and hugged his arm. “I'll walk him out of the apparition wards.”

“Don't be gone too long-” James began before Lily covered his mouth and shooed you both off. “Go! We'll be here.” She reassured you.

You pulled Mattheo out the door, leaving Lily to smirk up at James and he groaned. “Okay, the kid isn't that bad.”

“You too!?” Sirius shouted from across the house and Lily laughed. 

~~~

You walked with Mattheo, managed to get just a few yards from the house before his lips were on yours. He had stopped completely, wrapping his arms around your waist and almost toppled you over when he leaned over your frame so easily. You let your hands slide up to his biceps and he gave a low groan, pulling away before he got too far. 

You took a sharp puff of air and steadied your breathing. Your eyes met his deep dark ones. He was looking at you with something so familiar and yet it was hungrier than you'd ever seen before. “Mattheo-”

“Tonight was amazing.” He whispered and took your lips again. This time, you actually managed to prepare yourself. Your hands slipped behind his neck and into his gelled hair. Pouting into the kiss and he smirked. “What?”

“Your hair. I hate it like this.” You mumbled into his lips, not wanting to break the kiss. Mattheo laughed and pulled his wand from his pocket, waving it to return his hair to his naturally fluffy glory. 

“That better?” He teased, giving a toothy smirk as he watched you lick your lips clean of him. 

“Much.” This time, you started the kiss, earning a low yelp from him. He chuckled and pushed you against the wall of your fathers property. Hands roaming lower, as you tilted your head back, his new target being your neck.

“You’ve been driving me mad all night, ya know that?” He breathed against your collarbone, fingers fiddling with the end of your dress. “Had to look your father in the eye tonight, and you still wore this? All I could think of was the last time you wore it.” 

You gave a low gasp when his fingers lipped just under the small skirt. “M-Mattheo-”

“I've missed you, beautiful. The last two weeks were torture, you know that? Know what you do to me?” He mumbled against your skin. Your eyes grew hazy the more he spoke. Like he was controlling you with his words. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he looked just past you. 

“Huh. Do you guys have a dog?” He asked and you snapped out of your trance when you heard a loud roar from behind you. “And.. a stag? You have dogs and deer on your property?” He asked and you simply covered your face and gave a loud groan.

“Dad!!”

[iceunhie]

HEART TO HEART — aventurine

premise ⁠☆ the five times aventurine bares his heart out to you, and the one time it works in his favor (or, in which aventurine says he loves you, in his own little ways.)

a/n ⁠☆ lovesick aventurine, i repeat super lovesick aventurine this is not half-assed, reader is the same reader from make a bet !!

The first time Aventurine opened up to you, he thinks that you looked like what starlight could be in human form.

He speaks your name like a victory falling upon his lips, a measured weight in its cadence. Aventurine relishes in the way you look alert, placing your attention on him (and him alone), sticking to his side like the faithful subordinate that you are.

He's come to learn that you don't exactly do friends—you are the very image of professionalism, never crossing the lines you shouldn't cross; and if he’s not careful, you could disappear at the slightest touch, just like starlight. (Would it kill you to stay just for him?)

“Have I ever told you that you look prettier when you smile?”

You pause from your game, looking up from the chessboard you and your co-worker, boss, and give him a look that one can truly only enjoy if they were either a masochist or someone who enjoyed another's disgust of them. “About 25 times now, Aventurine.”

“You've been counting? I didn't know you loved my praise that much.”

“Does every word that comes out of your lips lack sense, or is it just me?”

“Haha, it's just you.”

“Lucky me.” you roll your eyes. Aventurine's eyes melt, like butter in the sun.

Sometimes he feels the urge to always compliment you—because this is the only way for you to keep your eyes on him, to only look at him, and Aventurine has always loved looking at your eyes.

(If he kept looking, would he convey his heart to you?)

You scrunch up your face. Cute. “What?”

“Nothing.” Fondness bleeds from within him, the Kakavasha of old seeping into the cracks of his hollow shell. Aventurine plays gambles, risks death, yet this feeling of elation is something that triumphed in all of that.

He wonders if you notice; if you know that his honeyed words are genuine, as genuine as a liar like him can be. Aventurine wonders if you can tell that every poke and prod hides the underlying meaning of desperation—the words he can never bring himself to say because he thinks he's far too unworthy (for you). Still…

“I hope you know that it's true.” Just this once, he’ll let you see, just this once. “I mean it. You look prettier when you smile.”

Just this once, Aventurine thinks. He’ll bare his heart to you just this once. It's a gamble, a risk; a gamble he wants to risk.

And indeed, perhaps this is what Gaiathra’s blessing is for.

He sees you bristle like a cat, so wary—but he sees the flush coating your cheeks, reaching well up to the tips of your ears, and he knows he's won. Checkmate. “That's such a lame compliment. Is that best you executives can do?”

“Mm, wouldn't you like to know?” (To love is such an unpredictable thing.)

Aventurine may be a liar, but Kakavasha isn't, because Kakavasha strung together his remains in hopes of perceiving you.

In hopes of loving you.

—

Aventurine has only three words to describe himself: loser, liar, and murderer.

He can think of other words too, like Sigonian, IPC lapdog, coward, unworthy… a plethora of ugly, demeaning, visceral words— it makes his throat bubble with acid, coiling ang churning under the weight of his own existence. Disgusting.

There's another, too. Greedy. He's greedy. Whether as Kakavasha or Aventurine, the hunger to consume all lingers fresh in his mind. The strong takes all, and the weak is left to suffer. It's a need that knows no end, embittering all he cherished, cherishes. Like an iron chain upon his neck. He's greedy for solace, freedom; death, and—

“Aventurine, are you okay?” you.

How truly fortunate he is to behold your expression, when your concern is as slim as the chances of a collision of planets; when the expressive range of your emotions towards him range from either exasperation or irritation.

His smile feels rotten today, unbearably sweet. The smile of a thief. A liar. A Sigonian. “Are you worried about me?”

“You…” the traces of care don't slip from your expression despite the annoyance that betrays your tone. “Be serious here—you haven't been sleeping, have you? What is it? Is Sir Diamond assigning you yet another impossible mission?”

“No. Nothing of the sort, my friend.” His voice is flat. He doesn't know what's more agonizing. Knowing you care (and always have cared) for him, or knowing that he's making you go through all this trouble just to care for him.

He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “It's just a minor upset, don't worry.”

(How could you even care about someone like him? Is this love? Care? How could you look at him like he's worthy of being perceived? He is a liar, a cheat, a coward.)

He doesn't want to be indebted to you. Rather, he doesn't want you to see him; vulnerable, weak. Allowing you to freely enter his study as he's buried under piles of duty bound work just to come across one of the rare times where he's just Kakavasha—alone, weak, and fickle.

(Because as Kakavasha, Aventurine cannot hide his yearning for you, for deceit is unworthy of you; just like he is for you.)

Worst of all, Aventurine feels that if you see him, you’ll find out just how ugly he truly is. You'd slip away from him, like starlight. Out of reach; never to be seen again.

(Humans cannot survive without the light. Aventurine is starting to understand why.)

“Then I'll get you something to eat at least, so you can-”

“No, wait.” He speaks your name like a plea, and you stay. Relief floods through his senses.

Aventurine thinks that perhaps because of the vulnerability he's exposed, you've even become softer. Because why else would you look like that, looking at him like he's worth something? “What is it, Aventurine?”

“Can you stay by my side?” There's a crack in his voice that he wishes to hide, but you don't mind anyway. “Just this once.” Please.

A part of him hurts, having to beg. It reminds him all too much of days when the commodity code on his neck defined the crux of his existence; it is all he will be, will continue to be, all he is allowed to be. But Aventurine is no longer Kakavasha; hiding away from the world.

“...Okay.” Aventurine’s heart throbs when he sees your concerned expression. You know better than to ask questions, something he deems both a boon and a bane. “I'll stay. As- As much as you want.”

Why is he just like a fool whenever he's with you?

They say that to covet what must not be coveted is one’s downfall, and Aventurine is no different. His eyes trail over your form, every inch of the stardust that make you. “Thank you. Really.”

Aventurine has only three words to describe him: liar, loser, and murderer. There may be others, but this defines the very tapestry of his lamentable existence, from the moment he was brought forth upon the world; that of which no longer exists, dissolving like the sand of Sigonia’s deserts.

“Don't thank me, Aventurine. Just—get some rest. I'll be there when you wake up.”

“Nn. You're too kind. Should I double that paycheck of yours next month?”

He can hear you scoff, that bit of mirth you let slip reinvigorating him, sustaining him. “....Sweet dreams, Aventurine.”

And if Aventurine strains his mind enough, deludes himself enough; he can hear you say in a voice that's tender, warm; like the warm embrace of his sister, honeyed Avgin spilling from her lips. Brimming with love. Brimming with care.

‘May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you,’

Aventurine is a Sigonian lapdog, an unfettered gambler. He needs no tears, for there will be none to shed in his victory. He has never lost, and sees no need to shed tears for something that he will never experience. (His hand still shakes, betting on his life.)

‘keeping your blood eternally pulsing.’

He feels your fingers brush against the strands of his hair, taking off his glasses. Aventurine stills. Kakavasha falls, full of love, loving you.

‘…may your journey be forever peaceful,’

He watches you, staying by his side; and Aventurine can't help but add another name to define him.

‘and your schemes forever concealed.’

A fool. (a lover.)

Two system hours later, Aventurine wakes to the scent of lavender scented candles and a blanket covering his body, with the paperwork neatly handled, your writing scribbled on some of the pages.

Get well soon.

—

Envy is a face Aventurine has long grown accustomed to seeing.

He saw it as Kakavasha; the look others give when they see his eyes, when they look at his profile. As Aventurine, he sees it in the eyes of space traders as they gaze upon his wealth, how the eyes of others fall onto him as he walks past.

Others get consumed by it, others deny it; Aventurine embraces it. He knows the feeling of having nothing and wishing he could have things others can have with little effort.

But the fact that he also wears its mask is ironic, especially given the subject of his envy.

The third time Aventurine bares his heart out to you, it had been an accident.

He shouldn't be jealous, envious of those who get to help you with the IPC’s missions. It is the right, sensible thing to do; because you make him feel illogical, unable to comprehend in the haze of longing.

(Perhaps lovesickness isn't too far off a word.)

This is why you make him break free of his self-imposed apathy at seeing you off. Aventurine checks the file you'd be heading off to, letters in pristine print along with his signature, an indication of his approval. Pier Point. The name besides yours that indicate that you will be travelling together burns him like scalding iron, stinging like a brand upon his skin. Something green and uncomfortable in him roars.

In a sense of uncharacteristic recklessness and perhaps brought upon by his longing; Aventurine ends up seeing you off.

“I'll get going now- Aventurine….?” your words falter when you watch as your co-worker strides toward you, terribly fast. “I thought you weren't coming to see me.”

“I can't have my dearest friend leave without seeing their handsome colleague’s face.” he says, like a liar. Small mercies to his ability to divert his inner feelings—and to not think about the fact that seeing you makes his heart throb in an ache no hunger can satiate.

You scoff, and thankfully you don't seem that irritated. If anything, you're in a good mood today. Even let him see the way your head tilts to bite back a smile. “How fortunate of me then.”

(He is.)

“Extremely.” he calls your name like a wager, seeking an answer. “How long are you going to be away this time?”

“Almost a month, maybe. I was told that since the Pier Point Incursion, many of those under your department have been stationed to help sustain the damage.”

“...I see. My well wishes to you then, friend. Seems you've got your work cut out for you.”

He's sulking, and you can't help but laugh. Like a golden retriever. “Why so glum? Don't tell me you'd miss me.”

And for all his grace at maintaining his carefully crafted mask, Aventurine's whole world stops when he hears the sound. “How could anyone ever not miss you?”

You pause mid-laugh. Aventurine feels his face heat. He slipped up. Again, because of you. Because you always made him feel as though the universe could stop and end with you; and that this rotten hunger that gnawed at his bones might just be that he cared for you far too much for his own good.

…And now he felt like he wanted to fall back into a sandpit and hide there forever. “Is that what you think, Aventurine?”

The way you say his name is so intoxicating. It sounds hesitant, seeing through him in an instant.

“Maybe.” He can't look at you right now, or else he'll imagine it—how could you ever feel the way he feels for you? When you were you and he was… him. “I'm afraid I've been too reliant on my closest colleague.”

“Then come with me next time.” you look at him as though he'd break at any moment; tender. There's something else, too. “If you'd miss me that much.”

You flash him a cheeky, lovely smile, and Aventurine loves, loves, and loves.

How unfair you are, capable of reducing him to bits; bringing him to your light and making his heart set off like fireworks in the night.

For now, he will be Aventurine—he could never resist such a tempting offer, not when its weight was far more valuable than any treasure of all.

He smiles, business-like in nature, one used to deceive, to lie. But Aventurine—Kakavasha smiles in fondness, in adoration. “It would be my pleasure.”

—

Aventurine has always thought that the space in his heart is empty because it was meant to be.

Because he is not worthy of feeling—he is a tool to be used; every part of him taken away and exploited away by others at their whim. In short, he is his best bargaining chip at any stability in his life.

“Aventurine, you’ll catch a cold if you keep forgetting to remove your coat.”

But you don't think that way, and it confuses him, to say the least. Like a shooting star, traces of your existence are specks in his life that have become far too important for him to let go.

Whether it be indulging in his whims of poker, allowing him to see the sight of your expressions in embarrassment and resignation, or the subtleties that have led him to believe (at least, he hopes to believe) that you do care.

And each time, Aventurine embeds your name into his heart even further, dreams of you in the far corners of his heart reserved only for the dead he needed to bury. His feelings, his family, and this growing attachment to you that became too difficult to hold back.

Even now, as you hand him a towel and take his wet coat out of the way, Aventurine doesn't know if this is a blessing or a curse. You are always like this—overwhelmingly blinding, tethering himself to you without warning with your compassion. “I won't get sick.”

“Uh huh.” your eyebrows raise, and you take him inside. “That’s what all the people who get sick after being soaked in the rain say.”

“Well, aren't you just charming.”

“Thanks, I'm told it's one of my defining qualities.”

He laughs, genuine. You're probably the only one to be able to bring out this part of him. “Such an angel you are.”

“Yes, yes, very much.” You smile with faux sweetness, though Aventurine's heart stutters anyway. “Stop patronizing me and dry off already.”

“Alright, no need to get so fussy.” he throws up his hands in surrender, and he waits until you leave his quarters, strides measured as you give him privacy to change.

Aventurine wonders if you know just how much he loves you. Because he knows he does.

Recently, Kakavasha has come to a dangerous conclusion.

Perhaps the reason the space in his heart is empty was because you had been dictated to fit in it, and that Aventurine knows he’d never want you to leave.

—

Grief haunts Aventurine like a ghost, an old friend. Anguish whispers in Kakavasha’s ears and dictates its path to be his destiny.

But love comes in the form of Aventurine’s adoration for you.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to die?”

“No.”

A lie. Aventurine has always had a morbid, twisted curiosity of death. Death is the earliest lesson taught to him, among the lessons of Mama Fenge and the cruel acts of the Katicans. Death is his companion, a reminder that his life is merely defined by his usefulness, his luck.

“Why are you asking?” It is a mundane question, spoken atop the glamourous balcony as you and him look down at the glittering streetlights in Penacony below, watching the people of the dreamscape live the life their reality never brought them.

“No reason. Just… I wondered.” You hum, and Aventurine notes the miniscule shiver of your body, the lowering of your gaze; you're thinking about something again. (He wonders if you'd let him listen to what you want to say.) “What death might be like in this dreamscape.”

An underlying feeling of tension. You know what Aventurine's been up to. What he's been searching for in order to act out the IPC’s plan. Though it infuriates you to know he's doing this to himself, you're powerless to do anything about it. There is a wall between you that Aventurine refuses to cross.

Instead, his silent question comes in the form of his coat draped around your back. There's no motion of rejection from you, which makes him feel nice—even if it's just for a while. “Thank you.”

You didn't need to thank him. Aventurine knows that he'd do anything for you anyway even if you don't ask a thing. But you do anyway, because you were lovely and blinding; and he yearns to grasp at even a single wisp of your reality.

“For what it's worth,” Aventurine says, the characteristic lilt of amusement in his voice gone, replaced with something authentic, “I wouldn't want you to die. Such a thing would be unfortunate for someone with lots of promise in the economic field.”

You glance at him with a funny look, exasperated but not surprised. “Well, I'm glad you think so highly of me...?”

He cringes at that, huffs out a weak ‘naturally’ as he stares out at the distance. The wall between you weakens.

“And, well, the sentiment is the same for me. I don't want you to die either.” you say, and the glow of the streetlights illuminate your face, and Aventurine's eyes don't leave your presence, wanting to burn the sight to his irises, to his pupils; never letting a fiber of your being go unloved. Retaining you and keeping you close when his hands cannot.

(If only you knew.)

“I wouldn't go down without a fight.” he says, and Aventurine takes you in—the ways in which you gaze upon the scenery below, watching how you chuckle as you hear the loud countdown to the fireworks, the way your voice has always been the light, his adoration for you a stone to grab on in his gamble in life.

There's silence. Loving you is like loving the way the air fills your lungs as you breathe, because loving you was as natural as breathing in the sandy dunes of the place he once called home, as natural as the Avgin that filled his ears, and loving you is everything to him, for Kakavasha was a dreamer, and you are his dreams personified.

Loving you reminds him of home, because you have burrowed your way into his bones, his lungs and his skin, and Kakavasha fills himself with your existence and lives. Loves.

He speaks your name like it's the last thing he could ever do, and that through you, Kakavasha lived, and Kakavasha loved you.

And like always, it's there. Your attention, on him, as he always knows it will be (and as he always hopes it shall be.) as you gaze at him like he's the brightest star in the sky. Or maybe it's the light refracting in your eyes. Aventurine doesn't really care which. “What is it?”

The wall between you two disappears completely, and Kakavasha begins anew, his heart undone.

When Aventurine finally bares his heart to you for the fifth time as the burst of fireworks ricochet across the skies, he hopes those three words will reach you.

bonus: the one time aventurine bares out his heart to you, and he gets rewarded.

Aventurine’s hair has always reminded you of the color of gold.

It is the color of the sunlight as it gently basks against your skin, the color of expensive champagne the man next to you so favors, and the color of the edges of his sunglasses.

(You've always been fond of yellow.)

“Aventurine?” you say, tone light, urging him to wake up. He's truly relentless, adamant on sulking as though his most valuable treasure would slip away from his grasp like you are right now because you were running late. “Can you let me get up now?”

“Good morning to you too.” purple eyes greet your form and an arm winds itself around your waist, pulling you even closer. “And unfortunately for you, I'm afraid I don't want to.”

“I'll be late. You know Jade hates tardiness-”

“-And I would be devastated to not have my lover by my side and leave me heartlessly.” Aventurine feigns, the falsity of his hurt not affecting you at all.

“You…” You frown at him, and Aventurine kisses the crease of your eyebrows of your face, enjoying the way your cheeks flush the like burn of alcohol down one’s throat. “You're so insufferable.”

“Mhm, whatever helps you let out that ire of yours.” he looks at you like he would the most precious of ores, the most valuable of cards—Aventurine looks at you unabashedly, wholly, in affection.

“Will you ever let me be on time?”

“Would you ever let me stop loving you?” he presses a kiss to your palm, tender as his hand traces circles on your palm. Aventurine already knows the answer.

“Thats two completely different things.” you sigh, but it's exasperatedly fond, and Aventurine’s heart skips a beat. He finds his answer when you press a chaste kiss upon the edge of his mouth. “Don't answer a question with a question.”

“It's a great conversation tactic, though. And to answer your question, no, I don't think I will.”

“Kakavasha.” You warn. His name on your lips feels a little like salvation, and Aventurine feels a warm ache fill his stomach, blooming into something not so dissimilar to devotion.

With you, there is no Aventurine of Strategems, no Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts. All that remains is Kakavasha, one that loves you, and one that you love too.

Aventurine laughs, and the die is cast. “Let's make a bet then.”

“Ugh, not another one of those.” you groan, but you make no notion to refuse anyway.

“Sway my heart enough to let you go.” he smirks, cunning as ever. You roll your eyes, though it's nothing if not affectionate, determined glint shining in your eyes just like starlight.

“Oh, that's way too easy. Deal.”

Recently, he's come to a conclusion; Aventurine thinks that if it's with you, no gamble is worthier than this.

(With you, Aventurine is whole, and he is home.)

end notes im gonna kms i hate the ending like actually hate it this fic is the product of boundless hatred and the urge to never show it to the light ever but here i am

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[ingravinoveritas]

Lovely new article about Michael in Paste magazine. Article is behind a paywall, so here is a transcription (with thanks to the person on FB who transcribed it, and the parts in bold are my own emphasis).

There’s so much to love about Prime Video’s Good Omens. A delightful adaptation of the popular Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett novel of the same name, the series is romantic, thoughtful, hilarious, and heartfelt by turns. The story of the almost-apocalypse and what comes afterward, it wrestles with big concepts like destiny, free will, and forgiveness, all framed through the lens of an unorthodox relationship between an angel and a demon whose love for one another is a key to saving the world.

As anyone who has watched Good Omens already knows, nothing about this series works without the pair of lead performances at its center. Stars David Tennant and Michael Sheen—who play the demon Crowley and the angel Aziraphale, respectively—have the kind of lighting-in-a-bottle chemistry that’s the stuff of legend, and their characters’ every interaction conveys both their deep affection for one another and the Earth they’ve made their home. Their romance is the emotional linchpin around which most of the series turns, and their heartbreaking separation in the Season 2 finale is so devastating precisely because we’ve seen how necessary the two are to each other’s lives.

But it’s Sheen’s performance in that final scene that really twists the knife. As Aziraphale’s face crumples following his and Crowley’s long-awaited kiss, the actor manages to convey what feels like every possible human emotion in the span of less than thirty seconds as the angel realizes what he has both had and just lost. The moment is emotionally brutal to watch, particularly after sitting through five and a half episodes of Aziraphale looking as lovestruck as the lead in any rom-com. Sheen makes it all look effortless, shifting from giddy joy to devastated longing and everything in between, and we really don’t talk enough about how powerful and underrated his work in this series truly is.

Though he’s half of the central duo that makes Good Omens tick, Sheen’s role often tends to get overshadowed by his co-star’s. It’s not difficult to see why, given that Tennant gets to spend most of the show swanning around in tight trousers looking like the Platonic ideal of the charming bad boy, complete with flaming red hair and dramatic eyewear. Tennant also benefits from Crowley’s much more sympathetic emotional arc. I mean, it’s hard not to love a cynical demon with a heart of gold who’s been pining after his angelic best friend for literal millennia even after being cast out from Heaven. Of course, viewers are drawn to that—likely a lot more easily than the story of an angel who’s simply trying the best he can to do the right thing as he wrestles with his role in God’s Ineffable Plan. Plus, let’s be real, Tennant’s sizeable Doctor Who fanbase certainly doesn’t hurt his character’s popularity.

As a performer, Sheen has a long history of playing both real people (Tony Blair, David Frost, Brian Clough) and offbeat villains (Prodigal Son’s Martin Whitly, Underworld’s Lucian, the Twilight Saga’s Aro). In some ways, the role of a fussy, bookish angel is playing more than a bit against type for him—Gaiman himself has said he originally intended for Sheen to be Crowley—but in his capable hands, Aziraphale becomes something much more than a simple avatar for the forces of Good (or even of God, for that matter). With a soft demeanor and a positively blinding smile, Sheen’s take on the character consistently radiates warmth and goodness, even as it contains surprisingly hidden depths. The former guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden who gifted a fleeing Adam and Eve his flaming sword and befriended the Serpent who caused their Fall, Azirphale isn’t a particularly conventional angel. He enjoys all-too-human indulgences like food and wine, runs a Hoarders-esque bookshop that never seems to sell anything, and spends most of his time making heart eyes at the being that’s meant to be his hereditary adversary.

Given the much more difficult task of playing the literal angel to Tennant’s charming devil, Sheen must find a way to make ideas like goodness and forgiveness as interesting and fun to watch as their darker counterparts. It’s a generally thankless task, but one that Sheen tackles with gusto, particularly in the series’ second season, as Good Omens explores Aziraphale’s slowly evolving idea of what he can and cannot accept in terms of being a soldier of Heaven. His growing understanding that the truth of creation is colored in shades of grey and compromise is often conveyed through little more than Sheen’s deftly shifting expressions and body language.

Our pop culture consistently struggles to portray the idea of goodness as something compelling or worth watching. Explicitly “good” characters, particularly those who are religiously coded, are frequently treated as the butt of some sort of unspoken joke they aren’t in on, used to underline the idea that faith is a form of naivety or that kindness is somehow a weakness. For a lot of people, the entire concept of turning the other cheek is a sucker’s bet, and believing in something greater than oneself, be it a higher power or a sense of purpose, is a waste of time. But Good Omens is a story grounded in the idea that faith, hope, and love—for one another, God, and the entire world—are active verbs. And nowhere is that more apparent than in Sheen’s characterization of the soft angel whose old-fashioned waistcoats mask a spine of steel and who refuses to give up—on Crowley, on humanity, or on the idea that Heaven is still something that can be saved.

Though he and Tennant have pretty much become a matched set at this point (both on and off-screen), Sheen’s performance has rarely gotten the critical accolades it deserves. (Tennant alone was nominated for a BAFTA for Season 2, and Sheen was categorized as a supporting actor when the series’ competed in the 2019 Saturn Awards.) But it is his quiet strength that holds up so much of the rest of the show around him, and Sheen deserves to be more frequently recognized for it. That he makes it look so easy is just another sign of how good his performance really is.

I love this so much. The thoroughly well-deserved praise for Michael's incredible performance as Aziraphale, but also that Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is specifically described as a "romance." And of course, the first sentence of the last paragraph that acknowledges how much Michael and David are indeed a "matched set" that cannot (and should not) be separated...

[ailoda]

˚☽˚.⋆ favourite writers

@moonstruckme

@ellecdc

@luveline

@sunnami

@crescenthistory

@unconventional-lawnchair

@iamgonnagetyouback

˚☽˚.⋆ favourite fics

Someone You Loved - @bobluvbot

Your relationship with Sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget.

This was the first fic I thought of when compiling this list. Words truly can't explain the feelings that I have, but I'll do my best :) It's absolutely breathtaking in its emotional depth and storytelling finesse. From the very first line, it draws you into a world of tender vulnerability and aching love. It's so beautifully crafted and executed, with each scene building on the last to create a narrative that feels as natural as it is compelling. The pacing is also spot-on, giving the emotional beats the room to land while steadily moving the plot forward. And don't get me started on the storyline; it's so heartfelt and bittersweet, weaving themes of loss, healing, and love in a way the feels so deeply personal. It doesn't shy away from the complexities of emotions, instead embracing them fully to create a story that lingers with you long after you've finished reading (I say this after MONTHS of failing to get over this fic). One thing that makes it so captivating is the way it captures the quiet moments—the unsaid words, lingering touches—that speak volumes. Additionally, the characterisation is stunning. The emotions of the characters are so raw and real that you can't help but be swept up in their journey. The way Dani balances the pain and hope is truly masterful, creating a dynamic that feels authentic and deeply moving. It's in the smallest details—the expressions, the gestures, even the silences—that the characters truly come alive, making their emotions feel almost tangible. Overall, this fic is a masterpiece of quiet intensity. It's not just a story—it's an experience that grips you by the heart, breaks it, and then carefully stitches it back together. I can only pray to the heavens above that there is a part two.

The Way I See You - @g1rld1ary

You're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. They finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper.

Again, one of the first fics I thought of when compiling this list. It's a beautifully tender exploration of love, self-perception, and quiet acceptance. From the first moment, it captivates you, drawing you into a story that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable. The pacing is gentle yet purposeful, allowing each emotional beat to resonate fully while weaving together a narrative that keeps you wholly invested until the very last word. The storyline is a masterclass in subtlety and emotion, perfectly capturing the struggles of vulnerability and self-doubt while showing the transformative power of love (sappy, I know, but true). The way Gia is able to build the relationship is nothing short of magical (hehe)—it's not rushed or overly-dramatic but instead grows organically through meaningful conversations, thoughtful actions, and quiet moments of connection and vulnerability. Remus is portrayed with such depth and nuance that you can't help but fall in love with him, and the reader's perspective is equally as compelling, making their emotions feel raw and real. The dynamic between them is so beautifully balanced, filling with an unspoken understanding and a tenderness that feels comforting and inspiring. What I love most about this fic is its ability to convey so much through the little things—soft touches, lingering looks, and words that carry weight far beyond their surface meaning. It's a story that feels intimate and personal, like it was written just for you. It's the kind of fic that stays with you, a quiet reminder of how love can be a healing force. It’s heartfelt, gorgeously written, and brimming with the kind of warmth that makes you want to read it over and over again—which I have :)

We Can't Be Friends (wait for your love.) - @sunnami

A joke about Remus having cute kids gets away from you in the best way.

An absolute masterclass in the subtle tension and emotional complexity of a poly relationship. The slow-burn of this story is one of its greatest strengths, and the way it unfolds allows each of the Marauders to shine individually while also showing the deep connections between them. The alternating dynamics between the reader and each of the Marauders—whether it's the tenderness, the playful teasing, or the quiet understanding—feels organic and never forced. You get a real sense of their relationships with the reader, as well as the unique chemistry each character brings to the trio. The storyline itself is deeply emotional, masterfully exploring each character and their own fears and hesitations, but ultimately supporting one another. Not only that, but the pacing is flawless, allowing space for the characters to work through their doubts and understandings, making the eventual culmination of their feelings all the more satisfying. The emotional stakes of this fic are heightened by the poly dynamic, and it’s this aspect that gives the relationships such rich depth. The way the characters handle their growing feelings for each other—dealing with jealousy, communication, and discovering how their bond can work—feels real and raw. But what really stands out to me is how each Marauder’s unique traits complement the others. Whether it’s James’ boldness, Sirius’ charm, or Remus’ quiet understanding, their interactions are electric, and you can feel the genuine affection they have for one another. There’s a sweetness to how they come together, each step in their journey feeling more intimate and grounded in trust and understanding. The ending is the perfect balance of emotional payoff and hope. It captures the essence of relationships—complex, imperfect, but filled with love—and leaves you with a sense of warmth and contentment. I re-read this fic so many times it's unhealthy.

Bless the Telephone - @777heavengirl

James Potter is positively useless with muggle technology, doesn't matter how much Remus tries to teach him, James cannot seem to grasp it— even the telephone. It’s not so bad though— At least he met you

This series is just an absolute gem—sweet, nostalgic, and just brimming with charm. It's barely just begun, but I'm so excited to read what's next! It strikes the perfect balance between lighthearted fun and deeper, emotional beats, creating a story that feels complete yet leaves you wanting more. Every interaction feels meaningful, whether it’s the playful banter that leaves you grinning, or the quieter moments of vulnerability that tug at your heartstrings. James Potter as a character is written to perfection; his charisma practically leaps off the page, but it's his softer, more tender side that truly shines. His and the reader's dynamic is so well-crafted that you can't help but root for them from the start. What I love most about it is how effortlessly it captures the warmth and excitement of falling in love. It's the little moments—the playful teasing, the stolen moments and unspoken emotions—that make it feel so real and relatable. It feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket.

You Woke Me Up For This? - @crescenthistory

Barty is bored in the middle of the night, so of course he goes to you.

Carina is a favourite for a reason—showcased by how difficult it was to choose only one fic. But this fic is an absolute delight— a perfect mix of humour, tenderness, and moments to give you butterflies. It's sharp and intentional, with a pacing that keeps you engaged from start to finish. Each scene is crafted so well, creating a soft and seamless flow that pulls you into the story while allowing the humour, emotion, and vulnerability to shine. The storyline is simple but so brilliantly executed; thriving on the charm of its characters and the intimate hilarity of their interactions, building a warm undercurrent of affection. What I adore about and serves as a testament to Carina's writing ability is the way it turns a seemingly mundane situation into something so endearingly extraordinary, layering humour and and heart in a way that feels both naturally and deeply satisfying. It has many strengths, but one of the fic's greatest is its character dynamics. The banter is somehow sharp and witty while perfectly balancing with the moments of genuine vulnerability that catch you off guard in the best way. The dialogue also feels so alive in a way that it manages to capture the personalities of the characters so vividly that you can practically hear their voices and guess their next reaction. What truly sets it apart is how it manages to intertwine the comedic and the heartfelt so seamlessly. The humour serves it's purpose masterfully without undermining the emotion, and the tender moments never feel out of place amidst the humour. It's a story that leaves you smiling—not only because it's funny, but because it's brimming with an endearing warmth and charm.

Morose Manatees - @ellecdc

James is told to leave barty x potter!reader alone.

Difficult to choose only one from Elle, but it has to be a Barty one for me, and this one is my favourite. It's a perfect mix of humour, affection, and heartwarming emotional beats, all centred around an unlikely yet perfect pairing. It moves so seamlessly between lighthearted banter and deeper, meaningful conversations while keeping the tone playful and engaging. What I love is how the dialogue showcases the character's personalities and quirks so effortlessly, especially the way they interact with each other—light, teasing, yet full of care. The storyline itself is full of charm and unexpected sweetness. The absurdity of the manatee discussion serves as a perfect backdrop for showcasing the growing affection between Barty and the reader, and as a wider representation of their relationship as a whole. James' perspective adds an extra layer of humour, with his frustration and eventual reluctant acceptance adding a perfect contrast to the lovey-dovey moments between Barty and the reader. The interactions between James and Regulus are just as compelling, with Regulus providing the right balance of humour and emotional depth as he offers his candid observations on love and loyalty—almost like a reflection of reader and Barty. What makes this fic so special is the way it portrays love—quiet, patient, and tender (the kind of love I want). Barty’s devotion to the reader is so evident, and the fic never shies away from showing how truly devoted he is, even in the smallest gestures. Whether it’s holding hands, softly kissing knuckles, or engaging in a bizarre but sweet conversation about aquatic creatures, the emotional connection between them is palpable and heartwarming. An adorable representation of tender love that leaves you smiling and wishing for your own Barty.

A Christmas Special - @moonstruckme

After Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you.

You cannot have a Marauders 2024 favourites list without including Mae, it's just which one to choose! I'm settled and happy with my choice—one that represents Mae's writing brilliantly. Now, where do I begin with this fic? It's pure magic. What truly stands out is the narrative flow—it feels like one big scene as each one flows seamlessly into the next, which creates this beautiful narrative that feels cohesive yet dynamic. Not only that, but the pacing is masterful, giving the moments of quiet intimacy the room to breathe while keeping the plot moving forward so brilliantly. Similarly, the storyline itself is a beautiful blend of festive fluff and heartfelt emotion. It balances that carefree happiness with deeper, more personal connections, making each interaction feel layered and meaningful. But Mae's attention to subtle intimacy and overall detail is what makes this story truly shine. From the small gestures that speak volumes to the way the setting is described with such vividness and clarity, it feels as though you're in the story with them. What I love most, however, is how the character's dynamics are brought to life and feel more than words on a page. Their chemistry radiates—not in a forced or overly-dramatic way, but through the kind of subtle, unspoken moments that leave you smiling and kicking your feet like an idiot. There's a particular sweetness in how the characters navigate their feelings, blending playful banter with quiet and tender vulnerability that is written so excellently it feels like you're moving along with them. All of Mae's skills I feel are fully encapsulated in this one fic—to the point where I've just barely scratched the surface as to why I love it so much (I could write an essay with references and everything), but I think I've put my point across enough for now :)

[miruac]

dating kozume kenma headcanons - part 2

masterlist

navigation

warnings: not proofread, movie and timeskip spoilers, very self indulgent

a/n: EHEHEHEHEH I LOVE MY INTROVERTED GAMER BABY | word vomit. this is just pure word vomit.

during nationals when they were away, kenma always texted you before and after a game(kinda shocking since he's dry asl)

he would be a little clingy, especially when he was sleepy since he had no filter then

but he literally like slept so late there...(THAT ONE SCENE OF HIM WAKING UP WITH BEDHEAD <3)

before their match with karasuno, he sent you a gif of a happy dancing cat(it was him trying to convey emotion)

after the match, he sent you a text that read 'i guess i'm coming home'

which made you happy he was coming back, but also sad that they lost

right when they got back home, you went over to his house to give him some congratulatory apple pie and cuddles

obviously he got a fever and was literally bedridden for a couple of days, so you had to wait a little while before seeing the poor boy

but when you did, he was still a little sick so he just clung onto you(

when he's sleepy, i headcanon he likes his hair to be played with and when you do it he just falls asleep

timeskip to the future, and its been like what, 7 years? you've moved in with him into his house, and it's pretty casual at this point

he always comes to bed late since he stays up on stream, and he ends up waking up so late

but before you go to bed, he's almost always taking a break from his stream to kiss you goodnight

sometimes if you're feeling clingy AND sleepy, he'll let you sit on his lap and sleep there while he's on stream

guys everyone writes kenma as if he's someone who's lazy as hell, and cant cook

BUT NOT ME!!! i know kenma can cook because he isn't that self-negligent, like if he moved out by himself then surely he knows how to somewhat provide for himself

he doesn't cook much because he doesn't like how much effort it takes, but when he cooks its kinda fire

you guys alternate, but its usually you cooking

i know he doesn't eat much canonly but loves seeing you in the kitchen its so domestic

when you catch him staring his lil bitch ass smirks at you and is like 'you look good in my kitchen.'

EPHASIS ON "MY KITCHEN" LIKE AODJSAOLDJASJDL

guys stop he's so cute when hes posessive

SPEAKING OF POSESSIVENESS OMG

ok now kenma's posessiveness varies from day to day

if he sees another guy with you, he doesn't rage immediately but when he sees them holding you in a way how he does? that's when he slides between you guys and takes you back

but also sometimes when you're about to go out in revealing clothes, he gets all pouty and clingy

he doesn't let go of you and looks up you with such pleading eyes(im so weak. im so weak for him omg)

guys he ALWAYS goes to pick you up himself

most likely he's going to bed by the time youre done, he can spare a couple minutes getting you

and plus i know he may not act like it, but your safety is like one of his top priorities

especially since you're the partner of a famous streamer, he does his best to make you comfortable

whether that's having you sit out of frame when he's on stream, or keeping you hidden

the media's really mean, and he'd do anything to prevent you from seeing or witnessing something hurtful just because you're dating him

he takes all the necessary precautions he knows of, and always tries to keep your identity anonymous

but when you felt comfortable enough, you slowly started to creep into his streams

at first it would just be a hand popping into frame, to you literally napping on his lap while he streamed

he told his fans that he was taken before and they thought he was lying, but since they've seen you they're amazed that he actually pulled

overall, his audience loves you and they literally see how kenma lights up when he looks at you

like his eyes are so soft and glassy and hazed with love(im gonna cry. why isn't he real. please i want him so bad)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

2nd a/n: guys this is literally not proofread this is such shit work like im not even processing these thoughts in my brain IM LITERALLY JUST WORD VOMITTING RN ok im done thank you for listening to my ted talk GOODNIGHT

[wato1876]

wato im halfway thru parrots unstable vid and the way you left actually hit me so hard. ARGHAGAGRG

everyone else acting: yeah, I don't know if this is it... wato1876: *on the verge of tears, staring at Wifies, "always have a way out"*

you make me sick /pos

I’m glad you enjoyed my amateur voice acting! Everyone puts in a lot of effort, I just find it very easy to put emotion in my words, and its fun, it adds depth to an otherwise very high octane. Disappointment is very common in unstable and that tone is heard a lot, but Wato wasn’t sad because *they themself* didn’t have a way out, yes they wanted to be safe, but essentially their entire world was crumbling around them, all their friends went every which way. Wato may have a hard outer shell, and extremely blunt, but what hurts more is seeing someone who cares so genuinely much about something being ripped at one by one. If Wato was the first to go, it wouldn’t have been as bad, but seeing everyone leave before him sunk him deeper and deeper into pain. The idea of Parrot seeing his final hope seep through his hands and the devastation he must feel really is what broke Wato.

I have experienced things like this IRL (obviously not as severe, but the sensation you get leaving high-school for the very last time, and standing alone as the field slowly clears for the very last time). I react the way I do because my character has a lot of empathy (the point it hurts him emotionally), and understands why people do things they do. Wemmbu abandoning Sky Civ -> He wants to save himself and truly didn’t care if it meant risking himself. Wifies leave Parrot last episode when going to Farlands -> He just wanted what was best for Parrot since he too saw Parrot ripping himself apart.

Wato secluded himself for so long because he knew he was susceptible to being hurt, and he knows having friends/attachments is a weakness. He knows they are but still cares about people. I tried to show Wato as a dynamic character that changes throughout the videos and reacts how any normal human would. Confused and scared. Not every line is perfect and every action won’t make full sense, but when have we- humans- been perfect.

I like the humanity in a character, the imperfections. That is what makes a good character. Not their tragic downfall, but just the limits of a being.

If I had a beefier computer, I’d make something insane. Editing speed because of lag is my only bottleneck. I love stories, always have. This is just a small slice of stories I want to convey. Even End Barrens was not to what I wanted it to be.

Wato1876

Thought I should at-least give y’all one big character lore drop before I go to bed for the night. What can I say, writing is fun.

[lurkingshan]

What are your favorite examples of deep unbridled yearning in a bl? I think my is I told the sunset about you the way they used the coconut smell to showcase one the leads feelings for the other was so unique and sensual. He starts out hating coconut and how it smells but slowly as he falls in love he becomes obsessed with it since it's the other MLs unique scent and he uses it on everything, so we get a scene of him inhaling a paper written by the MLs coconut pen and then another one just devouring a coconut like it's the best thing in earth. I don't think I have ever seen such a depiction of attraction/love/lust that's so different but also visceral and beautiful and it really stuck with me. It's very different but it's one of the rare romance things that I'll never forget akin to the hand flex from pride and prejudice.

So you want to talk about yearning.

*Lan Wangji has entered the chat*

There’s a lot of good yearning in the romance genre, and plenty of bls feature it. The example you gave from ITSAY is definitely one of the standouts in terms of how visceral it felt. I will never forget Teh shoving his whole face into that coconut, or all the super charged scenes where he and Oh-aew stare at and touch each other and keep testing boundaries until they break.

There are definitely other expressions of yearning that stick out for me for one reason or another, and not all in this same tone.

The Untamed

Let’s get this out of the way upfront, because no one can step to this man on yearning. He adopted a whole child and named him after his yearning for his lost love. What I love about the presentation of Lan Wangji's particular flavor of yearning is how steady and matter of fact it is. He is always yearning for Wei Wuxian and it's just a part of who he is, whether his love is alive or dead. And while I love that Teh is such a big mess of emotions, I also like this more understated flavor of yearning where nothing is ever said out loud but Lan Wangji's feelings are clear in how he chooses to live his life. He's the poster boy for "actions speak louder than words."

Eternal Yesterday

I'm not sure if you've seen this one, but it's one of the most poignant and devastating depictions of yearning I have ever seen. Mitsuru yearned for Koichi so hard that he kept his body alive for precious extra days and his memory alive forever. Brb gonna go cry.

Utsukushii Kare 2

This is probably one of the more unique expressions of the emotion (on brand for this series), since this sequel season has Kiyoi yearning for the man who is already his boyfriend to love him for real instead of idolizing and holding him from a distance. It's one of my favorite explorations of how lonely we can feel even while in a relationship.

I Cannot Reach You

This show wins for best visual effects to convey yearning, with a beautiful bokeh effect taking over the screen in moments when the characters were extra in their feelings over each other.

Unknown

Wei Yuan's yearning was more of the desperate and hopeless variety, especially in his teens years when he knew his feelings for his adoptive older brother were impossible. I liked that his feelings were expressed via caretaking; he didn't think he could have the relationship he really wanted with Wei Qian, so he made it his mission to take care of him and help shoulder his burdens instead.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

This story stands out in my memory for its dedication to anticipatory yearning. That is, knowing a separation is coming against your will and yearning desperately for the person who is still in front of you. Yai and Jom did not want to let each other go despite knowing they could not stay together, and that yearning was so strong it ultimately connected them through time.

Theory of Love

And on the comedic end of the spectrum, I absolutely cannot end this list without giving a shoutout to one of the funniest manifestations of yearning that has ever graced my screen. Every time his feelings for Khai got overwhelming, Third ran to the bathroom for a Sadness Shower, and if the water wasn't working he was happy to improvise (and now I am cackling).

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Rose Recaps 2024 - Korea [ Thailand | Japan ]

Starting my list of favourite shows with Korea. They gave us so much angst, and some of them I still haven't fully been able to shake. Let's go.

The one with the existential dread

Love For Love's Sake

I was not ready. Not that I think there was a way I would be, but still. I was floored. It was an ambitious concept but executed pretty much flawlessly. If they had a bit more time, I think the world building could've benefited a little, cause there were parts that felt a bit rushed but overall the themes were well conveyed throughout. This show can be interpreted in a variety of ways, and one can take from it different things. For so much of this show I was filled with anxiety and sadness, but by the end the overall message of self love healed a small part of me. The visuals were strong and the actors did a wonderful job.

Favourite Moment:

Obvious perhaps, but no one can deny the beauty of this moment. Just the pure relief and joy I felt, made it one of my favourites of the year.

The one with all the yearning

The Time of Fever

I was so normal about this show. First let me just say, that I don't think of this show as a prequel. I know it is one, but I prefer to think of it as its own thing. This show drove me crazy. I suffered through it twice, and I kept finding new things that drove me insane. The yearning, the pining, the love these two have for each other that can only be rivalled by the fear they both share. Hotae is afraid of his feelings, because he can't understand them or can't accept them, but he also can't resist the pull. Donghee is afraid because he does understand, but he also knows what it means, so he needs to protect his friend from all the ugliness he himself has endured. And the actors just portrait these emotions so well. Truly some of the best acting I've seen this year. The camera work is outstanding, the framing always intentional and the lighting is good enough to break your heart.

Favourite Moment:

The heater between them??? Incredible. I'm still in awe of this whole scene. From the feeding of the orange slice to the kiss itself and their body language right to their expressions at the end. It was a flawless scene.

The one with all the trauma

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Every week I was filled with excitement and dread waiting for new episodes. It was a painful journey for them and for me. Such a raw depiction of how trauma follows you long after you left the place where you endured it behind you. Closure is such an overused word, because it always sounds like there's a switch you can flip, and you're fine. Like it's that simple. The way Dohoe carried all of the abuse with him, how he shaped his life around it unconsciously, all along believing he was healing himself, it was heartbreaking to watch. And JuYeong. The boy who waited. The boy who understood and gave him the space to heal. Time stopped for 12 years for both of them. But they have a lifetime left to heal together and find happiness in the simple act of loving and being loved by each other.

Favourite Moment:

The symbolism destroyed me. The cross, the wall, the confession. Masterful.

The one that wasn't like the others

Love In The Big City

I don't even know what to say any more. It was an amazing adaption. Stellar acting, great script, gorgeous visuals. It's messy and it all feels so real. Young is one of my favourite characters of all time, both the one from the book and the one from the series. I wanted to hug him and hit him over the head at several points. I did appreciate the bigger presence of the T-aras, it left me more hopeful than the novel. I'm still not over the break up though.

Favourite Moment:

The honesty, the unconditional acceptance. To watch Young experience it for the first time was overwhelming.

Honourable mention to Boys Be Brave that I adored. And the only reason is not in this list is because of the second couple. They needed more time, and even with the time they had I thought the writing of that storyline was a bit messy. But I loved the mains.

Be back soon with the next one. Maybe💜

[hallowpen]

I'm going to try my best to get through this without making myself emotional... even though, I know, I will fail miserably.

I really want to focus on the symbolism and language used in this episode, which means pointing out some differences between the Thai language vs. the English subtitles... otherwise the cultural meanings don't really come through as obviously.

It's important that we go into this episode with a Thai lens... specifically one that is influenced by the time period and its royal customs. Please keep that in mind as I discuss certain scenes and characters.

The word that Princess Patt uses for 'engagement ring' is แหวนแทนใจ (pronounced 'waen taen jai'). While it absolutely could be used interchangeably, I would personally translate it to mean what we would call a 'promise ring' in English... which is considered in Thai culture to be a pre-engagement ring.

I've spoken before about how Prik helping to facilitate the relationship between Anil and Pin could have severe consequence. Princess Patt is clever in the way she gathers information from Prik, but Prik cannot lie once she is found out... and her status as a servant to those ranked above her has never been more clear.

The language used in these two scenes, in particular, is super important!!!

Both Princess Patt and Lady Pin speak very formally toward one another to indicate the seriousness of their conversation. You will have heard Patt address Pin as "Khun Ying" (คุณหญิง) and Pin address Patt as "Than Ah" (ท่านอา).*

The word ปล่อยตัว (pronounced 'ploi tuua'), which Princess Patt uses to describe Pin's actions... In this context, means 'unrestrained' with the implication of being promiscuous. Pin calls herself ชั่วช้า (pronounced 'chua-chaa') which means 'immoral/sinful' as pertaining to going against the precepts of Buddhism... in this case, exhibiting sexual misconduct.

The actual Thai translation of Princess Patt's third line is "I wished for you to grow up elegantly as a lady should be."

A lot of Patt's dialogue can be read as telling Pin to 'know her place' and to 'know better'. But it's also significant to note her emotional reaction and her tone... because what she is telling Pin could, very well, come from a place of having lived through her own 'karmic punishment' for the feelings she held for Princess Im. We can see how Patt would be led to believe that coveting and loving another woman who does not rightfully belong to you is 'immoral' and would, therefore, end in karmic tragedy.

This leads right into:

Again the English translation is a little off here. Princess Patt says

"Is the person you love someone you'll ever be able to hold onto? Have you forgotten who she is? Most importantly, she is a woman, no different from you."

Another mistranslation: When Pin is forbidden from seeing Anil, she pleads with Princess Patt to "Please, have mercy on me." Pin has always been agreeable to the rules and discipline set out for her. She has never once asked for special favor... until now. Pin prostrating at Princess Patt's feet is sooo significant; that Pin would rather beg to never be separated from Anil than to simply accept her aunt's order speaks volumes. Because while it may seem as an act of submission, it's Pin's way of conveying how much Anil truly means to her.

This scene 😭😭😭 Prik addresses Pin as คุณหญิงเจ้าคะ (pronounced 'khun ying jao ka').* It is the first time we see Prik use entirely formal language with Pin... to add to the sincerity behind her apology.

It's also key to note that Pin takes the brunt of the blame for being 'reckless', because we are going to talk about that...

...in Part Two! So much happened in this episode, so I had to split it up.

*If you need to brush up on royal language terminology, you can go back to my post about episode one

[necromosss]

Saying this in best way possible.

I envy on how you can convey everything wonderfully with only sketches yet it feels like a finished piece. I envy you not because I think my art is bad but more because of my perfectionist mind forced me to fleshed everything out before it deemed "post worthy" one day I want to improve and be more confident with my sketch just like you so I won't physically strain myself by making everything I made as polished as possible.

This might come as me also venting, (but!) this ask made me.... think.

Believe it or not, anon, what you envied of me is actually one of the biggest insecurities i have as an artist. I really think I should have put more effort to finish my works, but it just feel off whenever I did :")

Anyways!

It's totally alright to take time for your art! But if you do want to try to be confident with your sketch more, I'd suggest......to think that nobody cares.

This.... might be a bad advice and a bad way to see your own artworks, but these are what I kept telling myself:

Nobody would care if I had/hadn't finish or perfect this. Nobody will point it out anyway. No one ever did.

To me this looks clear enough. Readable enough. If my dumbass brain can understand it, so can everyone else.

Does this sketch sets the mood/feeling/intensity enough? If it doesnt then its time to rely on splashing some colors

If they like this messy excuse of an art then good for them and if not? Well at least my thoughts are already put OUT there and not kept locked inside. Like breathing a fresh air.

And thats that. I hope you can feel more comfortable with your sketches soon🫶 OH and thank you, anon🥹💖

Sad thoughts/vent part below cut. Not necessarily connected to answer anon!! (just me pouring my own feelings/thoughts out!)

I... really enjoy just putting out my thoughts emotions and ideas via my sketches but at the same time, it kept made me question myself if I—as an artist—was ever worth all this attention when I couldn't even deliver something "finished." Hells, even when I did a finished, rendered art, it never made an impression as close to equal sd my "stupid doodles" does.

I feel like i perform and deliver better using rough sketches because I love to emphasize the rawness of gestures and emotions that raw sketches provide. But nobody around me thinks so. Because it's like im not done yet.

I didn't know my place. Nobody around me (in my local indo artist communities) preferred my works because there's always someone out there with a more polished & pretty art. Mine is... just never seem to look finished. I always look like i... underperformed.

So what Im trying to say is. Maybe we have our own strengths and weaknesses. Whats important is that we find out own comfortable paces and methods. And that is still a long heck of an artist journey that i myself still need to discover.

[hello-vampire-kitty]

Servamp chapter 136 translation "The gentle flutter of a butterfly's wings"

Read the chapter on Mangadex!

Keep reading for translation notes.

Oh boy, this chapter had some difficult lines that took me a while to translate and hopefully I managed to convey them ;;

Alright, to start off, I want to point out that in the top left panel, Hokaze is holding the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, so if you know the plot of the story, you can make connections with her. Also, regarding her name...It's sounds weird for her because she's a woman. I looked up Hokaze (歩風) on Japanese names sites and it was listed for boys, while the readings Ayuka or Honoka were listed for girls.

Well, if Tanaka-sensei hasn't mentioned so far that it wasn't a mistake, then her name is Hokaze.

In Japanese, 情欲 and 色欲 mean lust the latter is the one used regarding Lily, however they have different nuances. Basically, the former implies a desire for emotional attachment as opposed to 色欲 that is focused on the physical aspects of attraction, without necessarily implying emotional attachment.

As you can see in the translation, the intended reading is 私 (I, myself) while the other reading is 色欲 (lust).

愛のない情欲のことだけを私 (色欲) の名前で呼ぶのでしょうから。

I had the most trouble with this page, like OMG...

Lily had some difficult lines and it's possible that I haven't conveyed them to well, thus I will give insight on how I understood them. Here's the original line 人は美しい時間のままに死にゆく。 それだけがいい。

I don't like to assume things. I try my best to convey what characters say and of course I rely on the grammar that is used so that's why it was difficult to interpret the above line which I ultimately translated as "People dying while they are still beautiful...That alone is a good thing"

A direct translation would be "People will die in a beautiful time" which sounded weird...Like I said, maybe my interpretation isn't good and I wanted to add "should" because Lily's is giving his opinions and I thought it will work but I if it's not suggested by the grammar, I couldn't do that. If you look at the first line on this page where "should" is there because that's how a grammar part translates.

So yeah, it was tough working on this line seeing how it can be interpreted...

Sloth uses words that have alternative meanings. When he says "This makes us even", the other reading is fire. "We should have a discussion after all". The other reading is "fighting" and Sloth also said this in chapter 133.

There is one word with another reading in Tsubaki's first line which I found that it has the meaning of "older sibling" although it's usually translated as head or neck 首 (kubi) My assumption is that Tsubaki used 首 with the connotation of "older sibling" because it reflects how he was born in the Edo period (revealed in later chapters), so he's using an archaic term. The intended reading is もの which means "object" and one theory I have about the other reading is related to the camellia flowers that are said to be associated with a head that is cut off because when they wither, the flowers fall at once.

The last note is about Tsubaki's skill which is difficult to interpret its meaning ;;

I translated it as "Crossing".

The Japanese word 渡 comes from the verb 渡す that has the general meaning of "to hand over/deliver but there is also the meaning of "to transport", "to carry across". While it can be translated in several ways, I like the translation I made and I found that the verb is used "to say a requiem" 引導を渡す I'd say it connects with his ability "Shura Funeral". This term originally refers to a ritual or ceremony in Buddhism called "引導供養" (indou kuyou), where a deceased person's spirit is guided to the afterlife. So yeah, let me know what you think. I'd like to hear your opinions and I hope these notes are helpful!