#I know I could scroll up and reread what I said but I won't

[dogswest]

thinking about this one bitch who said she didn't like my bf because he was just weird and quiet. I was like "I mean hes autistic too, he cant rlly help it" and this actual bafoon goes "I'm autistic but I'm not like that" ... no girl... I am NOT gonna be the one to tell u there a spectrum, aint NO WAY u just said that.

[lynnlovesthestars]

The sun, the moon and the stars.

Pairing: Astarion x reader.

Synopsis: with the solution in your hands, you give back Astarion all he has lost.

Genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, kinda smut but not graphic?

Warnings: mentions of insecurities and self doubt, mention of past abuse, death. Extra warning: Astarion being so loving and caring. Tav/reader taking risks for Astarion. Post act 3.

WC: 5k

Alternate name: Curses, Undead, Deseases.

Author's note: Hello everyone, before i posted "One and only" I didn't expect it to be loved so much, but after seeing the love it received, I took it to my heart to grant your wish. So here it is, the part two of One and Only, which I'll link down here.

One and Only.

Taglist: @skittleabyss

Cure for vampirism: kill and resurrect the vampire with a scroll of true resurrection or, use a scroll of wish and hope you won't fuck it up.

Finally the scroll was in your hands, the legendary wish.

The great Mordenkainen spoke plenty of this spell, the inevitable results of using it and the power it held.

The risks were great, like being sick and weak for weeks, and the chance you might never be able to cast the spell ever again. It was a one shot enchantment, and you would have done it in a heartbeat if it meant your Astarion would be free from vampirism, even if it meant not being able to control the weave ever again.

You were all on the floor, weighing the situation while you read and reread the spell.

Astarion sat next to you, his hands shaking as he kneaded your thigh. The adrenaline from the fight was still cursing through your bodies, even though you were all eagerly to get over with this, you knew that it'd be better to cast the spell in the safety of your home, where you could rest right away.

Gale spent the whole trip explaining the hows and whats of the spell, especially the risks, trying to remind you that there could have been other ways. nevertheless your mind was set. You would risk it all for Astarion.

Everyone scattered around the living room, tea cups were all over the place to ease everyone's nerves as you mentally repeated what you were going to ask.

Shadowheart protected your home, making sure you could feel safe as you rested afterwards.

Wyll was sitting close to you, in case you would pass out and needed to be carried to bed.

Gale was reading and rereading Mordenkainen's tome to make sure there was no trap.

Karlach was trying to cheer everyone up, offering hugs to everyone.

When she planted herself in front of Astarion, ready to beg him to be hugged, he took her by surprise.

He was shaking ever so slightly, the pure anxiety was ebbing through his veins, he was not going to back away from an hug.

"Can you stay next to me? I trust you" He smiled weakly as she squealed happily.

"Of course" She beamed. She took the spot next to Astarion and opened her arms to wrap the pale elf's body in her warm embrace.

When you finally raised your eyes, ready to cast the wish, you locked eyes with everyone one at a time.

All your friends were gathered there because they loved you and Astarion, and were not going to miss the moment. Even Lae'zel was uncharacteristically sweet, even in her harsh and bitter words. "Tck, you better not come back as a zombie, cause I don't know what zombies need" She scoffed. "And you already reeked like this, I can't stand zombie stench at all". She said scrunching her nose.

You took a long breath and lastly locked eyes with Astarion, exchanging a nod as the silence fell around you.

The knot in your throat was tight, your words almost were strangled out of your lips.

"I wish.." You could feel the air being knocked out of your chest. "That Astarion Acunin" the words wrapped around your throat tightly, the magic vividly ebbing from your body for everyone to see. "Could be" The soft blue-purple glow flowing out of your body, wrapped around Astarion's throat, making him breath harder. "Cured.." You felt the word drain you almost completely. "From vampirism and" You breaths were heavy, worry in everyone's eyes while you didn't stop. "Could live his life as elf" You were shaking, threatening to hit the ground, but no one had to intervene, you had to endure it all alone, for him.

"Like before being turned" As you spoke the last word, the magic that was holding you in a chokehold suddenly released you. The magical flow disappeared in Astarion as you fell to the ground, and him with you.

Everyone scrambled around the room, checking for pulses and bringing you to your shared bed.

They tucked you under the comforter, as they planned turns to take care of you both.

They didn't know how long it would take for you to wake again, but they concentrated on things they had power to do.

Your body was heavy with an inexplicable tiredness. Your eyelids felt like bricks as you fought to open them.

The soft light of the sunrise filtered through the curtains of the room, almost blinding you for a moment.

You were in your bed, tucked in and warm. An arm was wrapped around your waist protectively as you could hear the faint chatting coming from the other rooms.

You turned to look around you,then it hit you.

The arm around you, it was warm. The complexion was still pale, yet it looked like it was almost a very faint shade of pink.

You almost jolted up, if it wasn't for your limbs, that grounded you, startling the sleeping Astarion next to you.

He gasped as he awoke suddenly, his eyes squeezing for a moment before opening wide at the realization that you were awake.

He didn't change much, his body at the end of the day was mostly the same, if not for the color that he regained.

His hair was a mess from sleep, the soft white curls were all over the place, untamed. His cheeks, nose and lips were warm with a pinkish blush, and his eyes.

Oh his beautiful scarlet eyes were still there, but softer. A shade that was more pinkish blue, than red. A color so soft that swirled peacefully. His canines were still slightly vampiresque, but way duller than before.

And when you leaned in his arms, you could feel it. His heartbeat, fast in the beginning, probably from the scare, but then rhythmic as it calmed down.

Astarion's arms wrapped around you, pushing you tightly against him as he sunk back in the comfort of the bed.

Your eyes filled with tears, before you could even process the elf in front of you.

"We did it" You sobbed in his tight embrace, relishing the newfound warmth.

"No my love.." He whispered as his own eyes were teary, threatening to spill any second. "You did it" He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. "You cured me and I will be forever grateful for this gift" He lulled you, gently tapping his fingers on your skin.

You sobbed harder, your arms wrapping around him as well as you allowed the realization to completely hit you.

You weren't quite sure what day it was, or how long Astarion has been cradling you close to him, but you didn't care anymore.

Only when you finally regained a bit of your control, your head started filling with questions.

"How long have i been out?" You asked, before yawning.

"So.. if i did the math correctly" He counted on his fingers before beaming. "You sleep for a whole week. I fed you and hydrated you as you rested. The wish literally drained you" He gently raised your chin to look at you, a tender smile spread over his face, along with the warmth of a blush.

He took in your beauty, gently tracing the tip of your pointed ear to your cheek, resting his palm on it.

Your body chased the warmth of his touch, leaning into it.

"How long were you asleep instead?" You asked as your body was melting.

"The thing is, I didn't sleep" He shrugged. "Gale gave me a long and boring explanation of what happened, but I'm going to take out all the useless informations he added" He explained, waving his hand in the air. You couldn't help but snort at the remark.

"Anyway, making it quick, you killed me" He blurted out, making you jolt up confused, your mouth hung open and your index finger pointed up as you were about to ask something. Then you curled back your fingers and closed your mouth, thoughtful.

"Basically the cure for vampirism involves killing the vampire and using true resurrection on the body or soul" In a way it made sense, cause a vampire is a dead person turned into undead, reason why restoration spells and curing curses wouldn't be effective. You didn't have to remove a disease either, but revert the body back to its original form. And the only way was true resurrection.

"Oh, cause the spell would be able to bind your soul back to your body completely, reversing death instead of just raising you as undead as vampirism does" You whisper shouted as you connected the dots. "But your death was way past 200 years ago" You remembered.

"I'm glad you remembered how long it's been since my first death" He tucked a stray hair behind his ear. "But apparently that's where the wish spell comes in aid" He kissed the top of your nose.

"It erased the time clause from the spell, since it was a wish" He smiled.

"Mhmh makes sense" You whispered as you tapped a finger on your chin and slowly eased again in the silence.

There was so much you wanted to say in that moment, like the fine print of the spell, whether he could already walk in the sun freely now, how did he feel, and so many more questions about this new story you were going to start together, but your body started growing heavy and thick again, drawing you back in your sleep, but this time you were lulled by Astarion's steady heartbeat.

Hours later you woke up still in Astarion’s lap, though now he was using a magic hand to read a book that you couldn’t quite recognize.

“That’s a very smart use of a magic hand” You stretched your arms, squinted and yawned loudly.

“It is, and this book has been very enlightening as well” He flips pages quickly, getting back to one that had a bookmark.

“Really?” You asked mindlessly as you rested your head on his shoulder.

He nodded, skimming through the page looking for a specific paragraph.

“I always wondered why you choose to sleep every night, aren’t you bothered by the weird dreams?” He asked. He never thought about it until he started reading this guide he found with the wish scroll. It was a book by Mordenkainen himself which spoke of his studies of all the races he encountered. He picked it up to read about what he missed through the decades about his culture and habits, just in case elves grew a new horn at a certain age or something. Dying so young, really cut off a huge chunk of his youth. At the time he was still considered young by his family, he was looking forward to that 100 birthday so much. At least he was glad he kept his youngish self for a little longer than his peers. if that really mattered.

“Mh, no I like them” You mumbled, another yawn escaping between one word and the other. “I found meditating boring, what even is the point of relieving past experiences when most of the memories are negative?” You shrugged, slowly stretching your legs.

“I never thought about that” He was definitely contemplating ditching meditation, if he had to see less of the memories, and more of.. anything but that. He usually slept when you happened to fall asleep next to him, or while you were traveling, and everyone would take their sweet time in the morning. He didn’t need to be up for 8 hours so why not just sleep, he always thought.

“You should do it more often” You smiled at him as you crawled out of his embrace, already missing the warmth of his chest, but you needed something to eat, a whole week asleep really took a toll on your stomach.

The house was still crawling with friends lounging all over, even withers found a corner for himself, in case a resurrection was needed, funny since the conditions of this party, you thought.

Whoever allowed Gale in your kitchen would pay the price. You walked slowly towards the chair in the kitchen, making sure you could hold on to the wall, in case your body decided to be too tired to move.

Gale didn't notice you joined until he turned and unexpectedly saw you sat with your arms crossed, staring stoically at him.

The most satisfying part? The squeal he let out, though it didn't last long. In an instant he was next to you handing you a glass of water.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he sat in front of you, playing with a peanut he got from your nuts basket.

"Groggy" you mumbled. "Tired" You took your time stretching a little more. "It truly drained me" You leaned on the table wondering what to fill your stomach with.

"I cannot even imagine" He patted your back. "Though actually i could since the netherese orb whole ordeal" He mumbled.

"The price a man must pay to seduce a goddess" You rolled your eyes jokingly.

"Ehy, if you knew Mystra, you'd do the same" He poked your shoulder before handing you a fruit that was laying nearby.

You rose from the table, taking a bite from the apple he gave you. "No, I don't think I would. I'm more the whole I will fix your vampirism I promise, person" You shrugged before taking another big bite.

"I would have never guessed" He laughed.

"Oh so I'm a type, you did this for other spawns?" Astarion chimed while wrapping his arms around you, and placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Yeah, don't you know?" You took the last bite from the fruit before attempting to throw it in the trash. "I've kept a diary with all the names of the spawns I saved" You picked up a piece of paper nearby and scribbled a few names all over the paper, and handed it to Astarion.

"So, we got: Astarion, the annoying one, the mysterious one that almost cut my throat, the one that almost sucked me dry, the one that I recently casted a wish spell for" Astarion counted on his fingers. "Damn that's a lot of people right there, you must be an expert" He joked as he folded the paper.

"Of course, don't you see?" You pointed at yourself, sluggish on the chair. "I'm so good at it, I'm not even tired" You jokingly dropped your upper body on the table, faking to be asleep.

"Well, this is my time to leave the room" Gale awkwardly said before standing up and quickly escaping the kitchen.

"I've got sad news for you, my dear expert" Astarion took the seat in front of you, and took your hand in his, absolutely ignoring your friend. You didn't even wait to raise your head, you were already lost in his eyes. "You don't have all the names of the spawns you freed." He poked your nose.

"Mh, who's missing?" You smiled at him as the sly grin appeared on Astarion's lips.

"You will know in due time"

When was the due time? You had absolutely no clue. A few days passed by, everyone left when they were sure you were at least able to move on your own, and Astarion was remembering his physical needs. For so long he only drank blood, and for most of his life, it was very inconsistent as well, so they just made sure he had all the necessary to stay hydrated and well fed, while you were still recovering.

One afternoon you were sitting outside on the porch, the chirping of the birds and the whooshing of the trees was the only sound around you. You enjoyed the warmth of the sun as you waited for Astarion to join you. You had planned a nice picnic in your garden, so together you could enjoy your first sunset since he was a normal elf again.

Astarion just appeared from the door, mittens in hand as he carried out a tray. You could still see the steam coming from it as you were eager to know what he had been fumbling with in the kitchen.

"My darling, they might look wonky, but I promise you, they are way better than what they seem" He smiled, as he placed the tray on top of the low table you set up outside for the two of you.

They did indeed smell delicious, though the cookies looked like they lost their shape.

You couldn't hold back your smile as you picked one that looked like a disfigured kobold.

As you took a bite of it, Astarion joined you. "Wow that's how you treat our dear Wyll uh?" he asked, trying to not laugh at his own joke.

"That was Wyll?!" You took another bite of it, the look of fake surprise on your lips was adorable.

"Didn't you notice the detail of the fake eye and the horns? I thought it was pretty obvious" He joke-scoffed as he relaxed.

For a moment you couldn't believe this was real: the soft breeze lullying you and Astarion as you had a late afternoon snack together. You no longer had to worry about the sun burning to ashes your other half, or to eat alone, though Astarion always sat at the table with you. You didn't have to worry about excuses or mirrors that wouldn't dare to reflect Astarion's beauty.

Just the thought of mirrors brought you back two memories you held dearly: the night you helped him read his back, and the first time after 2 centuries that he could see himself with his own eyes, rather than through yours.

It was the same night you finally awoke after a whole week. He had waited through that week eagerly, as you recovered. All those things that he lost the habit of doing, he wanted to experience them with you.

So you both stood in front of the mirror, you were behind him, your arms tightly wrapped against his hips and your head on his shoulder, as he stared wide-eyed at his reflection.

"See?" You twirled one of those curls that fell in front of his face. "This is what I mean" you gently twisted his head so he could see better his ear and the way his curls wrapped behind it.

He was speechless as you guided him through all those things you always swore to love, but sounded silly for him.

You even ended up telling him a joke about kobolds and goblins to steal a smile from his lips, just enough you could show him those creases that made your knees like jelly.

But the more he'd look at the reflection, the more he'd notice also the details he always dreaded would forever haunt him: like the bite mark on his neck, so deep that it never healed properly, or the scar he never knew was on his shoulder. It was a cold shower while you were trying to cheer him up, and he was so sad because he thought he ruined such a lovely moment between the two of you, focusing on the wrong details.

The one thing he was truly afraid of though, was looking at the rest of the body, the back in particular, terrified of what gruesome scars might have harbored between his shoulder blades, so he didn't dare yet.

He wore his best smile as he turned your way, placing a tender kiss on your lips before muttering—

"My love, are you alright?" He asked, sitting closer to you, and placing a hand on your thigh, drawing slow circles, bringing you back to your picnic and away from memories.

"Yeah, sorry" You muttered, still half lost in the memories. "I just remembered your smile, and I couldn't stop. '' You said softly, your cheeks warming up at the look on Astarion's face. His eyes were wide and soft, so beautiful as the sunset light started to reflect in them. The now softer red of his irises danced and swirled with the soft shades of pink that twinkled reflected. His lips were turned in a grin that he couldn't wipe away even if the world would be crushing on him. Even his ears had a cute reaction as the tips twitched for a moment.

Lastly his cheeks flushed, a sight that was so unique, as they took the colors of peaches.

He wanted to kiss you now that you were so close, but then his mind connected the dots, and he couldn't help but yelp ever so slightly at the realization.

"My love" He called lovingly, his gaze not leaving yours as you admired him. It was not about the admiring itself, but the love those eyes were shining with. Eyes that twinkled like that only for one, him.

A soft hum was your answer as you just enjoyed the little corner of peace you were sharing.

"In the beginning I thought me and you were like the sun and the moon, destined to chase each other and never meet in the middle. Even before we knew each other, deep down- very very deep down I might point out- I would dream of a love like this, of being rescued by a kind soul that would teach me what I never had the chance to experience." He didn't stop, he poured it all like a river during a high moon. "And even in those dreams, you were a fleeting presence, you'd run around kissing everyone's cheeks, and meeting with me in those small moments when the sun and moon would be next to each other"

You could see the raw emotions seeping through his eyes as he just let it all out, while you listened devotedly.

"I wonder if in those two hundred years, we met accidentally down the roads of Baldur's Gate. If by any chance we stumbled upon each other as we were running for errands. If the universe tried to bring us together earlier but failed over and over again" He sighed, taking a long breath before starting again.

He didn't notice your hand reaching for his and cupping it with your fingers, until the pads of your thumb brushed delicately against his knuckles.

"But then we met, and you were no longer running away. Yet I was so afraid that I ended up being the one who did, and you chased me" He smiled ever so softly.

"I was truly awful to you if I think back. I initially planned to toy with your feelings to have a safety net, and instead I had you there, poking with your dexterous fingers where no one ever did. You came every morning, before leaving camp, to say hi. You offered your neck to me and trusted me, it was so new. All of it."

He unclasped your hand, bringing it to your cheek, and caressing it.

"Then I saw it. We were no longer the moon and the sun. We became the moon and the stars. You were there in all that darkness. You listened to a story that would make anyone weep in pity, and yet you offered me a shoulder to cry on and ears willing to hear. You offered a heart to share the burden with, willing to help me carry it. You were my moon, the light that I couldn't help but yearn for. So I became the stars, lingering around you and taking in all those little things you'd do." He could feel his chest tighten as he went on, seeing the way your eyes would soften by the minutes.

"You taught me all. With you I didn't have to be afraid of being myself, I didn't need to be afraid cause you had my back. I didn't have to charm my way through you, and despite the fact that I could give you nothing, you still managed to patiently give me your everything. You taught me love, something I've never thought I could feel, in any way" He leaned forward, placing a ever so soft kiss on your forehead before sitting back.

You were still there where you leaned as well, your eyes yet to open. Then he spoke again, his voice low yet delicate.

"And I will be forever grateful for it, my love. I will forever be grateful for you to be in my life. I will be grateful of the gifts you made me, giving me a second chance at life" It was something he couldn't fully explain, and neither could you, how naturally you two fit together. How the universe made sure his arms would perfectly wrap around your waist, or how he could shake you like no one ever could. The fates truly took their time threading you two together, and you both were grateful for it.

A calm was between you two, silence filling where words could have been, silence where you allowed your eyes to say it all. Yet that silence was abruptly stopped.

"So my love." He took a long breath, mustering all his love in his heart before gifting it to you. "I was wondering if you'd like to share the night sky with me forever, until the end of time." You smiled, and he swore he saw the universe in your irises.

"I thought it was obvious, my star." You brushed your thumb along his cheek. "I'd cross the nine hells if it meant staying by your side. I'd sail the elemental planes and even at the edge of the universe if it meant to kiss you" You leaned in, your lips barely caressing his in the most delicate and pure kiss.

He hummed, closing his eyes at your warmth, but quickly brought himself back to the reality around you.

"So" He cleared his throat, swiftly reaching into his pocket. "My moon, will you marry me?" His words came out so full, like he wanted to scream the question into the void, and yet so gentle, like he was holding a single flower in his palm, out for you.

Warm tears traced your cheeks as your heart swelled. You wanted to say it out loud, to yell it. Yet the words were stuck in your throat behind the trembling lips as you were so overwhelmed.

Your head did it all for you, nodding before you could control the rest of your body.

Your touch was delicate against his chest, even when you were pushing him to have him lay down.

You towered over him, as you gripped the collar of his shirt, and crushed your lips together.

You poured every drop of you to him, cause you were his and only his.

He didn't let go of you, or of your kiss. He basked in the slow dance you were making together, while the cookies and the ring laid forgotten on the table. You don't know how or when you moved back inside, your bodies still flush against each other, and your lips still tangled.

It was something so harmonious, the way you'd moan in his lips, as he grazed your skin. You were one as you made love over and over again. So tender, slow, emotional.

Sometimes tears would swell on your eyes just for a brief moment as you'd profess your love to each other between those choked moans.

You were truly the other piece of him. The only one that would fit perfectly wrapped around his hips, and still perfect when he'd be tangled in your limbs, coaxing those sweet sounds that drove him insane. You were perfect when your arms held him to you, and perfect when he filled you to the brim.

He wanted to say so many things as you showed him the stars, as his head rested in the crook of your neck while he could feel his body lose control over and over again. For you, with you, in you.

"I'll be yours in every universe" He'd kiss your shoulder.

"L-love you in every life" He'd lock your leg on his hip.

"M-my moon" He'd moan as he'd spill in your warmth.

He was glad they were alone, secluded away from any prying ears, cause all he wanted was to drown in the sweet sounds of the love you'd give to each other.

And then you laid in his arms. Your head pressed against his chest as your bodies grew tired, as your legs were still tangled with his while he'd whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

"I'll never love again the way I love you" He'd let his fingers trace the hills and dips of your body, and for a moment he'd indulge in thoughts he always feared to cross his mind; like his hands cradling your swollen belly, or the tiny life you'd protect with every fiber of your beings. The byproduct of your love asleep in his arms. He dared to dream about growing old by your side, and for a moment he dared to imagine meeting you in his next life, but this time he'd waste no time.

Like that, he'd also forget about that folded piece of paper in his pocket where he added one more name to the list. He wanted to finally uncover the mysterious person you saved: your husband.

[sariahsue]

Wherefore Art Thou (My)stery Lady

When a failed attempt to let Chat Noir down easy ends with Ladybug learning his name, she does what any lovesick teenager would do: teases him mercilessly. Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3

Chapter Four

“She really hasn't given you any more hints?” Nino asked. “It's been five days!”

Adrien loved group projects. It meant that there was a chance that he could visit with friends outside of school hours. And given how lucky he had been over the past few days, it didn't even surprise him when Ms. Bustier partnered him with Nino on their history project. 

They sat on his floor together, taking a much-deserved break. Adrien was rereading his texts from Ladybug again, looking for any clues he might have missed. 

Nino was right. It had been five days. Five long days of torture. He hadn’t seen her since their rendezvous on top of Montparnasse Tower, but she had seen him. She’d sent three pictures she’d taken of him when he wasn’t looking. He had his back turned in each one, and he’d been in large crowds as he walked in the hallway in between classes or at the end of the day. Times where there were so many people around that he couldn’t narrow down who she could be, which was deliberate on her part, he was certain. 

They were so close, and he still couldn’t find her.

His phone buzzed with an incoming message.

My Lady – I accidentally called you Kitten in front of my best friend this morning. So embarrassing!  My Lady – I told her I chose that nickname because of all the stupid cat emojis you send me. Adrien – Is that permission to keep sending them to you? My Lady – No.  Adrien – Too bad. Adrien –  😻😽😸

Nino shuffled over, and Adrien scanned the message quickly. Nothing that would arouse suspicion if read. 

“‘My Lady’?” Nino said, reading the contact name at the top. “Getting a little possessive already, huh?”

“No!” Adrien flipped his phone over to hide the messages. “Uh, ‘My’... is short... for ‘mystery.’ She's a mystery lady, but that was too long to fit. So, My Lady.”

“I don't believe you at all, dude, but I'll give you full points for that excuse.” Nino returned to his spot on the floor and started scrolling through his own phone, which he kept hidden from Adrien's view. “You like her already, huh?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. He and Nino hadn't talked much about it, aside from that first day. Adrien had been too busy trying to piece together who Ladybug was, and he was getting frustrated. All he'd done so far was eliminate everyone in the school. Realizing he missed her on his first pass, he tried again. He looked at the yearbook, made a list of everything he knew about her, spent almost all his time in class puzzling over her, and he'd still come up empty. 

“You should ask her out,” Nino said. “I've known her for a long time, and I think you two would be good for each other.”

Adrien nodded. He'd always thought so. “I asked already.”

“You did? Why didn't you tell me?”

“She said yes, assuming I could figure out who I'm asking!” Adrien flipped onto his back and stared at the high ceiling above him. “You’re not allowed to give me any hints, but what is she like?”

“How's that not a hint?”

“Because I already know what she's like.” He raised the phone, implying that he’d gotten to know her through texting and not midnight rooftop strolls. “I just want a different perspective. Maybe I just need the same information from a new angle.”

“If she gets mad at me, I'm blaming you.”

“But she wants to go out with me, right? So you're really trying to help her.”

“How about this,” Nino said. “I won't tell her if you won't.”

“Deal.”

Nino had been typing away on his screen, cap hiding his eyes, through the whole conversation and finally lifted his head. 

Adrien listened intently as Nino started listing Ladybug's familiar traits.

“She's very creative and sweet, but still tough when she wants to be.” 

Adrien knew both of those well from fighting alongside her. She could come up with the most ridiculous plans and execute them flawlessly. She'd stare down a monster and then turn around and help someone who'd been trying to kill her moments before. 

“She's good at video games.” Another one that he knew, but had forgotten. He'd have to write that down on the list.

“And she can be pretty shy and nervous sometimes. It took her forever to tell you that she likes you.” 

Adrien hadn't thought about it like that. She'd admitted to being anxious and awkwardly obvious about her crush (not that he'd been able to figure out that clue either), but he hadn't mentally added that trait to his image of her. She always seemed so confident and self-assured, and he loved that about her. He'd only ever seen her truly nervous on that first day. 

“That's all you're getting.”

“None of it was really new information,” he said. “But thanks for reminding me of some things.”

“Sure, dude.”

Adrien's phone alerted him to another message. 

My Lady – So... Mystery Lady, huh?

Adrien turned to Nino. “You texted her about that? Since when have you had her number?” 

“Since the day she got her phone.”

My Lady – That was smooth. Plus, now you can use my favorite nickname! Adrien – I could just break into Nino's phone and check his messages, you know. My Lady – That would be cheating! Don't you dare!

“Am I going to do this project by myself?” Nino asked. “Or should I call your girlfriend and ask if I can borrow some of your attention?” 

“Sorry, sorry.” And he was, until the next text from her came in. Nino sighed but didn’t complain as Adrien reflexively reached for his phone.  

My Lady – Kitten, my homework is boring, and I don't want to do it. Talk to me.  Adrien – What do you want me to say? My Lady – I don't know. Anything. Adrien – Okay... 

He searched the room for inspiration but found none. The first thing that caught his attention on his phone was his name for her.

Adrien – What did you name my contact? My Lady – Uh...  My Lady – …  My Lady – Nothing...  Adrien – Nothing as in just a blank space, or nothing as in something that you don't want to say? My Lady – NOTHING Adrien – Uh huh. So what is it? Adrien – Hm? Adrien – Aren't you going to tell me? My Lady – No.  Adrien – Why not? My Lady – I'm going to delete your number if you don't stop asking! Adrien – That won't do anything. I'll just text you again, and then you'll have it again. My Lady – Please unsubscribe me from your mailing list.  Adrien – Is it just a string of hearts or something? My Lady – The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Adrien – Or maybe it's “Hot Stuff”? My Lady – New phone. Who dis? Adrien – Wow. It must be reeealllly embarrassing if you don't want to tell me this badly.  My Lady – FINE! My Lady – When I found out who you were, I changed your contact to “Future Husband.” OKAY?!?!?!

If Plagg could see his face right now, Adrien was sure the kwami would gag. He was probably smiling like an idiot. She really thought that it was a possibility?

“You good, dude?”

Adrien only nodded because how was he supposed to explain? Ladybug - LADYBUG - really had decided that she wanted to marry him?!

She was also still waiting for his response. Probably anxiously. Should he gush about how much he loved her or continue with his teasing?

Teasing won out.

Adrien – Oh, Bugaboo, you didn't even buy me a ring yet! My Lady – SHUT UP I'M GOING TO CHANGE IT Adrien – Please don't. Adrien – My ring size is 29, in case you were wondering.  My Lady – That's not even a real size. Adrien – Oh.  Adrien – Father doesn't sell jewelry, so I don't know anything about it. Haha. My Lady – Average sizes are usually between 5 and like 10 or 11. My Lady – In case you were wondering... My Lady – Mine’s 4 and a half.

---

Adrien walked into school the next morning (on time, thankfully! The photographer had been 10 minutes late to the shoot and traffic was horrible all morning) ready to watch the front door for any stragglers who showed up late. He still didn't have any ideas about who Ladybug could be, and he was starting to think he was missing the obvious. So he stood in the middle of the courtyard and scanned faces as they trickled in, but no one in particular stood out to him. No girl was the same height, looked just right, sounded like her, or moved the same way. Over several minutes, the courtyard started filling up. Starting from the doors, he slowly rotated until he’d done a full circle, double checking if someone had slipped past him. Nino was the only one in the crowd who caught his attention.

“Hey, bro!” Nino said, waving as he approached. “You look distracted, which means you haven't figured it out yet.”

“No! And she still won't give me another hint!”

“That's because you have enough to figure it out with, man. You're trying too hard.” He swung an arm over Adrien's shoulders. “Just look at your contact list and find the hole. Should be obvious, my dude.” It was easy for Nino to give advice. He had found out who she was the easy way ages ago.

But Ladybug kept telling him that, too. Plagg, when he didn't avoid the subject entirely, said much the same thing. 

Adrien reached for his phone, but his scroll through his contact list was interrupted by an incoming text image. 

There he and Nino were, in the middle of the crowded courtyard, looking at his phone. Adrien's head snapped up. The photographer had been directly in front of him on the upper level, but that area was now deserted. 

“Come on,” Adrien said. “Maybe we can catch her.” 

He took the stairs two at a time while Nino hollered for him to slow down. Adrien had no plan to do anything of the sort. His Lady had been there just a few seconds ago. She couldn't have gotten far. 

Reaching the top step, he took another look around. There were a few corners that she could be hiding behind, or she could have ducked into a classroom. He debated for only a second. What would Ladybug do if she was trying to trip him up? Probably go where the most people were so she could hide in plain sight. He poked his head into the nearest classroom. A few people waved to him, but no one he knew well enough to have traded phone numbers with. 

He tried a few more, then doubled back and checked the alcoves. There were a lot of people that he knew, and because he was in such a hurry, all of them seemed to want to say hello to him. He stayed only long enough each time to give a very hurried explanation that he was looking for someone in order to excuse himself before running off again. 

“Hey!” Nino said, finally catching up with him. “Will you slow down?”

“Did you see her anywhere? Please tell me that much. Did I overlook her again?”

“I haven't seen her,” Nino said, taking off his hat and fanning himself with it. “What did you eat for breakfast, man? Rocket fuel? I haven't seen you run like that since the last akuma. Or…” Nino put his hat back on and smiled, “do you really just want to find her that bad?”

Two minutes after running out of the courtyard, Adrien found himself up at the top of the stairs overlooking it. He walked to the railing, where Ladybug had been standing when she took her picture of him. She'd been so close, and she'd slipped through his fingers again. He needed to figure her identity out soon, or she’d be the death of him (in the best way possible). 

The courtyard was emptier than it had been a few minutes prior. The flow of students through the front doors had been reduced to a trickle. Only a few stragglers remained at the bottom of the stairs, waiting to go to class until the very last second.

“I think the bell's about to ring,” Nino said, tapping him on the shoulder. “We should go.”

Adrien sighed. Another attempt to find her had ended in failure. 

They trudged back down the stairs to their first class. A few of their friends were ahead of them in the hallway, including Alya and Marinette, who were whispering together. He heard Alya congratulating Marinette about something. He heard only a few words, “likes you a lot!” and “interested.” What were they talking about? He picked up his pace, hoping to get close enough to catch more of the conversation, but Nino called out to them over the crowd to get their attention before he reached them.

Alya cut off her next sentence abruptly and spun around, eyes going to Adrien first before landing on Nino.

“Good morning!” Marinette said, eyes shining. Was he imagining it, or was her gaze lingering on him longer than it usually did? “What have you two been up to this morning? Looking for that mystery lady of yours again?”

“You know about that?” Adrien groaned. “How many people know?” 

A few people shoved past him to get to their classrooms. He hadn't realized they were blocking the traffic.

“Nino told me about it,” Marinette said, starting to walk forward again. “He said you were having some trouble figuring out who she was. Do you want some help?” Behind her back, Nino and Alya exchanged deadpan looks.

“Yeah,” he said. “That would be great. I've tried everything I can think of.” 

Marinette thought about it for a few seconds, tapping her finger to her lips in a slow, exaggerated movement. He glanced down at the finger briefly before turning his attention back to her eyes. 

“Have you tried tricking her into giving you more information? Like ask her about something that happens at school today that only some people know about. Then, if she sees it, you have fewer people to guess from. Maybe you could cat-ch her that way?” She put more emphasis on the first half of the word “catch,” but he wasn't sure why. “What about the assembly today?”

“That's a great idea, Marinette! Thanks!” That was a fantastic idea. The assembly was only for their grade, and if she saw it too, that would really narrow down the pool of candidates. And even if she didn’t, he could exclude an entire grade from his search. He would have to word his questions just right, so she wouldn’t think he was asking for another hint. If she knew he was looking for a way around the rules of her challenge, she might not answer. Or worse, be unhelpful on purpose.

“You're welcome,” she said. “I really hope you find her soon.”

Adrien blinked, surprised to find himself and Marinette alone in the hallway in front of their first period class. His mind was still thinking up exactly how he would pose his questions to seem the most innocent. 

“Really, Marinette. Thank you. I really want to find her.” 

She beamed at him as the bell rang, and they both ran for the classroom door. 

With Marinette’s help, and a little bit of his Lady’s luck, he might know was behind the mask by the end of the day. And he couldn’t wait.

Chapter Five

---

Tag list: @eclipsesmoonshine14, @alittlewolf2, @mlbigbang

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia! I’ve been scrolling way back to some old posts and a while ago you talked about a few chapters of your own work you like to reread (I think it was the whole Tigbalan section in Game Theory?) and I was wondering if there was anything from your more recent works that you go back to regularly? Like the Underline series, Constellations, or your fanfic, etc.? I always think it’s interesting the difference between authors favorite parts vs readers.

(On a completely separate note, I saw a post of a fancy… coffee table? That was see glass on top and you could put crystals or collectibles or really whatever you wanted in it, but it was also essentially a big drawer that you could pull stuff out of. ANYWAY I just randomly thought of SiA Augus and I can picture him displaying all his homemade sex toys in there, just, in the living room. He would be so proud, and now I can’t get that picture out of my head. Mosk would be scandalized 😭)

I was wondering if there was anything from your more recent works that you go back to regularly? Like the Underline series, Constellations, or your fanfic, etc.?

I actually work so hard on the writing now I can't reread as often as I used to, which I recognised about a year ago and worked to change because I feel like rereading makes me a better writer (this is hard to explain, but I see my weaknesses and strengths better once I put some more distance between myself and a story).

I go back and reread certain stories more than others, regardless of when I finished them, and they are:

Falling Falling Stars The Golden Age that Never Was The Ice Plague Smoke in Autumn Eversion The Beast that Chose Its Own Bridle (I feel like I've actually probably reread this one more than anyone else here lmao I am uncommonly proud of this story and think about it a lot. It has inspired two separate original universes) Underline the Red

Stories that I used to reread a lot more that I don't as much now:

The Wind that Cuts the Night Stuck on the Puzzle Passiflora

I actually struggle to reread certain stories, otherwise, and I'm working out why that is. Game Theory is tough to return to because I've been slowly working on making that fully original so every time I look at it, all I see is the burden of work I have not yet done.

I reread all the Underline stories, just not as much as Red.

I otherwise reread pretty actively when I'm writing unfinished serials because sometimes two-three years can go by and if I'm not rereading I won't be remembering what I put in place years ago! I don't write chapter plans until the very end of a serial (and sometimes not even then) so I don't have a compass telling me what I've said or where to go beyond memory and rereading.

It often just really depends on what I'm going through that year!! Certain periods in my life if there's a lot of health stuff, or a lot of loneliness, I'll gravitate towards different stories because the nature of the comfort changes. I sometimes see an 'author's favourite' series on some stories but I don't know if I could do that because it's always changing.

I just randomly thought of SiA Augus and I can picture him displaying all his homemade sex toys in there

This is a cool headcanon, so as not to contradict it, I'm gonna put my response behind a read more so you don't have to!

Augus in Smoke in Autumn (and actually in the canon too) is very compartmentalised and private about his kink practices. So while he has stuff within reach (though he did plan everything he had in that storage space next to the couch, including it being there in the first place), he's too private to just...display things like that in places that colleagues etc. would be walking through.

Like you have the dudebros who straight up have illustrations of pin ups on their wall and then you have Augus who wouldn't do that, but would have a display case of sex toys in his bedroom. Or would have lubricant on hand in the lounge, but hidden away.

The "hidden away" part is very important for Augus. If he wants to sit in the lounge and watch TV, he doesn't want to see his sex toys through a coffee table. If he wants to have sex in the lounge with sex toys, he will move them into the lounge, and then clean up afterwards like none of it was ever there.

I feel like he's very precise and specific in that way. There are kinky homes where it feels like everywhere you look it's NSFW and confrontational, and then you have the folks where you'd never know unless you understood why someone might have a four poster bed and hard points in their ceiling in the bedroom and possibly in the lounge.

Augus is the latter. He's not showy, in that way. I like to imagine his house is very 'exactly as I want it.'

If anything, he likes that newcomers / the boys he picks up can't tell what he's into until he specifically chooses to reveal his sex toy workshop, his bedroom, or he surprises them with something. He likes having ultimate control over that exposure.

That being said, somewhere out there is an Augus who also really likes the shock value of having his sex toys right where everyone can see them :D

[rawbin-hsr]

The previous anon articulated it so well bc I just saw what they're talking about and I'm honestly confused why they thought u were saying anything wrong like 😭😭 are we sure we have the same guy here? Aventurine while yes knows what being loved feels like, he's gone through enough things and changes in life that that little frame of reference won't serve him well, especially within a romantic context bc he doesn't have ANY reference.

I read what you wrote as him not really meaning to (even reread) and yeah, he wouldn't Purposely want to be abusive to his romantic partner, but it still borders on it. What a lot of ppl get wrong is that, emotional abuse doesn't have to always mean the perpetrator is fully aware of it themself.

Maybe bc I myself have bpd, but it's so easy to see. When someone's avoiding negative feelings they have about themself (jealousy, insecurity etc) they can easily externalize this blame (and for him, that's so much more likely, it's literally a defense mechanism) or even, projecting his own view of himself on how you view him only to end up upset. (And then, the random clinginess that comes after this pushing away, why would it happen if not for trying to convince you to stay even though what he keeps doing is generally not a good thing to do in a relationship?) He wouldn't have known healthy attachment, didn't grow up with a safety net to be comfortable with that, hell, he thinks people closest to him (in canon) are sort of "tolerating" him. Are we really surprised?

Like, you never said aventurine is doing it with intent or even awareness bc yea he isn't!! He'd realize some of his actions sure, but stuff like "pushing you away" is probably shit he genuinely considers good for you, and it's not even like completely wrong he's in a high and risky position. Doesn't mean it wouldn't hurt like a mf, and I think that's the biggest tragedy of it all, because he doesn't fully realize how bad his actions are from another pov, and it's not like a single Convo can get him to understand that.

Anyway, sorry that was a lot more incoherent than I thought and I was firmly stating a lot of things bc I can pull up stuff to back my claim but ALSO bc they pissed me off if u don't like something just scroll I've been doing that for years on this app I never felt the need to go yell at someone bc I don't agree with how they interpret a character 😒😒😒😒 I hope ur feeling better, rsd sucks ass I always get so overwhelmed whenever I experience it but ur intent came across very clearly actually dw

I’m literally in tears I’m so grateful multiple people are taking the time to reassure me thank you so much 🥹🥹🥹 I was really doubting myself and my own take on him, it makes me feel so relieved I’m not the only one who has this specific take on him haha I was lowkey worrying I was a terrible person for a moment there 😭

And yes, exactly !!!! I think you were very coherent in this, in fact I think you formulated what I meant to say better than I did 😭😭 Like there’s a lot, a LOT of nuance to it !!! He never does it out of malice. He just doesn’t know any better. He tries to do what’s right and what’s best for you, he’s just… kind of not good at that because his whole perspective is skewed.

I do still think they were right that I shouldn’t have used the word ‘abuse’. It’s a very loaded term, and I think abuse requires a power dynamic, which is something I think he would try to eliminate in a relationship. Like, yes, he is a powerful man and he sort of needs some leverage to stay in control (of both his own life and his relationship with you), but I think he fucking hates the idea of being “above you” in any way. (Though to be fair he still could unintentionally create an uneven power dynamic — he’s the one mostly in charge of when the two of you interact. I think he loathes himself even more when he realises that.) I think it would be best to stick to the word “toxic” because it feels most fitting from my pov

[spockandawe]

You know what, I'm not happy about this either :T

Unless I'm t-boned by another reblog from someone huge, this likely won't reach as wide of an audience. And I regret that! Because either I presented myself badly or people are taking the wrong thing away from my words.

So, I strongly, STRONGLY believe in supporting writers. I also strongly believe in archival work and preservation of online media. I mentioned my own binding of the raksura patreon short stories earlier this year, hoping to manifest an official printing to buy, which.... folks, the implicit logical endpoint is that I went and expanded them all and saved them locally too.

It wasn't scraping, since I've seen that description being tossed around in the notes. My copy was manual copy and paste, because I don't respect my own time, and so was the other recent version. If you're going to rail against that, I guess you've successfully transported nft rage about right click + save as to a new medium.

Frankly, the patreon interface is a pain for this. Infinite scroll is part of the enshittification of the internet, this is a lot of text and posts, patreon isn't a powerful archival site, and it started choking horribly by the time I was halfway through. Now that I know people can still sign up (which i didn't, for years, that closed label is misleading), I still emphatically encourage them to do so and fight through the lag to read the stories.

I also quoted the thing where I said I owned all the books in three formats - physical, ebook, audiobook. Guess what copy I use for most rereads - that's right, none of them, because I was a dumb youth who didn't understand how awful kindle drm is and I can't word search in a paper book, so the secret fourth format is pirated ebooks, which I know amazon will never be able to yoink out of my grip. If I ever git gud at illumination and make a hand-illustrated compendium of the series, that's going to be my starting base, because there arent digital rights to lock me down to owning ACCESS to a copy of the book and not the copy of the book itself.

Now, the existence of pirated ebooks isn't all sunshine and roses. I've seen the talks about how new books IMMEDIATELY get pirated and shared and start cutting into an author's livelihood and future publishing prospects. I think it's incredibly important to support authors directly and in ways corporate marketing teams are able to observe. But especially in light of the Hollywood strikes, I'm sure many of us have seen posts about corporate entities playing shitty games with what they'll make available and withhold, and what they'll CHARGE versus what the customer has PURCHASED.

The only thing in the original post I take issue with is the reposting of something that was still available directly through the author. That has already been addressed. The originator is remorseful. I still understand if the patreon vanishes, to be clear. But i quietly made my own copy years ago BECAUSE i understand how easy it is for something like that to vanish, for much more arbitrary reasons. It could have been vanished because of site policy, patreon abruptly archiving all posts more than X years old. Online media is dangerously ephemeral.

I bind a lot of cnovel fan translations. So many amazing stories are getting licensed for translation - great! But it's also a massive extinction event for all the backbreaking translation work other fans have been sharing for years for free. And from that perspective it's a fucking TRAGEDY. I have... a Lot of files that I'm not sharing publicly. My goal is never to preempt or undermine the translators who did the actual work. But that hoard of files is still precious to me, because it takes about five seconds to delete a gdoc of translation, and there's not always warning to save a copy first.

Again, emphasis, my only issue here was the reposting. I'm not happy that it happened. I'm glad the files were quickly taken down, whether or not the patreon itself goes away. I'm glad op is remorseful for overstepping, and I can... mostly see how they didn't realize the problem, and mainly wanted to help more people experience a story they loved.

So it's also worth saying that I'm also not too stoked about the direction tags on that post were starting to go. 'Piracy is inexcusable, piracy is the death of--' STOP. I recognize that begging for nuance while tossing thoughts out onto social media is a losing game. But actually, I'm out of patience for black and white thinking happening on my post. Piracy is a valuable tool for archivists and a hazard to creators, which is why it should be practiced quietly and with deliberate care. It should be practiced in a way that attempts not to damage the creator's livelihood or take away control of their creations. That's where the misstep was here. OP understood they had misstepped and they were expressing remorse even before I got on my high horse, and it sure doesn't seem like the notes care about that, so! I'm done letting the outrage machine feed on it.

That's probably enough. I'm not saying anything I haven't said on here before. If you've ever grieved for a beloved fic missing from your ao3 bookmarks because it was deleted, you understand the basic archival urge. If you lost access to a favorite artist's extensive archives because the images were flagged in the 2018 boob ban, you should be able to understand. I manually saved 36,000 pictures in that brief grace period before I completely burned out. The fundamental impulse shouldn't be that hard to grasp. The rest is just responsible practices, and people fuck up sometimes. It sucks, but sometimes you don't recognize a boundary is there before you blunder right over it with the best of intentions. I think a lot of us have been there too.

Anyways, this is too much text, how boring to look at. Here's my remaining pictures of my own little anthology copy. Still manifesting an official release someday, or any books of the raksura material at all. Money will literally fly from my pocket to purchase it in every available format.

[youngprofesser]

Reread some of Shatterpoint the other day and it got me thinking about how Mace feels that he chooses the path of a Jedi every day. I don't tend to write him struggling with the dark bc I think it's usually done poorly, but I thought I'd give it a shot.

A report comes in from somewhere on the edge of Separatist space. A Jedi found alone, dead in the bottom of a quarry.

"At least we think it's a Jedi." The caller had posed. The transcript that Mace is reading doesn't indicate tone, but he imagines it said casually, as if talking about the weather. "There wasn't any laser sword around, and there wasn't much left un-stabbed in terms of identifying clothing."

Mace doesn't need to read anymore to know what happened. He knows how Grievous kills, he's seen too many reports of Jedi practically carved out from saber after saber plunged into the torso. He scrolls past the pictures that had been sent over to identify the remains. He's quick enough that all he sees a blur of blue skin and brown robes and blackened flesh. At the end of the file is the assumed identity of the Jedi. Mace recognizes the name. He had knighted the young man not two weeks ago.

This is not the first time that this has happened in the war. It's not the second, not even the third. It's the fifth. Five Jedi whose braids that Mace has cut only to conduct their funeral within the month. Their lives didn't even have time to begin before they were ended, all by the same separatist general.

Mace has a flicker of a thought of hunting down Grievous and killing him. No part of him protests, and the thoughts roll into each other easily.

He could do it. The rest of the council could not stop him if he leaves quickly and in secret, simply dropping off the grid without warning. The Republic has no hope of tracking him, and his fellow masters would be far too busy picking up his responsibilities to search for him. Once he's done it the Republic would be grateful. Though his colleagues wouldn't share the sentiment, he knows that it would be a weight off of the Order’s shoulders.

The actual killing wouldn't be extraordinarily difficult if he proceeds without anything holding him back. The shatterpoints of metal require much less precision than those of flesh. If he can accept a few broken fingers, Mace won't even need his saber once he has Grevious on the ground. He could have the metal crumble under his fingertips, tear the cyborg apart limb by limb with his bare hands. It would even feel good.

This is dangerous.

Mace closes his eyes, breathes in deep through his nose. He's on the edge of unbalance. He needs a counterweight: something to keep him here, keep him in check.

As if on cue, his comm beeps on his wrist. It's a transmission from Ki-Adi, low priority. He doesn't have to answer. He could break his comm in two with just a flick of a fingernail and be off planet before anyone was the wiser.

He answers.

[droughtofapathy]

I'm too lazy to get my phone out and scroll through emojis, which I know you'll appreciate. "what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?" "share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on" "what's the fastest way to become your mutual?"

And because I know this is going to cause internal bleeding: "give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing"

Thank ya, love.

Oh thank god, I don't have to go scrolling back to find the post. Big fan of no-emoji asks.

"what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?" Essays. I'm lucky enough to have many beloved mutuals who will show up on the doorstep of my works with lengthy analysis, discussion, and favorite lines all ready to go. I'm a writer who wants to discuss the work in intimate detail, so these comments are like catnip to me.

"share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on" Stop giving a fuck. Do what you want and what you like and to hell with what others are doing or thinking. Having confidence in yourself is the easiest way to deal with problems. I have always been an extremely confident person, but as a kid I still had a lot of stress and anxiety, and though even at such a tender age, I was still doing what I wanted, I was also doing it with a lot more neurotic energy. I had panic attacks semi-frequently, but (and this is really bad advice from a professional mental health perspective because I'm realizing how trivializing it sounds) I got rid of all the stress and anxiety and neuroses by just...not having them. It sounds absurd, but I'm living the high life with none of the mental health issues so many of my friends have because I just decided to stop being anxious and stressed all the time, and more importantly, I'm so fucking sure of myself. This is not something most people are able to do. Proper treatment is important: I just... didn't need it. I looked at all those reasons I was stressed and upset and just said "who cares? So what? What's the worst that could happen and what am I actually going to do about it if it does? Nothing matters. I'm fantastic. So why am I wasting my time and energy being so worked up about everything?" And that's kind of just how I live my life. Nothing matters, things happen, life goes on. I know I'm a fucking delight. (And yeah, it's probably really aggravating to hear someone just say stop having anxiety, because it's not that simple. But it was for me.

So that's my advice: be confident. Be apathetic. I'm sure of what I think and what I do. Have trust in yourself. Just do whatever it is that you need or want to do.

"what's the fastest way to become your mutual?" Barrel into my DMs with lengthy rants/discussions at the ready. Talk to me about my writing or the theatre. I'm actually not great at fast-tracking mutuals. I know all of my current beloved mutuals can attest to the fact that it did take time for me to follow back. Just stick with me. I'll get there eventually if I like what's on your blog and I connect with you personally.

"give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing" Me talking to myself: Jesus fucking Christ, why won't you take some goddamn time to edit your work? Would it kill you to take a breather in between finishing the last sentence and putting it up on the archive with barely a cursory reread for typos (especially given how they keep slipping by anyway)? Why must you be so stubborn? It's not admitting incompetence by doing a second draft. Try it out sometime and see what happens. You might even like it.

(Unfortunately, I am cursed with a staggering amount of confidence--bordering on arrogance--and my first drafts are pretty damn fantastic. I never had to try very hard to get top marks for school essays, so I was stuck in this no-edit lifestyle from an early age and just never bothered to get out. It's working for me.)

[bastardsblood]

Hello.... I fear my want for Pierre shall never be quenched.... May I please request a continuation of your last scenario? I need to know what will happen to them next!!!

- 🍆

Hello! Of course! I hope that this sequel to the previous imagine will be satisfactory! I haven't reread the imagine, so I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes. ^^

Characters: Pierre Nabeel

Scenario: Pierre with a Yandere Reader

Content Warnings: Cultist Idealogy

Lovely markings covered the entirety of his body. 

When the two of you got to a safe location away from your village, you asked the man—Pierre, he was called—to strip. Again, it didn't take long for his mind to get in the gutter, but he showed no reluctance or hesitation in following your orders despite your clarifications, aside from a pouty expression that betrayed his disappointment that he wasn't going to 'get lucky' this time either. It felt a bit jarring and unreal to have your God listening to you—although it wasn't him, not exactly. 

Examine him while you can, and worry about your situation later—you reminded yourself. His markings were the same ones you've seen on ancient scrolls and inside of your most elaborate temples—snake scales as dark as night wrapping themselves around his arms, torso, legs. It was a beautiful sight, even as the man was doing everything to break your immersion by forcing his body into silly poses. 

When it came to Pierre, and not Apophis, you didn't understand him at all. When you asked him about your God, he merely said that he was 'an annoying guy who wouldn't shut up', and although his words made you scowl, there was no hatred or fear held in his tone. It was as if he saw your God as nothing more than an inconvenience, or a 'roommate' sharing his body, rather than an otherworldly being. His eerily happy smiles, his impulsive and unpredictable behaviour, and his untainted innocence were all but little signs that lead you to think that the son of the royal family was a man with more than a few screws loose. 

The more you travelled, the more apparent it became. He was trusting and only saw the good in people, no matter how obvious their manipulation tactics were. A part of you felt strangely irritated, and the first few times even left him to his devices to inspect what he'd do, but in the end, you'd always have to come rescue him. You remember that one time he got involved with a dangerous individual, and it was only by a stroke of luck that you killed him before he killed you. Still, as you were catching your breath, you found something disturbingly strange—for there were no light-hearted comments or surprised laughter. It wasn't until you felt the bloodlust coming from the man behind you that you realised what was happening. 

Finally, you thought, he was here! Apophis, your dear God, has come! You're overjoyed, so, why won't your body move? Frozen in place, you could only hear an amused huff from the entity that was slowly approaching you. When He took your hand, you subconsciously flinched and dared not to look at him. Your heart was beating fast, faster than it has ever pounded in your chest. His presence alone was enough to make your knees go weak and your survival instincts to flare up. Your thoughts became a warped song—He is here! Is He going to kill me? I can't move…! This is an honour. Am I going to die? I want to be eaten and ascend. Ahh, I don't want to die—! 

Your face was forcibly tilted to face the man on whose face you haven't yet seen such a dark expression. Before you knew what was happening, the entity moved closer with a sneer, and licked your cheek. The wet muscle lapped at your face, leaving trails of saliva behind, sucking on and almost pushing itself into the small wound that you couldn't avoid in battle. Oh, you finally realised, it's because of my blood that he came out. 

When he was done, his nails sharply trailed your jawline as he pulled away from you. He then smiled at you, full of teeth, and you hesitantly smiled back. Despite his hold on you, and his intimidating presence, something was telling you he wouldn't kill you just yet—whether it be because he was trying to ascertain your worth or because he saw you as a plaything. Whichever it was, despite your fear, you found his visage enchanting. 

He spoke to you, talking in an ancient tongue that sounded alien to your ears, and yet you listened intently nonetheless. For a while, it seemed as if the entirety of the world had stopped, and the entity being reflected in your eyes was the sole reason you were even born. It was enthralling, seductive, but incredibly nauseating. 

And then, the illusion broke—the markings on Pierre's body receded into their previous state, and the man merely yawned and blinked when he came back to his senses. Despite your confusion, your choked laugh had traces of relief for his return. With a few of his foolish jokes, the world returned to its previous colours, and eventually you were able to get back on your feet. 

Ever since then, you have started to compare the two souls living inside the same body. Comparing their smiles and mannerisms, appearance and articulation; you were enticed and intrigued by both. One, you felt the need to serve faithfully, the other, you strangely felt the need to protect. And you were going to do anything to keep them safe, lest either of them be harmed. 

Pierre made a joke about you being a mother hen, and maybe that wasn't too far from the mark. You made sure he ate properly—and ate proper food—and bathed when needed, even if the latter was often accompanied with whining for you to wash him instead. You justified all of your behaviour, naturally thinking you were doing all of this for your God, but you came to enjoy the feeling of being needed by someone. Pierre was a cheerful person, but he was alone. He had no friends or allies; for those who do not want him gone only want Apophis. 

And, somehow, you found pleasure in that fact. You felt irredeemably spoiled—you both had someone wholly dependent on you and your God always by your side. Although Pierre wasn't aware of any negative aspects of his life, from the stories he'd told you, all of his companionships were short-lived, and he spoke of the deaths of others lightly. A prickle of fear pierced into your skin, and you were weirdly self-conscious of the fact you weren't someone that important to him after all. 

For if you were to be eventually killed or eaten by Apophis, you'd want it to leave a scar. 

[wouldduskwood]

Jake's POV Descendants of Despair Part 76

My response was as immediate as I could make it, with fumbling fingers and racing heart.

Jake is Online

"What is it?"

"What happened?"

"Please answer me and let me know you are okay!"

Thoughts raced through my mind.

Had she been contacted by the same mysterious stranger as I had? Had Dan or Lilly said or done something? Was she going to end up back on the street, unsheltered and lacking of even the most basic of protections?

MC: "Jake...it's okay. Nothing has happened. Not anything I didn't expect.... I just...

Just? Just what? My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to burst free altogether.

Jake: Just? Just what? What happened MC? You can tell me. Tell me anything.

MC: Sorry. I can manage things myself. Really. Just, I guess... Jake...

Jake: Please MC. Please. You can tell me. Don't ever be sorry for wanting to tell me things.

MC: Jake. I...I guess I need you. More than I thought. Maybe I'm just tired.

Suddenly my heart, that had nearly been in my throat leapt for a completely different reason. I never got sick of hearing her express her love for me, and this time was no exception. It had been a far better outcome than expected and I cherished it. Every single word. I read them once again, holding onto each word for dear life. As I wrapped my whole being around the words, I realised that while I was holding on for dear life, she had no clue of what I was doing. She would be worried. So I penned back, as quickly as I could.

Jake: I'll be there. I will always be there. Just say the word and I will get you. The promise I made. The promise about not allowing myself to be caught. That stands. I won't ever take myself away from you. I can't. Not if it means you suffering.

MC: Thanks Jake. Really.

MC is Offline

MC is offline. The sentence hung over me. I scrolled back over her previous message, the one that held my life, and reread it. Comforting. Loving. Her.

MC is Online

MC: Two days Jake. Then, one way or another, we end it.

MC is Offline

Two days. She had put a definite time limit on it. She was certain, as certain as I was. I could do two days. I could make it work. I had waited a lifetime for a love like this. Two days, counting down the hours and minutes. I could do it.

Unknown is Online

Unknown: Are you ready to play my game?

What could I say? Saying yes invited myself into a sick and twisted game. Saying no would just encourage and spur on the attacker. Saying nothing would likely just elicit anger. I could try hacking the phone, but that would take time. Two days was all I had.

Unknown: If you say anything to anyone, we will come after her.

Unknown is Offline

The words broke through all thoughts of two days and forced me back into a state of panic. Two days now didn't seem long enough. To find who this person was and destroy them, before they destroyed us.

Part 77

[ciceroprofacto]

Well it's putting the cards on the table time apparently. I heard once about a rumor that basically said that you didn't do the research for soa, nor did your wife. That some Tumblr user(s) actually made ("an important") part of the research. I think the ones that told me that hate you or something.

So I just wanted to know - is that true? Because well, even i sometimes thought that it was almost impossible to make that amount of research by oneself. Or even two people. Both in so, so busy careers and being successful in those careers.

Look, it's not as if I believed it's completely impossible. I mean, I've been building a world with my bf for some years now, and just a month ago we discovered that its political laws are incredibly similar to spartan ones... without any of us having ever studied ancient politics before.

So anyways. Have a nice day!

ugh. I've seen this one (or a variation of it) before and I have some questions.

what's this 'important part' of the research that I didn't do?

and if not me...who's doing it?

seriously- who? I'd love to call them up. I was begging for help when I first started- what do y'all think that obnoxiously-long timeline post (made January 9th 2017) was? it's literally titled as a call to action...and it barely got feedback at the time. it took 6 chapters for @madtomedgar to pick me up and help with editing until I got my footing and then @denialandavoidance picked me up. if anyone can be credited with helping me, it's them- which is why they are credited on those chapters. but, I will say, and they could attest (though this is so far below worth our time...), the legwork was always there on the details. I just needed touch-ups, fact checks, and proofreading.

on that- did we just...scroll past the years of posts where I was discovering details for the timeline and sharing them...some of that process was pretty public? unfortunately, a lot of it was also just in my notes and on the chapter drafts because I was more worried about writing the story than showing my work...because it's a fanfic. I couldn't imagine anyone would need me to prove that I'd researched.

which- what is the bar here for citations? the closest thing I've done to a bibliography has been the recent meta posts I'm making on the reread, but the idea of including that on the work itself is nightmarish. even my meta post leaves a lot out, and you'd end up with ~2k words of notes on each chapter. that ruins the immersion, distracts from the plot, and worst- adds extra effort on my part. I just won't do it. sorry. I'm not making money off this, I'm not being graded on it. it's a fanfic.

even if I tried, a full-bibliography isn't going to have all the records for every nitty-gritty detail that's included in the story. I wasn't adding footnotes on my drafts as I went along. I just wasn't. my method was to keep it as simple as possible, and a bibliography wasn't the priority, just getting the information. I basically just had a timeline that was like an agenda for each day and I was backfilling it with details from all the books and journals and primary source documents I was reading. anytime a date would come up in a source, I'd add it to my notes. anytime there was a gap or I had specific questions, I'd dig around until I could fill it (or I’d make something up because it’s fiction). though most of my sources were publicly-accessible (we stan Wiki in this house), I don't even have access to everything I used back in 2015-18. I was in college and had access to academic databases, my library, and @john-laurens was also still in school with similar accesses, and towards the end of 2016, started helping me find specific details. google could get me 90% of the way there, but the really detailed day-to-day stuff was in letters and journal entries.

it seems a lot like how someone might research to write a biography, they'd just be more thorough about annotating their sources since their goal is to publish...I might not be doing it for the same reasons, but why is it so hard to believe I could?

anyway- no. that's not true. I've had contributors. the people I've mentioned above have helped me directly and they're credited in the work because of it- though I would still emphasize for the context of this question, their help has mostly been as editors, occasionally fielding specific questions or giving me source recommendations. any contributions other than theirs would come from posts that are public on this blog, but I truly, genuinely, can't think of any that have already been incorporated or would warrant recognition...

if someone feels like I've missed something they gave me, they're always welcome to take it up with me.

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #14

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

[AO3]

~POV Mori~

I woke up when it was still dark out. Only the faintest light came in my windows.

I hadn't done anything yesterday. Just laid down and rested for the first time in a long time. The doctor's were convinced I needed one more day of rest, but I knew I was already better. When was the last time I had just let my body rest like that when I wasn't sick? I couldn't remember. This peace was nice.

The quiet of sunrise was only broken by the faint sound of bird calls in the distance. I sat up and closed my eyes. I focused everything on my other senses. I couldn't hear the ocean easily from here. I had wanted to use the sounds of the waves to meditate, but I would just have to do without.

It had been a few days since I last checked in with myself and really focused inward. I could still feel them, all of the Black Rukh that had merged with me back in Balbadd. They were much calmer than before. And they felt like a part of me now, like I might be incomplete if they were suddenly gone. I knew each one from the dreams too. Their lives were mine and each also now knew my life as their own.

Going through all of their lives on the ship would have been painful even without being sick. These were angry souls and they did not welcome the inner peace I was offering easily, but a person's Rukh doesn't lie. After reading this world's truth through my memories they all calmed.

All of us lived lives of loss and poverty and trauma. That must have been another part of why we were able to fully merge in such a short time.

As Black Rukh they couldn't return to the Great Flow where the rest of their loved ones were, but they at least had each other within me.

It was a very strange feeling.

And along with their lives and Rukh, their magoi was also now mine. What had felt like a small pool now felt like a large lake. I had a lot more magoi at my disposal now that they were fully integrated with me.

The Great Bell range and I grounded myself in the present.

Only then did it occur to me that I was probably sick, and suffering from the influx of Rukh separately at the same time. It had been both all along. Whatever illness I had was worsened by my situation with the Rukh. I hadn't lost my magoi manipulation during it, but it was probably learning it ahead of time that had saved me. There's no way such a large amount of Rukh entering me wouldn't have made my body unstable.

Would the doctors understand if I explained it to them? I should ask Sinbad before saying something unnecessary.

The dim light from my windows called to me. I got out of my bed, put on my glasses, and sat on the sill of one them at the encouragement of the waves.

Like this, I could look down and see the Palace court yard. On the other side of the court yard were the Silver Scorpio (martial arts training), and Black Libra (libraries & schools) Towers, behind them to the left was the Red Cancer Tower (military) and fully to the left was the Purple Leo Tower where Sinbad lived. Since I was on a high floor I could easily see all of the towers of the Palace from my windows -all except the White Capricorn Tower where Ja'far does most of his work since that building was on the other side of this one.

It was so strange. Looking at all this made it real that I was really here. How many times had I reread or rewatched scenes wondering what it would feel like to be here?

I rested my head on the window frame as I watched the growing light from the sunrise.

The guards changed.

The sun was fully risen. Ja'far would be waking up Sinbad soon if he hadn't already.

Two people walked out of the Purple Leo Tower -a guard and a woman. She wasn't wearing a uniform. In fact she was wearing less than the citizens I saw the other day.

"Oh, right."

Sinbad has a call girl see to him after Ja'far wakes him up.

I had the 3rd fan book for the anime which contains a day-in-the-life for a bunch of the main characters. It was only in Japanese, but I had learned enough (and could look up what I didn't know) to at least read his schedule.

The direct translation was for a "temporary woman" which from what I've found is the Japanese term for a fem sex worker. I've seen some translations for Magi's extra material refer to them as "call girls" so that was the term I chose to use.

The franchise used the word "harem" in a bunch of places, but purposely didn't use it here. That combined with an omake of Sinbad having a nightmare about being married and having a harem made it clear that Sinbad did not have a harem; he had the whole red-light district of his country to choose from.

Hold on... That book wasn't supposed to reach my house until after I had Isekaied so how did I know it's contents? There were barely any scans or photos of pages online-

*Knock knock*

My thoughts

were cut off when breakfast arrived -with more medicine of course.

---

~POV Sinbad~

Nearly a week had passed since King Sinbad had arrived home. There was a lot to catch up on. As much as he wanted to finally relax after everything that happened in Balbadd he didn't really have the time for it. Even after catching up he would still have to prepare for his trip to the Kou Empire. And Ja'far wasn't letting him forget either responsibility.

None of this stopped him from having his slow mornings. He at least gave himself that little slice of heaven.

This was business as usual -at least it was supposed to be- but Sinbad couldn't shake a growing feeling that he couldn't name. It was making him unsettled. The waves didn't give him any answers and drinking hadn't made it go away. It felt similar to missing important.

He wasn't missing any paperwork. There had been an issue with one of their supply ships going missing, and another being delayed, but he had already decided how to proceed. He was definitely interested in the progress the Black Libra Tower was making with testing Mori's theories, but the experiments would take time and they had already scheduled a meeting for an update. The new guests were still settling in. Alibaba was a mess and Aladdin was only marginally better the last time he had visited, but Morgiana was fine and already training with Masrur regularly. According to the doctors reports, Mori would be better in another day or so, and the reports he got from the maids said she was resting every day after giving that partial scroll.

Maybe this was impatience. Aside from his paperwork, everything interesting was either done or waiting for the next step.

Sinbad often walked his country in the evening, but there was no reason he couldn't check on things now. He didn't have time to go for a walk at that moment, but he could spare the magoi needed to use Zepar and fly around the country using the bird he had possessed with the Djinn's power. This wouldn't be the first time he'd done this while working on paperwork.

The bird was sitting on a railing in the city center when Sinbad took over. From this spot he could make some quick rounds in the city and then maybe make a stop in the Black Libra Tower to get a sneak peak at what they had found out so far.

The same old gossip filled most of the streets. Some price complaints, who just had a child, how work was going...

"You're serious? A prophet?”

"My husband saw the scrolls she made from her visions with his own two eyes."

Now that was new gossip.

Sinbad had the bird land near by the two women.

"Oh? What was in them?"

"He said it was like reading secrets of the world."

"Really???"

"Mhmm." She nodded. "Not everyone believes it though so they are all working to test her writing."

"Didn't you just say she was brought in by our King? Do they really think he'd be fooled by some false prophet?"

"I said the same thing! And you know what my husband said? He said that they need to find proof even if they believe the Prophet because otherwise we won't be able to prove it to our allied countries."

"I guess that makes sense..."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh! I think I might know what she looks like!”

"What? How? You only learned about her just now."

"When King Sinbad came home, there was a girl on some magical flying cloth, remember? That has to have been the Prophet!"

"I think you're right!"

To two moved on to some other gossip and King had the bird fly towards the Palace. Listening to talk about his Beautiful Prophet reminded him of his mission to peek at what was happening in the Black Libra Tower. Being able to bypass the stairs and the gates made the journey much faster.

The Sun was already in the western side of the sky. Shadows were cast onto the court yard from the Black Libra Tower. The stone of the Green Sagittarius Tower was nearly blinding white from the direct light. Color flashed in the corner of his eye as the bird flew past the upper levels of the guest tower. Before his thoughts had fully registered the familiar shade of nearly black indigo, Sinbad was guiding the bird to investigate. He landed on the railing of one of the windows and looked at the young woman resting against that same window's frame.

Mori looked just as surprised to see a bird land right in front of her as he was to be there. Sinbad had purposely been avoiding using Zepar to spy on Mori since she somehow knew that he had eavesdropped on her before. It had been days since he last saw her, so when she was suddenly an option-

"Heh hehe"

Mori's chuckle and smile took his full attention. He didn't know what had made her laugh, but he hoped she'd do it again.

"Sir, are you aware you are a bird?” After the words passed her lips she was struck by a giggle fit.

Sinbad had no idea what she was thinking or why she had said that to a bird, but he was hearing her voice for the first time in nearly a week so he'd worry about figuring it out later.

When Mori finished laughing at her own joke she leaned her head to the side and watched him. Her hair shifted and another lock spilled over her shoulder. The sight brought attention to the low neckline of the dress she was wearing. If Sinbad was there in person he would have brushed her hair out of the way just to have an excuse to touch her.

"Did you miss me that much?" Her voice was soft and a bit playful. "You didn't have to use Zepar to visit me."

Mori knew it was him! Sinbad jolted and his head hit the back of his chair in his office. How could she tell? Only magicians could see magoi and Rukh to see the spell active on the bird.

"Sin, is something wrong?-” Ja'far had just entered the room to give his afternoon report.

King Sinbad raised a hand for him to be quiet and tapped Zepar's ring to explain the situation. He didn't want to talk and miss something Mori said or did.

The General's expression turned serious and nodded as he went quiet.

When Mori didn't get a response from the bird she added, "Are you surprised that I knew it was you?" Her smile was warm as the sun. "I have read your Fate many times, so I will always recognize you, my King."

Normally, the idea that someone could see through Zepar's magic would concern him, but this didn't. It strengthened his belief that Fate had guided Mori to him.

And the affectionate way she said "my King" at the end made him smile. The waves had moved like this a few times like the last time he had seen her in person, and when he learned she could also feel the waves. The Great Flow of the Rukh was guiding them to the Fate he could see, the one where she lived the rest of her life by his side.

Ja'far sighed. "Just let me know when I can give you my report."

Mori whipped her head towards the door to her room. "They're here early."

There were the sounds of people walking in the hallway, but no voices to denounce who, or their destination. All the same, Mori got up and walked to the door. She opened it before the doctors had a chance to knock.

"How did you...?" One of the doctors asked.

"I recognized the sound of your footsteps," was her answer.

"I see.... And how are you feeling today?"

Mori walked into her room, and spared a glance at the bird still watching her from the window. "I feel fine. Just like yesterday." She turned back towards the door and sat on the edge of her bed. "So can I finally leave this room?"

The doctors were understanding but they still were going to do a full check up first.

Even without the waves it was obvious that Mori was going to be marked as full health. Sinbad would prefer to go see her immediately and give her a tour of the Palace personally, but he was still a King with responsibilities. "Ja'far, Mori has just been declared healthy. What do you think of everyone having dinner together to get everyone better aquatinted?"

"I didn't hear anything about-” Ja'far started and then cut himself when he realized. "Were you just using Zepar to spy on her??"

"Of course not." Sinbad said with all of the confidence of the King he was. "I flew directly to her and she recognized me instantly. I wasn't spying at all."

"She recognized you??" Of course he'd be shocked.

King Sinbad laughed. "She did. Though she was surprised to see me."

"I bet she was surprised to suddenly see a bird in her room. What made you think to use Zepar instead of visiting her in person? You're already getting regular reports on her condition." Ja'far always acted as a buzz kill.

It didn't stop Sinbad from laughing at the situation before finally asking for that report he postponed earlier -conveniently avoiding answering Ja'far's question.

The magician in Mori's room was talking. "Would you be interested in visiting the Black Libra Tower with us? We can show you how the experiments are going. And if possible, would you be willing to answer some questions?"

That was an understandable request, but it could wear her out.

The Prophet was facing away from the windows so Sinbad couldn't see her expression. "I'd really like that actually." But he could hear the excitement growing in her voice.

"Let me get changed real quick." Mori disappeared behind her folding wall and emerged in the outfit he met her in.

Sinbad did not drop control of the bird, but he also didn't follow Mori out of her room. Instead he waited in the window sill until he saw her enter the courtyard and then had the bird fly to the Black Libra Tower.

---

As soon as he finished whatever last minute things Ja'far was about to add to his pile, Sinbad would go to the Black Libra Tower and surprise his Beautiful Prophet in person.

~POV Mori~

In the manga and in the anime the only areas shown of the Black Libra Tower were Yamuraiha's office/lab and one of the libraries. I was more than curious about the rest of the facilities.

The first room seemed to be a reception area and had a map of the tower. I only got to glance at the separations between the libraries, offices and class rooms before a tall and lanky magician walked up to us.

"Is this her??” Her short ponytail bounced as she looked between me and my guides.

Isa, the magician who had been taking care of me the past few days, introduced me. "This is Lady Mori, the Prophet!” He acted like he was showing off the coolest toy on the playground.

The tall woman got right up in my face. "I knew she had to be the Prophet! The Rukh don't normally move this way around people."

Before I got to respond she started rambling comments and questions that covered everything in maroon and peacock blue getting sponged across a cream canvas. I stepped back and Isa cut her off. "Lady Mori will be answering everyone's questions in time. We were just on our way to see Yamuraiha so I can show her how everything has been coming along. You are welcome to join us."

She definitely joined us. As did many others who spotted us or were called over by others in our procession.

We walked through a few library areas, and up a few flights of stairs. As we passed various rooms and areas I was told what or who would be inside, but I wouldn't remember any of the specifics until I had a chance to use the space and explore on my own. What did stick was that most of the classrooms were next to the libraries and the labs were near the offices.

Yamuraiha must have heard our group from down the hall because her head popped out from one of the rooms ahead of us. "What is going on out here??” Then she made eye contact with me. "It's you!!"

That made me smile. I fought back responding 'it's me!' like I would with my friends. "I'm Mori. I'm glad I'm finally getting the chance to meet you, Yamuraiha!” I stopped walking when I got 3 yards/meters away.

She immediately pulled her staff against her chest with both hands. Her shoulders tensed but she had an enthusiastic smile. "The pleasure is all mine!"

Yamuraiha was amazing, smart, and endearing. I really wanted to be friends with her.

I out stretched my hand to shake hers. "I'm really excited to work with you, and learn more about magic even though I'm not a magician."

"The feeling is mutual!” She took my hand more than matching my excitement. And when she released it said, "Since you're here, would you like to see what we've been working on from the scrolls you gave us?"

"Yes please!”

---

The lab she lead us to was a little down the hall. All of my scrolls were spread out on one table and a bunch of notes and different materials were on an other.

Yamuraiha pulled out parchment that had a complicated magic circle written on it. "We can't do much yet, and it still takes a catalyst and many magicians at once to control the amount of magoi safely but our alchemy magic has made a breakthrough from your writing."

She asked a few of the magicians that came with me to join her. They pointed their staffs and wands at the magic cycle. A large crystal in the room started glowing, and the Rukh lit up the space from within the circle. Specks were pulled out of the pile of ingredients nearby -dirt, scraps paper, a small potted plant- and gathered at the center of the circle. The light got too bright for me to look straight at it and when it faded there was a small dark grey cube in the middle of the circle. It looked like a die with no markings.

Yam explained. "After reading about 'atoms' and 'bonds' in your scrolls it was like finding the missing piece. It will still be a long time before we can perfect the process, and we still can't make anything bigger than this yet, but soon we will be able to make anything we want!"

((In the future I intend to: reference more old memes, describe more of my experience with synesthesia, and explain more basic history and science. SO you all have been warned lol))

I had to respond; I couldn't just continue staring in awe. When I tried to answer I ended up gasping since had forgotten to breathe. I chuckled at my own shock as well as the situation. I looked up at them. "You're all amazing to be able to develop this already from the little I wrote!" I looked back at the stone. "I knew I wrote the keys to Yunan's signature alchemy magic in those scrolls, but to think you've already gotten this far with it -its amazing."

With this -when developed farther- we could make certain materials without having to worry about the pollution, and break things down easily so we won't have to worry about garbage piling up everywhere.

"Did you say Yunan? The Magi, Yunan?" Yamuraiha looked at me with wide eyes.

"Yes." It was my turn to explain. "Yunan is able to use alchemy magic like this on a grand scale. In the Fates I read he will have reason to visit Sindria in about 2 years. He creates a cabin and food in the middle of the Palace court yard so he has somewhere comfortable to stay."

The bird in the window ruffled it's feathers.

"Yunan explains the basic concept of how that magic works when asked, and since I know the science of the physical world I know the details to what he was talking about." My smile widened. "I hope my notes were easy to understand. Please let me know if you have any questions."

[anondudeao3]

Fic Recs!

Since I'm on hiatus, I've finally had time to do some reading, and I thought I'd give some fic recommendations, since I won't be posting for quite a while. These are my absolute favourites!

(I'm splitting this into two posts — one for JayDick and one for JayTim — because now that I'm finished with the first half it's quite long)

JayDick

A Love Triangle With The Same Person

By: Chrystie, kate882

Word Count: 10,031

Summary: Dick might have a bit of a thing for Jason, one of Red Hood's criminal underlings. But he's also already a little in love with Red Hood.

→ Identity porn! Who doesn't love identity porn? Very cute and sweet.

Everything I Know

By: epistemology

Word Count: 12,360

Summary: Red Hood is a little bit in love with his partner, Nightwing, who has a huge crush on Jason Todd, the hot bookstore owner, who is actually the Red Hood, who is too busy being in love to notice Dick Grayson, who's actually Nightwing.

Jason and Dick fall in love with the wrong versions of each other, and things become complicated fast.

→ More identity porn, but this one is a lot more sort of missed connections, plus it has bookshop owner Jay who was never taken in by Bruce! It really has you begging SOMETHING to happen to somehow make them see that THEY ARE EACH OTHER, THEY ARE THE ONES THEY LIKE. AHHHH IT'S THE SAME PERSON. And when it finally does happen, it's so sweet and satisfying. (I recommend checking out their other fics too! Lots of sweetness.)

Lie To Me, Darling

By: Chrystie, kate882

Word Count: 19,214

Summary: Officer Dick Grayson is undercover in the infamous Red Hood's gang trying to track down the man behind the helmet. With his former partner killed for being found out, there's a new guy in the gang to take his place. Jason doesn't seem like the average new gang recruit, and Dick may be getting more than he bargained for trying to get close to him.

→ Okay, ngl I JUST now noticed that this one is by the same people as the first one, and I specifically didn't want to put multiple fics by the same people (just say I recommend checking out their other stuff, but not rec separately), but it's too late now and I don't have a 7th JayDick fic to recc that isn't also an author repeat, and I don't want it to be uneven.

But ANYWAY. This one will fuck you up, I can't lie. Unhappy ending, but if you can brave that, ohhh it's so good. It's so damn sweet whilst the good times last, even though you know it's only temporary and it's all going to go to hell at some point... man. It hurts. But it hurts so good. It's beautiful, and I personally think it's worth the pain.

Two Birds on a Wire

By: empires, pentapus

Word Count: 20,565

Summary: Dick asks Jason for help on a case. Jason should have never agreed.

→ It's probably laughable that I'm reccing this, since pentapus is one of the authors and their art is like huge in the JayDick fandom, and the fic has more than 22.5k views, which seems to be quite a lot as far as JayDick fics go. But in the event that you haven't read it yet... This is actually the very first JayDick fic I EVER read, it introduced me to the ship, and I just reread it and it's still just as amazing, what a winner to start out with!

The dynamic between Jay and Dick, the way Dick gets so into his undercover role, Jay's emotional turmoil, the action — it's all just absolute chef's kiss! It's so hard to write action well, and these two made this fic so engaging!

All Soulmates Final, No Refunds

By: empires, salvadore

Word Count: 38,900

Summary: Mystic Waters Grande Hotel sells itself as a luxury soulmate retreat with all manner of couple’s activities. The cost is high, and all is not as it appears on the hotel’s grounds. Dick and Jason go undercover as newlywed soulmates to find out what’s behind the rash of missing persons. And dig up old feelings in the process.

→ (Since empires was collaborating with two different people of the different fics, I don't count that as a repeat).

Well firstly, this is a rare Batman!Dick JayDick! And secondly, yes, one of the ubiquitous soulmate AUs. But with some very interesting twists! Also, like TBOAW above, the action in this is amazing, and absolutely had me on the edge of my seat. Similarly, their undercover personas were lots of fun, and it was very fun to see them push each other further and further with them.

Secrets of the Sea

By: ParzivalHallows

Word Count: 42,711

Summary: Being a merperson was dangerous enough, but being a merperson captured by pirates? That's got to be one of the worst fates for a merman. Merman Dick Grayson is captured by a slave ship, where he meets Jason Todd, who's a slave on that ship. Together, the two plan an escape. However, they need to put aside their odds first, which is very difficult for the two stubborn men.

→ I have to give you fair warning first, this one is incomplete and hasn't been updated since 2017, so I don't think it's ever going to be finished (but it can't hurt to leave a nice comment!) BUT WAIT, DON'T SCROLL YET, hear me out. It's really good, okay. You do need to mind the warning tags because there is major character death (not Jay or Dick though, and since it's not complete I'm kind of choosing to believe that they're not really dead and later in the story it actually turns out that they managed to survive).

There are a lot of grim things in this story, it's really about survival, but the worldbuilding is fucking phenomenal, and the author drew me right in. The descriptions and the action and emotion, the unexpected magic that they have to figure out? It's all so cool and well done.

Steady On Forward

By: JayseHasNoGrace

Word Count: 96,287

Summary: Dick Grayson's life has never been easy, but he'd like to think it's been going better lately. He's been operating mainly out of Gotham again for almost a year, and has been in a steady relationship for just over. He knows where he stands with crime-fighting, and the family is all on pretty good terms, considering.

Things are really going pretty well.

Unfortunately, the balance doesn't last long, and old horrors from Dick's past end up dredged up alongside new ones.

This is a story about love and family, but equally so about trauma and healing from it. Please heed the warnings in the preface.

→ Alright, the final JayDick rec, the longest, and the darkest. But wait, again, don't scroll! It's also by far the most hopeful AND FLUFFY. Now, the author is NOT fucking around about heeding those warnings, there's a shitload of them and it's really heavy, hard shit. Do not get me wrong, this fic is going to HURT you. But by the end, it's going to have felt so cathartic, and you're going so feel soft and hopeful and whole. I don't know how they did it, but it's SUCH an emotional rollercoaster. Another commenter on AO3 (mach5plus1) said it better than I could:

I gave this fic my whole heart, it took it, smiled and said “awwww, I’ll take care of it!“

Then started putting pressure on it and I told it “ouch, that hurts”

The fic kept smiling and put more pressure until a piece broke off (last chapter)

and then another (this chapter)

The fic keeps doing it until my heart is shattered into pieces and it’s standing over each shard with a frown saying “oops” (the upcoming chapters)

Then, after finding each piece again and picking them up, the fic will slowly push each piece back into place.

By the end it’ll give my heart back a little different, but somehow better than it was when I gave it away.

It will crush your heart, but it will lovingly patch it back together by the end, I promise. If you can read it without getting triggered, I thought everything was well handled, and it's so worth it. (I recommend checking out their other JayDick fic too, they only have one, but it's a fluffy romcom, so if you need a break after this one, that's there!)

[sharkbait77]

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Chapter Three

Warnings: Mention of food/alcohol, language, pure fluffy fluffiness (I'm such a softie I'm sorry 😭)

W/C: 4.2k

A/N: Notes at the bottom! And I'm running out of gifs to use of scruffy faced Marcus. I'm gonna have to shave him soon 👀 I hope you enjoy our soft boi in this chapter! 🥰

Just as a reference if you need help understanding the different formats:

«Phone conversation on their end»

Thoughts

Text messages

Song mentioned:

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

Gif by me! Yes it's Teresa but it still fits & I only care that it's his hand lol

«Oh my god, I'm melting!» Celina yells in her phone enthusiastically. You giggle as you wait for her eagerness to calm down.

You had barely taken your shoes and jacket off after getting inside your apartment when you immediately dialed up Celina's number to tell her about the night. You feel like you're having an out of body experience. Sure, your heart is still guarded and unfortunately, you'll most likely have your doubts throughout the relationship, but you truly feel like this could go somewhere. You want to give yourself that chance and allow Marcus to help heal your heart, maybe doing the same for him in return.

"So he's picking me up on Saturday and I'm freaking out a little," you say and chew on the skin around your nail beds.

«Why? Don't be! Just treat it like how you did tonight!» She encourages.

"But it's a legitimate date this time, I have to do my hair and makeup perfectly and find the perfect outfit and-"

«Girl, have you seen your closet? You have nothing but perfect outfits!» She teases and you chuckle, lowering your fingers from your mouth.

«You don't need to try to be perfect hun, just be yourself! Be the girl he has already seen in front of him.» You smile at her heartfelt words. «I bet he's already in love with you!»

"Okay, you're not helping!" You laugh, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll probably be calling you on Saturday so I can freak out some more."

You say your goodbyes and hang up, sinking yourself into your couch and smiling widely. Your head is buzzing from a sugar rush, but you can't tell if it's because of the pancakes or because of Marcus. You walk to the kitchen to make some sleepytime tea, hoping it'll relax your nerves enough for you to get some shut eye.

* * * *

You take a shower and climb into your comfy pajamas and the tea works its magic as you relax on your plush bed, surrounding yourself with pillows and your soft blanket enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes get heavy and you feel yourself on the brink of sleep when you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, but it vibrates again and you figure it's Celina probably sending you a funny video. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach over to grab your phone, the brightness from the screen stinging your eyes from the time they had adjusted to the darkness. You blink a few times until you can see the screen clearly.

555-9057: Hi Dulce :)

555-9057: Made it home. I had a great time :)

You bite your lip and smile at the messages on your lock screen, heat flashing through your head seeing him call you the nickname you gave yourself in his phone. And just like that, you're wide awake again. You unlock your phone and before you can type a reply, he sends another message.

555-9057: It's Marcus btw

Marcus groans to himself as he sends that last message. What the hell was that? Of course she knows it's you. Dumbass. He watches the screen and holds his breath when he sees the text bubbles pop up and he waits nervously for your reply.

Dulce💋: I'm glad you specified! Right after you dropped me off another guy took me out for dulce de leche pancakes and I also penned myself as Dulce in his phone 🤭

He chuckles out loud in the quiet atmosphere of his apartment, the sound bouncing against the walls and reverberating around the living room. Damn, she's good.

555-9057: Okay okay you got me, don't have to be so mean :P

So he's a classic emoji kind of guy, you smile as you make a note and file it in the little 'Marcus Pike' folder in your brain. You hit his phone number and tap the plus symbol to make a new contact in your phone. For some reason, you find yourself struggling as you try to figure out what to put his contact name as.

Agent Cutie

Nope, delete.

Agent Pike

What are you, his secretary? Delete delete.

Marcus

Should I put an emoji? Which one? Can't be a heart. You are seriously overthinking this.

Marcus Pike

Yeah, okay. I guess.

Me: Why did it take so long to get home? Do you live far?

Marcus Pike: It was about 30 min from your place :) not too bad

Thirty minutes?! Great, now I feel bad.

Dulce💋: Wth if I had known I wouldn't have let you drop me off! 🙄

Me: Don't worry about it! I was more than happy to ;)

Shit shit shit I didn't mean the wink! Why are they right next to each other?! Do I say something? Oh god, way to go, you ruined it.

Dulce💋: Then I'll give you gas money!

Marcus takes a breath of relief when he sees that you sidestepped his accidental wink emoji. After he catches his breath, his phone chimes again.

Dulce💋: And I won't take no for an answer 😉

Okay, there's no way she sent that by accident. Is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Why are my hands so sweaty?

Dulce💋: It's time for bed, those pancakes made me sleepy 😴 good night Marcus ☺️ See you Saturday!

Marcus smiles to himself and he anticipates seeing you on Saturday. He sends you another text and walks to his restroom to take a quick shower before climbing in bed.

Marcus Pike: Can't wait :) good night!

There's no way you can sleep now, but you said good night for his sake; he had a long day at work, plus he took you out and then had a long drive home. You know he must be tired. Your heart races as you scroll through your short text conversation, rereading the messages and giggling softly.

Did he mean to wink? It was probably an accident, considering he types out emojis instead of using the newer, more convenient ones. You just couldn't help but send one back, though; hiding behind the screen helped you to flirt openly with him. You roll onto your side to face the TV on your dresser, turning on a true crime documentary and letting it eventually lull you to sleep.

* * * *

Saturday comes around quickly, much to your delight, but as you wander around your room looking at the many outfits you laid out on your bed, your dresser, even on your couch, the nerves set in fast. You pray to whoever’s listening that you don’t seize up when Marcus picks you up. Which is in fifteen minutes. You already have your hair and makeup done, all you need is to pick an outfit. Simple in theory. Just pick one! You chew your lip nervously out of habit before stopping as soon as you realize you probably just messed up the red lipstick you had applied earlier.

You rush to the bathroom mirror and sure enough, there's a bare spot on your bottom lip and the lipstick has transferred to your front teeth. You groan in frustration and grab a makeup wipe to carefully remove the ruined lipstick and you brush your teeth again until it's all gone. You reapply the same shade of red, pleasantly surprised with yourself that it came out better than the first time. You take a deep breath and try to calm down, telling yourself that the first outfit you land your eyes on will be the one you wear. You count down from three in your head and enter your bedroom.

Okay, maybe not that one. You decide to close your eyes and try again. When you open your eyes, they land on a different outfit. Not that one either. You sigh harshly through your nose. Why is this so hard? You walk over to your nearly empty closet for the umpteenth time and your eyes catch on to a dress hidden in the corner that you had surprisingly missed before. This one.

It's a spaghetti strapped, black, bodycon dress with a lace overlay, flowers printed on the fabric throughout. It hugs your body in all the right places, reaching down to your knees, and you take a look in the floor length mirror next to your dresser as you put on your black, open-toed heels, smiling brightly as you feel confidence shooting through your veins.

Adrenaline gets mixed in as soon as you hear a knock on your door. Five on the dot. You grab your black cardigan and purse off the couch and open the door, your breath taken away by the handsome man in front of you. He's carrying a box of chocolates and it fumbles in his hands, nearly falling once his wide eyes see you. He looks at you from head to toe, making your heart race as you feel heat rushing over your body in line with his gaze and you shift your weight from side to side anxiously.

"Wow," he says breathlessly, unable to say anything afterwards.

"Wow yourself," you smile, looking over his own outfit: a navy blue suit and a black, button up shirt underneath, paired with black dress shoes. He slicked his hair back and cleaned up his beard slightly. He really is a gorgeous man.

"Uh," he stutters and glances to the box in his unknowingly tight grasp. "These are for you," he smiles shyly as he hands you the chocolates.

"Thank you," you say, giggling at the indents his fingers made on the sides of the box and you turn around to leave them on your entryway table.

You turn back to face him and see his eyes look up quickly and you wonder if you just caught him staring at your bottom. Your suspicion is confirmed when his cheeks flush pink. You laugh softly and he holds his arm out to you.

"Ready?" He asks and you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

You nod and link your arm in his, letting him help you down the stairs. You're starting to love the way his arm hugs yours as you walk and the warmth of his body mixing with yours. Your footsteps even sync up together in a slow cadence. He walks you to his car, letting you hold your weight with his arm as you slowly lower in the seat, your movement restricted by your tight dress and high heels.

You thank him once you're seated, buckling your seatbelt, and he walks to his side, sitting down and starting the car. You notice the radio is on this time, playing at a low volume, and you think to yourself that he probably only forgot to turn it on last time.

The aura is tense in the car, both of your nervous energies dancing in the air together to the music. You try to think of something to say, resorting to looking through your mental file of basic conversation starters. The weather? No, too basic. Say something about the music. No-

"You look really beautiful," Marcus finally breaks the silence. Your head snaps up to look in his direction and you share a smile, thanking him and returning the compliment.

He takes his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at you with a soft smile and turns his attention back to driving straight. He would keep his eyes on you if he could, but he'd rather not get into a car accident and ruin the night. So he just waits patiently until the next moment he can steal a glance. He takes a peek at you while you're stuck at a red light and he sees you picking at your cuticles nervously. He rubs his clammy palm on his pant leg, hoping to dry up any sweat present as much as possible. Before he can think twice about it, he reaches his hand over to grab yours.

Your heart jumps in your throat from the action and you look down in shock at his large hand covering yours completely. The blood rushes to your cheeks; his hand is rough from work, but soft and gentle enough that it's not uncomfortable. And warm. So warm. You stop picking your cuticles immediately, now memorizing the fine wrinkles in his hand and the ridges on his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" He asks, not moving his hand from your lap as he starts driving again.

"Yeah," your voice makes an embarrassing harmony, splitting in two different octaves from disuse. You swallow some saliva to lubricate your vocal cords and try speaking again.

"I'm just a little nervous," you admit.

His hand is still resting on top of yours; you're not sure if you should open your hand up to face your palms together and hold his hand as well. Alas, you take too long to make a decision and he pulls his hand away to grasp the steering wheel, bracing for a left turn.

"Please don't be nervous," he smiles with his pearly white teeth and it only makes you more nervous. How is he this handsome?

"It's just me," he adds as he pulls up to the restaurant, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.

"'Just you'?" You quote him inquisitively. He nods and you shake your head with a small chuckle.

"What?" He chuckles with you.

"It's not 'just you' though, is it?" You reply softly.

You wonder if he's uncertain of himself and his ability to make women — i.e. you — weak in the knees. He seems oblivious to it and it makes him all the more charming to you. You see his eyebrows furrow and before he can ask what you mean, you turn to open the car door.

"Wait," he tells you, rushing out of his seat and over to you to help you out.

You wanted to manage it yourself, but you know you must look ridiculous with how bad you're struggling to get out of the car. He chuckles at the sight once he's on your side and he holds his arm out. You hold onto his forearm tightly and pull yourself upward as he lifts you as well until you're firmly planted on your feet.

"Maybe this dress wasn't a good idea after all," you giggle.

"I think it was," he flirts and you look away as you smile shyly.

You walk together up the steps to the front of the restaurant and Marcus apologizes for not warning you about the stairs. You tell him not to worry and though you can feel the ache in the arches and heels of your feet, you don't complain. He holds the door open for you and you walk in, your eyes instantly catching on the glimmering, crystal chandelier hanging in the waiting area. The lights are dimmed in an amber glow and there are pillars with intricate carvings and vines wrapped around the stone throughout the entirety of the establishment.

You gasp to yourself; this place must be expensive. How did you go from pancakes at grandma's house to a fancy, Italian restaurant like this? Your ears catch the sounds of a violin, but it's too close to just be playing from a speaker. Sure enough, you look further into the restaurant and see a man in a suit playing a violin. A live violinist?! Marcus joins your side again and notices the look of astonishment on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asks and you jerk your head to look at him, not even realizing he was standing next to you.

"Marcus, this looks like it's going to be really expensive."

You whisper in his ear so you don't offend any of the staff members and the height from your heels allows you to reach his head a little better now. The hot breath from your mouth tickles his ear and a bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. He laughs it off and leans his mouth to your ear in return.

"I like to make a fuss," he says, the deep tone of his voice giving you goosebumps. "Don't worry about it," he says in his normal tone as he stands up straight again.

The maître d' greets you two as you walk up to the host stand and Marcus gives the man his name for the reservation. The maître d' informs Marcus the table is not quite ready yet, adding that you're welcome to wait at the bar. Marcus looks at you to get your opinion; you say yes and Marcus lightly places his hand on the middle of your back, guiding you as you walk over to the bar top together. You take a seat in the soft barstool; it's easier to sit on since it's basically at standing height. Marcus removes his hand from your back to take a seat, his fingers gliding against the delicate lace of your dress across your spine and you shudder. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

The back of the bar is riddled with an assortment of different liquors, both American and Italian, and they're resting on lit up shelves. You look at the drink menu and your mouth opens in horror at the prices listed. This is definitely too much money. The bartender comes your way and Marcus orders a campari and grapefruit juice, immersing himself fully in the Italian culture. You say you'll stick with water and excuse it as you not feeling like drinking tonight. Marcus doesn't question it further.

The two of you comment on the decor of the restaurant, mainly the paintings hanging on the walls, and you mention that you love the lilies resting in the painted, ceramic vases and Marcus takes note of that fact. A waitress walks up to you and Marcus to let you know your table is ready and he finishes the last of his drink and stands, offering you his hand this time instead of his arm. You smile as you take it, your heart thumping in your chest as you let him guide you while you both follow the waitress.

The restaurant is bustling; heavy sounds of conversation and cutlery clinking on plates as you walk through what seems the entirety of the restaurant until the waitress leads you to a small, private patio. A round table is seated there, covered by a red tablecloth and adorned with a single, tall candlestick, burning a light glow. There's a cylindrical basket full of bread sticks and two water glasses, condensation running along the sides and onto the cloth. Marcus pulls your chair out for you, helping you to sit and scooting you in and sits down across from you. You hang your cardigan and purse on the back of your chair and take the menu the waitress is holding out to you.

You both thank her and she leaves, stating she'll be back soon to take your order. You marvel at the privacy Marcus planned for you two and you take a sip of your ice cold water, reveling in the relief washing through your dry throat. You flip open your menu; the options are minimal and are all expensive. You immediately scan for the cheapest dish: a $30 plate of chicken cacciatore. You feel guilty; you never want Marcus to break his bank trying to take you on a date. You glance at him and wonder why he would do all of this just for you. Did he really think you were that special?

You find yourself missing that little pancake diner and the time you shared there. There, you only felt the budding emotions consistent with a high school crush, but in this moment now, it's real life and mature adult feelings and you feel it much stronger in this environment. Marcus senses your mood change and leans forward to ask if you're okay, but he's interrupted by the waitress. You order the 'cheap' chicken cacciatore and he orders the tajarin al tartufo. Whatever that is.

"Why did you order the cheapest dish?" Marcus asks once the waitress leaves.

"Because I wanted to," you give him a sly smile to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through you, giving you a look of disbelief. You sigh.

"Because Marcus, it's too much money," you say sadly. "I mean, how much was it to get this private patio set up?"

"That's not important to me," he shakes his head. "This is our first proper date and I wanted to make it special."

Damn it. Why is he so thoughtful? And so damn cute?

"It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm blown away by this, but I'm just... I'm not used to it," you pull your lips into your mouth slightly, mindful of your lipstick.

"Is that why you didn't order a drink?" He asks. You give him a lopsided frown and shrug your shoulders, your expression answering him instead of your words. He sighs and tilts his head to the side.

"I don't want you to worry about how much everything costs when you're with me; let me spoil you. You deserve it."

Let me spoil you. You deserve it. His words float around in your head, your eyes filling with fondness at the thought. You didn't think you deserved to be spoiled; your ex made sure of that much. It's exhilarating to say the least; this man you barely know ready to do anything for you at any time. But you like it, and you think in time, you could learn to love it. Learn to love him. You blink wildly and you inconspicuously shake your head at that last thought.

It was definitely way too soon to be thinking like that and it scared you that it entered your mind at all. It must be the ambiance of the restaurant. You think about how you should protect yourself in case this takes a wrong turn and you debate on placing that in the priority spot in your mind. Marcus can see you fighting your own thoughts and he tries to lighten the mood.

"I also might be trying to impress you for real now," he smiles.

You chuckle and shake your head. Marcus thinks to himself how beautiful you look under the moonlight that's shining through the glass awning above your heads, face lit up by the glowing candle. He can't stop his mouth from saying what he wants to say, not in this romantic atmosphere.

"I think you're a wonderful, beautiful woman and... I really like you," he adds, reaching across the table for your hand and you let him hold it, tangling your fingers with his.

You're positive he can feel your pulse through your fingers or hear your heart pounding, the blood whooshing in your ears muffling any other sounds from coming in. As much as you want to protect yourself, the look in his eyes only draws you in and you can't hide the truth from him or yourself, your confession spoken out loud for the first time for you both.

"I like you, too, Marcus." He smiles happily at you.

There must be something in the water here.

"Do you think it would be okay to keep this up?" He asks, meaning the dates, and you can't stop your head from nodding yes and you give him a sweet smile.

Marcus lets go of your hand, letting his rest in front of him and you take a deep breath, trying to shake your nerves from the exchange that just took place between you. You grab a bread stick and attempt to take a small bite; you and Marcus laugh together as your small bite accidentally turns into a big one, the stick breaking in the wrong place and leaving a large chunk of bread hanging from your mouth. Of course, leave it to something awkward happening to you to break the tension. But anything to see his face come together in joyous laughter.

* * * *

"Thank you again Marcus, that was actually very delicious," you say while Marcus begins the drive back to your apartment. "I see why it was so expensive." He hums in agreement; his smile hasn't left his face since the restaurant.

You listen closely to the new song that comes on the radio, trying to make out the tune until it gets louder and you realize it's "At Last" by Etta James.

"I love this song," you say under your breath. Marcus hears you and turns up the volume slightly, earning a bright smile from you. You look back out the window and sing the lyrics softly.

At last, my love has come along,

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song.

Marcus's heart races as he listens to the lyrics being sung by you and they hit a little too close to his heart. You don't realize at first the meaning behind them, only enjoying singing along.

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover,

The night I looked at you.

You now realize the words are identical to how you feel. You wonder if you're falling too fast for Marcus. This was only your second date and there is still so much to learn about each other. You have a whole past to open up about, which will be a defining moment for your relationship. But as you look over at Marcus and you feel the tender organ in your chest beating fast, you think to yourself that it can't get much better than this. What's the harm in trying?

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

A/N: Okay just wanted to explain what Marcus ordered if you're interested! *DESCRIPTION OF FOOD/ALCOHOL COMING UP* I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong! According to Google:

Campari is an Italian bitters made of fruit & herbs & you usually mix it with juice or club soda (hardcore Italians drink it straight up) & it's a pre-meal drink

Tajarin al tartufo is an egg pasta, made with more egg whites than traditional egg pastas, & topped with white truffle. Idk it sounded fancy & expensive 😂

Also, here's their outfit inspos! Just a couple of things I described differently like his shirt being black & her dress having lace instead of mesh.

Ofc Marcus in this suit 🥵 I copied the description lol

TAG LIST:

@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana

[kaisa-ryo]

— perverted diary

jujutsu kaisen

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x reader

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

- thus, the linear speed of a point moving evenly around a circle ... - the teacher's voice echoed in your head. I couldn't concentrate. or rather, it worked, but not at all in school.

you looked at the megumi who was tapping softly on the desk with a pencil. in appearance you cannot say that he is somehow especially joyful today. and any other day. in general, he is like a diligent student helping classmates and teachers. but something still turned you on in him.

right now you wanted everyone to leave the physics class, and he was alone with you, closed the office, sat on the table and it all started like in films about reckless teenagers.

but it was impossible even to imagine that such a thing was possible in principle. all you could do was watch him draw hieroglyphs in his notebook with a pencil, bring his legs together with desire and dream.

I still can't believe that it all started with this damn homework you asked me to explain.

why exactly with him? what was the problem with asking your friend about it?

now, of course, it was useless to blame myself for it. what is done is done. nothing can be changed. and yet ... if you think about it - it was not such a stupid act, since you finally began to feel something like interest. however, this interest could be biased.

damn. how much I wanted to have him right here, taking it as sweet revenge.

***

“I dream about how he made me flood the whole school desk with his grease ... how would he do it? long foreplay or just cum inside ... "

you entered into your personal diary your obscene desires, which appeared in your head again and again, like in a sucking swamp, and with each new stream of words it became more and more specific. hands trembled with the desire to touch his dark hair, cold cheeks and hard muscular chest. and it was, of course, intoxicating when you wrote it in your diary, until, looking into your briefcase, I realized that instead of a notebook with notes, you gave your personal diary.

Oh. you have never reproached yourself so much for your own stupidity. heck. what if he is reading this right now? now? fuck, how much has he already read there? he already knows everything about you. what if he thinks you're a pervert now? what if he doesn't want to communicate anymore?

remembering everything down to the last line that was in that diary, you buried your face on the pillow, pressing it to your ears on both sides. and the longer you thought about it, the more angry you got at yourself. all your confidence and innocence was blown away by the wind. maybe he won't guess to open it? not. he has already read everything. ashamed. ashamed. pervert. how embarrassing ...

***

today you no longer looked at him so charmingly. now you only cared about one thing - whether he read this diary and what he now thinks of you. memories of past recordings came back into my head. the face has acquired a reddish tint. you didn't want to look at fushiguro. you didn't succeed. he seemed to have settled in your head, and any other thought only reminded of him. now the end has come to your academic performance.

the call from the last lesson made you flinch and for a second forget about everything that you were non-stop scrolling in your head. either from irritation, or from relief, you sighed and began to collect all the textbooks in your briefcase. what you most feared happened.

- stay in the office for a while, please. - said Fushiguro, taking you by the forearm.

one could expect everything: lectures, threats, yells, insults, but not an offer to stay alone with him in class. the tone of his voice seemed strange to you. you hesitated. As the students left the classroom, discussing the coming weekend, you had a bad feeling. you stood still, trembling with excitement. my heart was beating like mad so that it seemed as if the megumi standing next to him heard it. eyes darted to the brunet, then to the people leaving the class. the lump in my throat gradually grew, and with it panic grew.

finally, there was no one left in the office except both of you. all the same, without leaving a single millimeter, you watched in awe as the megumi turned the key in the door twice.

his knees shook and his mouth went dry when he tossed the same diary he took out of his backpack onto your desk. The diary didn't look the same as the day before: a bunch of colorful bookmarks stuck out of the pages, and the word "personal" was also crossed out on the cover and corrected to "perverted." somehow that word had a paralyzing effect on you. as if she bared your mind and made you feel humiliated in front of a person who does not leave your head every day.

- Let's start with the fact that it contains a lot of spelling mistakes. - Fushiguro suddenly began.

you couldn't get out a word. spelling mistakes? and that's all you paid attention to? you damn nerd!

- secondly: y/n, - he turned over several pages and pointed his finger at the line "I want to fuck him right now, in this very place, on this very desk ..."

rereading the line over and over again, as if trying to understand the meaning, you felt the brunette come up behind you.

- why should I help you with your lessons, when you yourself write out only your dirty thoughts, and not the words of the teacher?

heck. megumi. did you really close the office just to scold me?

- and thirdly, - he began to press against your back, and his hand lay on his hips, - how can you even feel an orgasm if no one bothered to lead you to this? - his breath was felt on your ears, from which goosebumps ran from head to toe - only those who have it all the time can feel it. when you cum - you feel it. when you think about sex, you are simply sure that it is good and continue. - he removed his hand and turned you to him, bringing his face as close to yours as possible.

- so I suggest that you really experience these feelings right now.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*