#I’ll probably expand more on it later when I think about it more.
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howlsofbloodhounds · 6 months ago
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this may sound a little strange but when it comes to the utmv fandom and in universe meta aware characters interacting with ones who aren’t aware, I like to approach it more from like a religious or spiritual belief standpoint. so like, to others, characters like killer and ink seem either really religious or spiritual (ink) or really superstitious/religious/indoctrinated (killer). ink believes in creators, but to killer, those creators are actually more like players.
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piscesmerc26 · 5 months ago
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Shining a light on “unfavorable” placements. pt.1
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Within astrology, I notice a lot of people addressing only the dark sides of dark placements. These placements being considered as unfavorable and or “unfortunate”. However, tougher aspects/placements are generally considered to be gifts, though they are challenges, I see them as direct callings on what allows the individual to reach success. I am not a professional but these are patterns/observations I make from personal experience and life all around me. Now buckle up, this’ll be a long post, I’ll be discussing only planetary/object placements, next part will be aspects however, less descriptive.
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12H & 8H Suns and Moons
12H Suns are considered to be unfavorable however, this placement is actually a gift, though the sun is ��shadowed” in this area; individuals with 12H are actually here on a mission, though it is bleak to see, individuals with this placement have power and it’s not even locked potential, it’s just power that they cannot see themselves but naturally exude. 12H suns are directly connected to the subconscious, they have this “one foot in one foot out” approach to reality, they are immensely creative and are gifted with compassion at early ages, though they don’t realize it, they tend to be ahead of the game in the early stages of life
12H Moons; these individuals are given heavy emotions, probably even a transformative connection with their mother, their emotions is where their spiritual knowledge lies, they have strong intuition and are the true empaths of astrology. Those with this placement are driven by their feelings, they know the ins and outs and have all the secrets, this is more hidden/internal knowledge, similar to 12H suns, they can gain a lot of knowledge later in life
Now 8H Suns/Moons are similar to one another. Individuals with these placements have true power in them, and they are gifted with depth and intensity that people are actually afraid of. These are the type of people to get told something toxic about themselves and they hit you with a “I know.” or they will outwardly tell you themselves (If other points in the chart agree). They are masters when it comes to shadow work and they are constantly changing–if you don’t see them for at least a month and they come back, their mindset could have taken a complete 180, for better or for worse. The 8H expands everything it touches, it creates an intense amount of depth to the matter. These individuals also tend to have a lot of people that will outwardly try to put them down, whether it is directly or indirectly, they also tend to have karma on their side. Their Image(Sun) and their emotions(moon)are heavily protected and praying on these individuals' downfall is like asking for a spiritual ass whooping.
Mercury in Pisces & Sagittarius:
Having Mercury in Pisces is an unfavorable placement, these individuals could be seen as forgetful, in a constant cycle of daze, and emotionally detached. However, the thoughts that boil within the brain of this placement is insane. I mean, we have a civil rights activist and a famous genius with this placement, if that doesn’t tell you anything idk what to tell you. These individuals are gifted with a lot of creativity, their thoughts actually run a mile a minute, they are typically well versed in various hobbies, these are the type of people if you ask what they do they might not give you one answer and hang around them long enough, you will see them having a new hobby every week. The ADHD masters, they’ll tell you they never played an instrument and hop on and immediately sound like an intermediate musician. These people have seen and heard it all, they are intelligent and their words hold weight. They say one thing and it’ll last you a lifetime, their advice sits in the back of people’s minds, their words are food for the soul, everything they say is more calculated and meaningful than even they think themselves. Truly underrated.
Next my lovely Sagittarian Mercuries. These individuals could be seen as rude, blunt, obnoxious, and or lacking emotional depth but just like their jupiterian sister pisces; they are much wiser than they put on. These individuals are witty, they are intelligent, they are humorous, their words hold power as well, they tell the truth and they build people up, they’re down to earth and self-assured, they have a way of making people listen, they are captivating in their words and can be lyrically gifted, natural poets in their own way.
Cadent Dominant Placements:
Being Cadent Dominant in my learnings is considered to have most of your placements within the 3H, 6H, 9H, and 12H. In addition, in case you don’t know, cadent houses are the houses further away from the angular houses and after the succedent houses, they tend to be where the most work has to happen are seen as challenging placements to have. Now, these individuals are smart as fuck, for lack of a better term. They are gifted with an inner drive, a drive that not many people will see or understand but themselves, these individuals have the power of moving masses. Though their efforts are indirect, they tend to hit people when it’s least expected–driven, misunderstood and powerful. 3H placements are well versed in communication, 6Hers know how to get shit done, 9Hers and 12Hers are mass movers and the backbone influencers. Having these placements indicate someone important, possibly even beyond a metaphysical sense. They don’t stop until they win and their perseverance is remarkable just as their lives are.
Saturn/Uranus/Pluto Ruled or Dominance (etc.)
Talk about “fuck around and find out”, these indivudals are like the older or even the middle children in astrology, many people with significant Pluto/Saturn/Uranus in their chart, this includes being ruled(MC & ASC), having it as a dominant planet, placed within the 1H, or aspecting Sun/Moon/Asc–tend to be protected like crazy. They tend to go through a lot of inner struggle and tend to constantly have something to work on, it’s like once they’re done with one lesson they’re given another. It’s like being stuck with chores all day and you’re finally done with your last one and once you’re about to step outside or go to your room to lay down, their parents call them and ask them to do something else and the cycle goes on lol. These individuals are resilient and are hardworking, they’re unique and nothing generally gets past them, you fuck with them, you’re fucking with their team as well, and best believe the universe is ready to dish back what you sent in tenfold; this even applies to the individual, but they rarely fuck up cause they know how it can get everytime. Gifted with power, control and drive, these individuals are goal-oriented, they don’t let anything get in their way and if there is even a slight indication of a distraction about to occur, they shut it down real quick. I like this.
Saturn in Angular Houses (1H, 4H, 7H, 10H) and HM: 5H.
Saturn in these houses are hard hitting. Cracking my knuckles because I’m about to go IN. I will state the
To start, Saturn in the 1H, these individuals are constantly met with lessons that have to do with their identity, they will be put in situations where they are physically limited and their identity is limited/restricted, these people will obsess over themselves and hold themselves to a high standard. However, even through this, these individuals not only directly have karma on their side, but they are ultimately gifted with a deep knowing of self, they build their identity and it is a literal weapon to anyone who brings murky intentions into their world, simply because of how resilient they are and how much they worked through restriction in the past.
For Saturn in the 4H, they may have had issues that involved restriction with their family, this is heavy because they sat through that for their entire lives, up to 18 and possibly even further than that. These individuals weren’t able to make a house a home or generally find a proper home. In their older years, they work with this energy to make a place for themselves and others, they have the power of compassion and comfort.
For Saturn in the 7H & 5H, these individuals are known to have tough luck in love, relationships are rare and if they have many relationships, they are often restrictive and unsatisfactory. They may struggle additionally with their sense of worth and bear a false outlook on love. However, in some moments in their younger years and in their older years, they possess deep knowledge on love, they seem to take it seriously and their love is rich, they are gifted with deep compassion and the ability to be long term with other people. They have unforgettable love, and they are typically unforgettable people as a whole.
Lastly for Saturn 10H, these people could feel restricted career wise, they may feel that they’re always being attacked in their reputation and are held from their true potential, however, they actually overextend themselves more than what they were meant, they can influence and hold a lot of power.
These can also be applied to Pluto as well, with more of a transformative foundation, however, Saturn and Pluto tend to be both extremely transformative planets.
Chiron in Succedent Houses (2H, 5H, 8H, 11H)
These placements tend to fit in a similar category, they are often scarred with themes that are prioritized in life; Money, Fun, Transformation and Community. They tend to see others experience joy and balance within these themes however, they find that this is the source of their trauma and unhealthy codependency that they desire to break away from. Ultimately, these individuals are gifted with strength and influence, they are creative, influential and open-minded when conflicts are properly addressed.
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In this post, I went into depth on placements that have more power than what is spoken about them; however, the dark tends to hold more truth about the light than the light does of itself. The placements listed are powerful and resilient, gifted with all sorts of things, and if you believe that something in your chart is insignificant, understand that astrology is a tool to access potential, it can hint at traits but it is not a concrete definition because there are other calculations that exist and have existed even beyond Traditional Western astrology. Next part will be on aspects, thank you for reading.
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- J🧡
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bbyseok · 6 months ago
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expanding on this post, where you kiss gojo and he starts floating
gojo satoru x gn!reader
you’re greeted with the light of dawn streaming in, and the tickle of white tufts of hair against your chin. satoru’s body is curled close, one of his arms and his legs thrown over you.
it’s not the first time you’ve stayed overnight in gojo’s dorm room, but this is your first time staying over now that you’re a couple. it had been like any other night, but more meaningful touches and a shared buzz of warmth in your chests. and you had fallen asleep in his bed, entangled with his coziness.
but it’s morning now, and you know you should probably leave before yaga finds out you’re not in your own dorm. so somehow, you manage to wring yourself free from satoru’s grasp, even though he mumbles sleepily in complaint.
you can’t help but scoff fondly, peering down at him. his hands feel around in the space you had just been, a groan resonating from his chest as he blearily squints.
a small laugh creeps out of you then, “g’morning, ‘toru.” you bend down to brush your lips against his fleetingly, “i’ll see you in class later.”
when you leave his dorm and hear a soft ‘thud’, you think nothing of it. but it’s only a few steps down the hallway that you realize that you left your uniform jacket hanging on the edge of satoru’s bed.
so you head back, knocking twice on the door to let him know about your presence before opening it.
only to see that your boyfriend that you had left on the bed just moments ago was no where to be seen.
your brows furrow. “satoru? where are you?”
“up here, darling.”
and then your gaze flits up, up, up, just above the mattress. it’s gojo, on the ceiling, looking disheveled with his bed hair a mess, a sheepish grin on his lips.
“uhh, satoru?” you approach the bed, no longer concerned about your jacket as you stare up at him. “what’re you doing up there?”
he blinks down at you. “i woke up.”
you snort. “get down.”
“…i can’t.”
there’s a pause of silence, a period of staring at each other. you’re even more confused. “what do you mean you can’t?”
“i just can’t!”
it’s too early for this, and you’re sure that your chance of being discovered by yaga has shot up by a considerable amount.
“gojo satoru. just deactivate your technique.”
he pouts down at you. “you don’t think i tried that? i don’t know what happened, okay? i woke up from head-butting the ceiling, and even worse, to you gone without a word!”
it’s funny, how he’s much more upset about the fact that you had left him in bed alone rather than the fact that he’s stuck up there.
and it’s also really funny that he was sleepy enough that he didn’t remember you kissing him farewell not even five minutes ago.
“‘toru,” you laugh, shaking your head, “i said good morning and i kissed you.”
aaand now he remembers. he blinks once, twice.
“oh.”
and this time, you burst into a fit of giggles, to which gojo dopily grins down at you — happy that he’s the cause of it, even if it’s because he’s a little silly.
“i can’t believe you still floated even with you still half asleep.” you say, inching even closer to the bed and tilting your head further back to look up at him. “can you seriously not come back down?”
usually after he gets kissed, you or someone else is there to ground him before he floats off, and if not, he regains his composure soon after.
satoru’s pout deepens, fumbling and adjusting his awkward position on the ceiling. “nope.”
with a groan, you toe off your shoes and move to stand on the bed, hands grasping at his shirt and tugging in an attempt to bring him down.
“ugh, come on.”
you try with his hands next, and he’s all too eager to twine your fingers together as you tug on them too. he still isn’t budging.
“babe..” he starts, and you hear his cheeky grin before you see it, “think you needa kiss me again.”
you give him a pointed look. “and why in the world would that work?”
“c’mon, trust me,” satoru pries with a slight whine, “you did this, maybe you can undo it.”
you blink at him incredulously. “i did this? it’s not my fault you turn into a balloon every time i-” you shake your head when he does nothing but stare pleadingly. “fine, fine.”
you lean up on wobbly toes to give him the second kiss of this morning. it’s short but sweet all the same, and gojo chases after your lips as you pull away.
“see, i told you it wouldn-”
satoru yelps and crashes down on top of you, the two of you landing smack down on the bed.
you groan, trapped underneath his weight. at least you know now to be extra careful with your kisses. you can feel him nosing at the underside of your jaw teasingly.
“heh, good morning to you too, sweetheart.”
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green-butterfly-writes · 2 months ago
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Little Thief (Part 4)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Summary: Bruce arrives home in the middle of patrol with a cold, broken, scarred kid in his arms and no explanation as to where they came from. Alfred takes care of them.
Notes: this is from Alfred’s perspective, so you also get no context as to how little fox ended up here :)
Trigger Warning for implied/reinforced child and animal abuse. Also Alfred helps reader strip and shower, but that is explicitly consensual.
I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.
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Alfred Pennyworth was convinced that Bruce had an adoption addiction. The man couldn’t seem to go more than a couple years before coming home with another child clinging to his cape. Alfred was certain that one of these days he’d get fed up with the ever-expanding list of people he had to care for, and yet every time he laid eyes upon another unfortunate soul brought in by his own sad little orphan boy, his heart melted with care. He loved every one of the young masters with all his heart and soul. He loved his family even if it did expand in the most inconvenient and sudden of ways.
Like now, standing in the cave, looking upon the imposing figure of the Batman, and the child cradled carefully in his arms. The kid had tangled, unkempt hair, soaked, muddy clothes, and bruises just barely visible from beneath the sleeve of their oversized shirt. They gripped onto the long black cape like their life depended on it, and stared Alfred down over their shoulder with blurry, unforced eyes.
“This is Alfred,” Batman’s low voice echoed into the silence of the cave, “I trust him with my life, and so do the others.” The look in the child's eyes softened slightly, and their grip on the cape relaxed. “He will help you.” 
“If you’re willing,” Alfred quickly corrected, not wanting to scare off the child. It was intended to be an offer, but unless you were familiar with how Bruce cared for those around him, it would probably sound like a command. 
After a moment of hesitant consideration, the shaking figure clutched in the Batman’s arms nodded in approval. 
“They are having difficulty walking, so I’ll carry them for now” Bruce informed, and so Alfred led the way up out of the cave, through the first floor and up to the second, into the wing that housed all of the bedrooms, and into a (thankfully just cleaned) guestroom. When that got to the ensuite bathroom Alfred motioned for Bruce to set the child on the rather long countertop.
“Alfred will take care of you from here, ok?” Bruce double checked, and the child answered with a more confident nod, as Alfred sped around the bathroom adjusting the water temperature and gathering supplies.
Once Bruce left the guest room, Alfred turned to his new responsibility. 
“Can you remove the clothes yourself, or would you like my assistance?” The child hesitantly nodded, before pulling off their cold muddy shirt. “You can just drop it on the floor, I’ll clean it later,” he proved at the lost expression they made immediately after. He helped balance the frail kid so they wouldn’t stand on their injured leg while taking off their pants and then helped them to the stool he had set up in the bathtub.
“I’ll wait outside the door, you can yell if you need anything,” he paused for a moment after the words left his mouth — realizing he hadn’t actually heard them speak a word, “or throw something at the door”
The kid obediently nodded again, and Alfred left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
He sat on the bed and tried to make a to-do list for tomorrow, or consider alterations to the dinner he served tonight, or think about the book Jason recommended to him, to contemplate anything—anything but the cuts and bruises that littered the skin of the malnourished child on the other side of that door. To focus on something other than how badly he wanted to wrap that poor, frail, scarred kid in a soft, warm blanket and hold them in his arms and never let go. 
A thunk sounded from the bathroom as something collided with the bathroom door. Alfred took that as his que to carefully announce his presence, and enter.
“What can I help you with?” He asked, picking up the hairbrush that had been launched at the door. 
“Can you please help with my back? I can’t get it,” came a quiet, tired voice. It was soft, and almost defeated sounding. Alfred made a mental note to make some soup, so they could eat something warm after they rest.
Alfred grabbed a fresh washcloth from the counter, wet it lightly, and pumped a healthy amount of liquid soap onto it before looking to his next task. 
He tried to make his sharp inhale as quiet as possible. He hadn’t noticed before, trying to rush out of the bathroom to give the newcomer some privacy, but their back was littered with scars. Some small, some large. Some seemed neat and medical, thin lines left by careful stitches. Others were thick and jagged, remnants of an injury that never got properly treated. ‘Never again’ echoed like a mantra through his mind ‘I’ll make sure that never happens again’
He lifted the soft washcloth to their back and softly scrubbed off the mud and grime that clung to it. He carefully rubbed up the back of their neck and down their shoulders, making sure to grab every speck of dirt they couldn’t. He tried not to pay too much attention to how dark the water ran. 
With the shower finished and the water off, he wrapped the now clean child in the softest towel he could find and carefully carried them back to the counter, horrified by how easy it was. He helped dry their hair as they toweled off their body, and then dressed them in what clothes he could grab on such short notice (a freshly washed hoodie from Jason and a pair of shorts from when Bruce was much younger and smaller). Then he banged the cut on the child’s face, put a brace on their ankle, and some cream on their dry hands. 
He helped the kid waddle out of the bathroom and into the bed, tucking them in securely, and returned to the bathroom to clean up. 
When he left not even ten minutes later, he found the child curled up on themselves like a ball, nose tucked into the neck of the hoodie, gripping onto the bed like letting go might kill them. He watched for a moment, continuing the seconds between each rise and fall of their chest, making sure everything was ok. They'd need food, and a more thorough medical exam later, but for now they needed sleep.
“I hope your dreams are kinder to you than life has been.” he whispered before exiting the room.
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Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚
Notes:
Sorry for disappearing for… *checks notes* a month 😅, I rewrote this chapter 5 times. hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner
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the-moon-files · 3 months ago
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Not sure if anyone has asked this before I think it’d be funny for the Links to get flustered if reader asked them to touch their ears (out of curiosity) (I’m totally not curious myself)
Like are they sensitive? Just some thoughts to ponder...
Again, just going thru old asks, so if i don't apologize in the ask, I promise its a given 😭
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Moon: presumed male reader, but no he/him, only "you" used, so gender neutral really ig ("you")
Orbit: SFW, Headcanons-ish, SHORT
Stars: vaguely the classic chain of links
Comets & Meteors: CWs: mildly suggestive, mild discussion about ear piercings/cartilage mention, & TWs: ear piercing disussion (vague, no talk of needles).
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
I actually sorta touched on this in an old ask, I’ll leave the link here in case u wanna see it, (when i find it…)
so ig I’ll expand on some short headcanons here!
so i mentioned last time i talked abt this being like a cultural hylian thing to only touch the ears of someone you love dearly, so like obviously parent/child, maybe older/younger siblings, etc. but i like to think generally,
esp as hylians grow up and become adults, their ears are like a thing only lovers/spouses touch/take care of
including piercings a lot of the time, so like a parent or sibling or lover will learn to properly pierce ears (tho i imagine they only really pierce non-cartilage piercings commonly)
so on the subject of piercings, i definitely think they see any multiple piercings/cartilage piercings on your ears as badass/def a show of good pain tolerance regardless of what you acc can withstand lol
(bro and if you have non-ear piercings?? Wind/Wild is Fascinated, and Leg/Hyrule/Sky/Wars jaws def dropped, even Time’s eye widened)
ok switching lanes back to the intimacy aspect
ok so we’re continuing off that situation in teh last post where you touch Four’s ears and are told what that means, and then half jokingly respond that they are very dear to your heart
(but obv if they’re uncomfortable you’ll def not do it)
bro the effect this has on them is actually irreversible lol
Wind was def the first to outright ask you to like check his ears after swimming or if they get nicked or even to ask you to pierce them once!
(if ur squeamish u said “no Wind, ask ur grandma” lol - but if ur not, like me when i was drunk once, u go for it after making super sure they’re symmetrical and sterile and whatnot, theyre just his firsts, as in the earlobe basic, and lend him a pair of your own earrings to keep in the meantime until healed, which is faster than humans. he is so happy he looks more like a pirate lol)
and the others def followed suit after Wind gave them the courage ironically (both being the youngest and also they literally all fought evil lol)
Wild politely asked if you could make him/help make him some earmuffs, Hyrule shyly asked if you would change his earrings, Four nearly went as red a tomato giving you a pair of earrings before suddenly but slowly all of them (except Wind?) gave you earrings some way or another (made or bought)
When one of the waitresses at an inn you guys stayed at giggled at seeing Sky give you a pair of carved pretty wooden feather earrings, before quickly running off, then congratulated you,
u asked what for, only to have her giddly explain it was a courting gift of course!!
nahhhh, all the Links gave you a pair of earrings, they were just being sweet and welcoming you into their culture probably!
or showing that you were dear to them to, since it was an “ear culture” thing!!
…you see the waitress sigh pitifully at the blonde men at your table later that night.
thanks for the ask!!
peace out,
🌙📁
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marvelmaniac715 · 18 days ago
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A few snippets of what probably would’ve happened if the Doctor and Belinda broke the fourth wall into my living room instead of the three artificial fans on the show:
Me: *hyperventilating at the sudden appearance of fictional characters*
The Doctor: Miss, are you okay?
Me: Don’t worry, I’m- *more hyperventilating*
The Doctor: Is there anything I can do to-
Me: LUNGBARROW! You’re from house Lungbarrow and you had a robot dog called K9 and a granddaughter called Susan who you abandoned with only one shoe, and you’re a Time Lord except you’re not because Chibnall gave you a convoluted backstory. And you’re the Doctor, except you’re not real but right now you are and your new companion who will presumably die in an awful way - sorry for the spoiler Belinda - is here too and I’M ON TV and I have so many questions because I can’t afford the Big Finish audiobooks and I can’t find the novels or comics so I want to know everything.
The Doctor: …Can I sit down? I think I have more questions than you do.
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Me: So you’re from this show called Doctor Who…
The Doctor: Doctor WHAT?
Me: No, please, that’s a very old joke.
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The Doctor: …What do you MEAN I married my daughter?
Me: Well, technically, the daughter of one Doctor married a Doctor who she met in an episode where she was playing the Doctor’s daughter, and then she went on to actually have the Doctor’s daughters. It’s simple really.
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Me (holding up a picture of every single Master incarnation): Tell me the truth, now.
The Doctor: I’m not sure what you…
Me: Don’t fuck with me Doctor, answer the question. Smash. Or. Pass?
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The Doctor: Do you have any advice for me and Belinda on how to defeat Lux?
Me: Well it’s easy enough, he’s clearly a one episode villain and you can already hear the non-diegetic music for some reason which I’m sure will be expanded upon later, so I’d just wait for some inspiring music to play and you should know what to do. If all else fails just do something clever and high-tech, and run around a lot.
Belinda: Will the running help?
Me: You’re new - love you as a companion by the way - but trust me, you’ll learn that the running absolutely helps.
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Me: So like, if I give you my number, could your TARDIS lock onto my coordinates when you’re back in the tv show world and come get me?
The Doctor: I mean, that’s not really my top concern right now because fifteen people have gone missing and countless lives could be in danger-
Me: I know, they always are, but could you come back for me?
The Doctor: You seem nice but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.
Me: …Alright, I’ll invoke the name. The name that always spurs you on and gets your brain going.
The Doctor: What name?
Me: Doctor, do what you couldn’t do for… Rose Tyler.
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The Doctor: What’s your favourite episode?
Me: You know, I could tell you, but I feel like I’d bring up loads of trauma that you’re still trying to work through because my favourites are the ones where you go through a lot of stuff.
The Doctor: Is there an episode you like where I don’t end up devastated?
Me: A few, but they involve people that you lost in tragic ways and I don’t want to upset you by mentioning any names, like Bill Potts for instance.
Belinda: Okay, just how many girls have died with the Doctor?
Me: A few, but they’re mostly alright, they always cheat eternal death or painful deaths because kids watch Doctor Who too and it would devastate children to see their favourite character be brutally murdered… thinking about it, adults like me don’t take it well either, I’m still upset about Clara Oswald.
The Doctor: So am I.
———————————————————————
Me: Whilst it’s an honour to meet you and I’m so excited to get the chance to chat to you both, out of all of the Doctor Who fandoms - Whovians to be more specific - I don’t think I’m the most deserving person to receive such an amazing visit.
The Doctor: What do you mean?
Me: Look, all I’m saying is that if you somehow end up back in my universe, remember the name Peter Capaldi, pop up in his living room in the TARDIS. I think he’d actually lose his mind, but he probably would be impossible to get out of the TARDIS because he played you once and I think he’s just lying in wait for his chance to get back on set, the man’s watched every single episode and probably knows more about you than you know about yourself.
The Doctor: Should I be scared that he knows so much about me?
Me: Probably, yes.
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Me: There’s one thing I’ve always wondered, Doctor. It’s common knowledge that your nickname was Theta Sigma, but if you don’t mind me asking, and because it literally won’t leave this room to anyone important, what’s your actual birth name?
The Doctor: I’m so glad you asked! Nobody ever really asks for my actual name, of course Doctor is my name now since people have called me that for years, but my parents called me-
*The laws of Doctor Who immediately portal the Doctor and Belinda back to their own universe*
Me: Somehow I knew something like that would happen.
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chxrrysangel · 10 months ago
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Conflict of Interest
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Pairing | Plug!Choso x fem!reader
Words | schmedium
Summary | Choso never quite does his intended job when you meet. Special treatment is what they call it, not that he’d outright admit to it. One day, you request his services outside of your normal routine. And things get, well, complicated.
Tags | 🍃, hotboxing, car sex, dub con (both parties are under the influence), overstimulation, kinda dom! Choso, no protection, praise kink, no use of y/n, overstimulation, creampie
Notes | I’ve had this in my drafts for so fucking long that I was getting sick and tired of going back to it instead of just posting. Overthinking is an understatement. (I’ll probably end up editing it again later)
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You called up Choso a week early, stressed out of your fucking mind. It seemed like any problem the universe could throw at you, it did. You watched with anxious fingers tapping against the steering wheel as his deep blue car rolled into the empty parking lot. An abandoned mall is easily the best place for your exchanges, you both liked it that way.
He had his hair down today, catching you off guard for a moment. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but the stark contrast to his usual hairstyle was always surprising.
“Miss me?”, he asked with a smile as he closed the distance. You scoff and chuckle.
“I miss what’s in your bag. You’re not that special Kamo.”
“Oh but I am. We both know it.” He didn’t mention the break in routine, knowing it was probably something personal. You didn’t share much with one another, choosing the “basically strangers” dynamic to be a smarter option. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t break the agreement every once in a while. Even as he stands before the hood of your Jeep Grand Cherokee, your eyes can’t help but glance down at his playful smile when he talks or the movement of his fingers while he rolls. Your breath caught in your throat as he brought the paper to his lips, tongue flattening against its edge. Brown eyes glinted with mischief as they made contact with yours, a hum of satisfaction leaving his lips at catching you in the act. God if the earth could just open up and swallow me, that’d be great.
“Wanna smoke with me today?” You snapped out of your daze of distractions at the question, disbelief washing over your features.
“Really?” The large man shrugged, in a why not kind of way. How could you say no?
~~
Choso could taste the berry in your gloss as his lips wrapped around the blunt, inhaling the strain and feeling his chest grow warmer. It hadn’t been long, but the windows of Choso’s car had already begun to fog, despite the cracked windows.
That’s how you two spent the next hour, sharing two blunts and chatting together as your high began to wash over.
“Fuck, that’s strong.”
“Isn’t it?,” you softly whisper, head lolling towards him.
The two of you talk about anything and everything, minds expanding to limits you hadn’t even realized existed. Somehow the conversation drifted to the more personal aspects of your lives, such as your romantic lives.
“You’ve got a boyfriend?,” Choso whispered across the dash. You shook your head, waiting for his next question.
“Girlfriend?”
“If I didn’t know any better Kamo, I’d think you wanna date me.”
“God you fucking wish. Just curious.” Sometimes, you did wish. Not that he could ever know that.
“What about you, smartass. Dating anyone?”
“Nah, don’t have time for that.”
The car developed into a comfortable silence, neither of you feeling eagering to speak. It was like this with Choso, always has been. He understood the need for shutting up sometimes, no unnecessary pressure to converse.
“I think I need a haircut.” His random outburst prompted a barking laugh, caught off guard by the irrelevancy.
“I’m serious. It’s getting too long.” You looked over at him,pouting. You liked his hair, in fact you loved it. When he hung his head, the layers encased his face like a halo. It was the perfect haircut, not that you could really say so. Any allusion to your thoughts could ruin everything. So you settle for something simple.
“I like your hair.”
“Yeah?, he questions with a head tilt. You murmured a hum of agreement, leaning over the console to put a hand towards his face.
“I think your bangs could use a little trim though,” you remarked with a ruffle of his hair. You began to pull away a few seconds too late, eyes settling on his features and feeling yourself get too caught up. Choso’s eyes caught yours, grabbing your wrist to keep you close.
“Willing to cut it for me?” His eyes flickered across your features, analyzing them with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. It was unnerving.
You nodded, swallowing a large gulp of nerves.
You sat outstretched over the console, not making any attempt to sit back properly on your side. He broke the silence before you could consider a regrettable choice, going on about munchies and making you laugh. That comment is what led to your current argument on the best type of cake as you unwrapped a cupcake in your hands.
“It’s very easily vanilla,” he argued, “it’s the most versatile option.” You scoff mid-bite.
“Didn’t know you were so boring, Kamo.” He looked offended at your comment, putting a hand on his chest like it hurt.
“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite then?”
“Red velvet. Hence why all of them are on my side of the tray.”
“You think you’re so special, picking red velvet over all the other options,” he teased.
“I know I’m special,” you mocked. Something shifted in the air when you said that, Choso growing quiet with no comeback prepared. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
“You uh…you got something,” he whispered distractedly while leaning in. His thumb wiped at the corner of your mouth, dark eyes staring into yours. You watched as time slowed, his thumb reaching up to his lips and sucking.
“Frosting.” The two of you just stared at one another, high out of your minds and scared to breathe. Instinctively, you glance at his blush lips, not even remotely afraid that he would notice. His tongue darted out between the folds, covering the surface in spit and you nearly moaned.
“Fuck me,” you whispered to yourself, almost in pain.
He leans farther over the center console, putting a hand on your neck. Nothing was said as you stared into his eyes, bouncing back and forth between his irises as he wrestled with his thoughts. You leaned in , the gap between your lips just barely a sliver. You could kiss him easily, that much was obvious. But fear made you hesitate, breath fanning across his cheeks in anticipation of the next move.
“Choso,” you whispered in a barely audible tone.
“Don't talk,” he said before making the brave choice.
His lips capture yours, hesitant but curious. It takes a moment to find rhythm but soon you’re moaning softly into his mouth and gripping onto his arm for dear life. Choso was a good kisser, the soft muscle of his tongue bullying its way past your lips as he explored your mouth. He broke the kiss, staring at you with need. His lips were glossy with spit, pupils massive with lust.
“Back seat. Now.” You didn’t need to be told twice.
You watched as he impatiently pushed the seats forward, as far as the mechanism would allow.. He climbed into the backseat, a boyish smile adorning his features that you’ve adored from your first meeting.
“Choso, need you.”
He manhandles your body, grabbing your thighs to guide you into his lap.
Choso pushed your hips down on his crotch, your clit grinding against his rough zipper with earnestness. His plush lips peppered kisses down your neck and collarbone, smiling into your skin at the thought of seeing all this tomorrow. The two of you had crossed the line of friendship and he was quite intent on never going back now he’s gotten a taste. You whimpered, as though on the verge of tears, desperate for relief from the throbbing of your cunt.
“Oh, that’s cute.”
“Shut up. Not funny,” you retorted.
“Whatever you say sweetheart.” He thrust upwards, the outline of his erection rubbing so perfectly against your clit. A pathetically desperate whimper slips out, and he chuckles.
“I know baby, I know.” Choso continues to mark you, his featherlight touch on your skin sending tingles up your spine.
~~~
Had he not pushed his seat back, your ass would be pressing uncomfortably into the leather right now. Choso’s hands engulfed your hips, guiding you on his cock with every thrust. Your skin buzzed with the effects of indica, hot with desire as he fucked your brains out.
“Shit, Cho. So fuckin—ngh—good.” You whined into his neck, trying to muffle your sounds.
A chuckle reverberated through his body, dark with knowing.
“Don’t hide those pretty moans from me, baby. Wanna hear you.”
You leaned back, coming face to face with Choso. He was so pretty like this, a light sheen of sweat making his bangs stick to his skin in a pleasured bliss. Your pussy squeezed around his shaft, making him whine with need.
“Fuck that’s good,” he cried. Watching you bounce was like nothing he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing.
Just then, an idea formed in his mind. Choso angled his hips more upward, hitting your g-spot and pulling a pleasured sob from your lips. He watched with satisfaction as your eyes crossed for a moment, going dumb before his eyes. The glossed out look said everything, too lost in the pleasure to be remotely coherent.
“Feel good, pretty girl?” You could barely whimper out an affirmation, feeling your impending orgasm. You mewled incoherently, a jumble of curses and praise. With a shaking hand, you rubbed your clit as your stomach began to tighten in need for release.
“Right there baby. Fuck don’t stop don’t stop.”
Choso pushed off his own orgasm, wanting to watch you make a mess on his dick first. He grinned, taking in your fucked out state with great pleasure. The little you had shared with each other revealed that your sexual experience with men had been rather disappointing. Your last ex had no clue how to please you, too concerned with his own orgasm to ever worry about yours. He was selfish in that way, as well as many others.
He grabbed your hair, pulling you down in a sloppy kiss. If it wasn’t for how well he fucked, this kiss alone was enough to make your head spin. Your body felt miles away, the combination of the thc and the best fuck of your life making your skin tingle.
Your limbs began to tense, signals of how close you were. Your vision was blurry, teeth searing into your bottom lip with focus.
Choso felt your walls grow tighter, filling his chest with pride. He maintained his pace, pushing harder with each thrust. Your nails dug deep into the hard skin of his shoulders, imprinting moon-shaped marks.
“Close aren’t you?”
“So fucking close baby”. You stumbled over your response, struggling to say every syllable.
With a few more thrusts, your toes curled as you came. The squelching sounds in the car increased tenfold, a sound Choso was eager to revel in. He fucked you through your orgasm, thrusting getting sloppier by the second. His balls tightened, body buzzing as he fucked his cum into you. Before you could say anything, he didn’t stop. His mouth formed into an O, tip extremely sensitive.
“I think I can get one more out of you.”
A statement that felt more like a demand.
You began to shake your head, feeling the creeping discomfort of overstimulation begin to course through your shaking body.
He whispered sweet praises as you squirmed. Your body wasn’t sure of whether to lean into his touch or pull away, confused but pulsing with need. Your cunt choked his shaft, tense as you pushed through the masochistic pain. But soon enough that pain turned into pleasure, attempting to meet his thrusts to chase your orgasm.
He grinned with knowing, cheeky like a cat who got the cream.
“Shut up,” you uttered between gasps. He winked, satisfied with his clear victory. Even during the most intimate moments, he couldn’t help but be his usual annoying self
“Gonna cum Cho.” You whispered into his neck.
“Fuck. Can feel it. Doing so well for me, baby.”
His praise made you squeeze harder around him. Now that he’s had a taste, he’s unsure of how he’ll be able to let you go. Every touch, every look, every smile led up to this moment.
Every muscle in your body tenses as you cum, ears ringing as Choso praises you. His thumb rubs your clit in firm circles, the pleasure making your walls spasm around his sensitive cock.
“That’s it baby, doing so fucking good.” Choso slurred his words, head sensitive as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. The base of his spine tingled, pushing him back towards the edge again. He blabbered incoherently as you came down, mumbling about how good your pussy is.
His hips stilled as he shot white ropes into you, filling your cunt with his warm seed. Your tired quick breaths as you gasped for air quickly faded into light laughter as you watched each other come down. Choso smiled lazily, dazed and completely out of it. With a delicate hand, he pushed some of your hair out of your face before pulling you in for another kiss. This one was much softer, gentle and unrushed. Romantic even.
“We just made things really complicated, didn’t we?,” you question against his lips. He didn’t answer really, murmuring in disagreement as he deepened the kiss.
“Choso! I’m serious”.
“So am I.”
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emmasmoke8 · 2 months ago
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Let me keep talking about Sonic the Hedgehog roleswaps for a few more days, and then I’ll quit, I promise.
Today, we’re talking about an Eggman and Sonic swap. I don’t have a name for it yet. I might think of something later. As before, ask questions if you have them because I’ll take any excuse to yap
In this AU, Ivo Robotnik was abandoned in the woods. He built rudimentary robots to help him survive. In his later years, he made Belle (the Tails of this AU) Together, they found a place in Mobian society as Mr. Tinker and his daughter, Belle. They built tools and robots to help people.
Some of the people they helped includes Sage, the Knuckles of this AU. She was an AI program built by the Ancients to protect the Starfall Islands and all the tech on it. They also helped Metal Sonic, but I don’t really have a backstory for him yet. I mean, both he and Amy have mysterious/boring pasts
As for Sonic in this AU, he’s a hedgehog with incredible speed, supernatural even by Mobian standards. He also strongly believes that you shouldn’t help others for free. He philosophically stands opposed to Mr. Tinker because the inventor and his machines just help people with no strings attached. He destroys the machines for this reason
Early in his life, Sonic accidentally helped Tails unintentionally. When Tails wanted to repay the favor, Sonic let him. He didn’t think Tails would stick around so long. On the outside, they look like they have a cordial relationship, but Sonic will get violent if he thinks Tails has helped others or even Sonic himself (Sonic does not like it when people help him)
Knuckles and Amy are some of Sonic’s other associates. They exchange favors, but don’t ever think they’re friends or aren’t willing to backstab each other
I haven’t really thought about the others, BUT it could be that instead of Mr. Tinker’s cousin, Maria is his (insert however many greats) granddaughter, and she travels back in time to help deal with apocalyptic threats.
If I did that, Shadow would probably be the one that comes from the Doom Dimension where he’s the crown prince of the Doom Empire (and Eclipse could be like his Marine)
Now that leaves who replaces Team Dark. It could be Blaze and Marine, but I think that’d be better for a different roleswap line-up. We need someone who connects with Eggman. I guess we could have Nega. We could have Starline, and that one might be the most interesting. We could— and hear me out—have Stone. Just saying!
Anyway! That’s my ideas for this particular roleswap. I might expand on it more. I might talk about another one. Who knows? Let me have this
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levisolace · 7 months ago
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[6] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)
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Chapter 6: Busy Nights
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WC: 6664 Chapter Warnings: just angst again Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: Levi POV in this chapter !! ^^ Oh, and unfortunately, there will probably no update until after the 17th of October. I have uni exams and my study schedule is clashing with work so I probably won't time have time to write until then. See you until then! (We're gonna get more angsty and a little steamy(?) when I come back, I promise.) check out the expandable hearts playlist here!
story masterlist | prev chapter > next chapter
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Over the next few days, you found yourself checking your phone more than usual, a small flicker of anticipation stirring each time you saw a new message. On Wednesday afternoon, Kuchel finally texted you the details of the dinner, and to your surprise, it wasn’t at the restaurant.
Would dinner at my place this Thursday be good? 7PM. Just us. Don’t bring anything—just yourself. See you then. —Kuchel
You stared at the message for a moment, blinking. Kuchel’s home? You hadn’t expected something so personal, but it made sense. After all, this wasn’t just any casual dinner. It was a reunion, an intimate moment to reconnect outside the hustle and noise of her now-bustling restaurant.
A mix of emotions bubbled up as you responded with a quick response.
Sounds perfect. I’ll be there.
As the dinner date drew closer, you found yourself thinking about Kuchel more than you expected. Memories from the time you worked at her small, then unassuming restaurant resurfaced—late nights closing up, chats over coffee while you helped her organize orders, Levi’s rare moments of humor in between his sharp instructions. It all seemed so distant now, like a chapter of your life that belonged to someone else.
A couple of minutes after confirming the dinner with Kuchel, another message buzzed on your phone, pulling you from the stack of legal documents you’d been reviewing. You glanced at the screen and saw Hange’s name pop up and you remember she has been pestering you about her bachelorette party. She kept sending the same message everyday for the past week.
Heyyy! Guess what? You’re invited to my bachelorette party! 🎉🎉 It’s going to be WILD. Be there, or I’ll hunt you down!! This Saturday at 8 PM. The details are attached here. Can’t wait to see you!!
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you read the message. Hange hadn’t changed one bit. She always had this vibrant energy that could light up any room, and apparently, she was bringing that energy to her bachelorette party. The thought of attending the event tugged at something inside you—an old camaraderie, a time when things were simpler, messier, but undeniably fun.
The idea of being surrounded by familiar faces again—of slipping back into that old rhythm—both excited and unsettled you. But Hange’s invitation was impossible to refuse. She had a way of pulling people into her orbit, and you knew this wouldn’t be any ordinary night. Besides, Levi won’t be there anyway.
As the day unfolded, the prospect of Kuchel’s dinner and Hange’s bachelorette party loomed closer, each event pulling you back into the life you once had here. It felt as though the city, with all its memories and relationships, was welcoming you back in layers—one familiar face at a time. And you don’t even know if you deserved it. 
When the evening finally arrived, you made your way to Kuchel’s home, which was tucked into a quiet neighborhood just a few blocks away from the restaurant. The walk there felt almost surreal, the streets of Stohess now familiar yet filled with memories. When you arrived, you found the house just as warm and inviting as the woman who owned it.
Kuchel’s home was modest, but there was a charm to it—plants lining the windowsills, warm lights glowing from inside, and the faint scent of cooking wafting out the front door. You took a deep breath and knocked.
The door swung open almost immediately, and there she was, smiling as though no time had passed at all.
“You made it,” Kuchel said, her voice bright as she stepped aside to let you in. “Come on in, the food’s almost ready.”
You stepped inside, taking in the cozy, lived-in feel of the space. Photos lined the walls, some of Levi as a boy, and others of what seemed to be old family gatherings. The warmth of the place wrapped around you, instantly putting you at ease.
“I haven’t been here in so long,” you said softly, looking around.
Kuchel smiled as she led you into the kitchen, where a simple but delicious-smelling meal was simmering on the stove. “I figured it’d be nice to have dinner somewhere quiet. We can talk without the restaurant noise, and besides, I’ve been meaning to catch up with you for a long time.”
As you took a seat at her kitchen table, Kuchel poured you a glass of wine, her movements graceful and familiar. “It’s been too long. You’ve done so much since you left, and I want to hear everything.”
You smiled, settling into the moment. “There’s a lot to catch up on,” you admitted. “But I want to hear about you, too. Kuchel’s has grown so much—I couldn’t believe it when I saw how busy it was the other night.”
Kuchel laughed softly as she joined you at the table. “Levi deserves most of the credit for that. He’s been the driving force behind the expansion. I never imagined we’d get this far, honestly. But enough about work—for tonight, let’s treat each other like the old times.” 
You took a sip of your wine, feeling the warmth of the room and the comfort of Kuchel’s presence sink in. “It’s been a whirlwind,” you began, knowing that this evening would be one of reconnection, not just with Kuchel, but with the parts of yourself that you’d left behind when you moved away. You began to tell her what happened like how you tell it to everyone, how you left the city, moved your grandma, went to law school, how your grandma died, and how you began to work in Trost. 
And as the night unfolded, with laughter and stories shared over a lovingly prepared meal, you realized how much you had missed this—missed her, and the sense of home that Kuchel had always provided.
As the dinner with Kuchel neared its end, the conversation had drifted from light-hearted reminiscing to more personal territory. You both shared a bottle of wine, laughter mixing with memories, but there was a point where the ease of the evening gave way to something deeper. Kuchel, always observant, seemed to notice the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes, the way you hesitated before answering certain questions.
She set her glass down, her expression softening as the last bit of warmth from the meal filled the quiet space between you. “I’m really glad you’re back,” she said, her voice gentle but with an edge of seriousness. “You were with someone else when I first saw you but it’s been plaguing my mind so I came to ask you to meet me. I’m sorry, dear… I have to ask, how are you really doing?”
You looked down at your plate for a moment, the weight of the question settling in. Kuchel had always been able to read you, even when you didn’t want to be read. She wasn’t one for surface-level small talk—not with you.
“I’m fine,” you started, instinctively offering the answer you’d given everyone else. But Kuchel’s eyes didn’t waver, and the sincerity of her gaze made you pause. She wasn’t letting you get away with that.
She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table, her voice a little softer now. “I know it’s been a long time, and I don’t expect you to spill everything right now… but I can see it. You’ve been through something. So, how have you really been?”
The words hung in the air, and for the first time all night, you felt exposed. You hadn’t planned on opening up—not tonight, maybe not ever—but something about Kuchel’s quiet persistence, her maternal presence, made you feel safe enough to let the guard down.
“You know—and don’t tell Levi I told you this but… when the breakup happened, Levi didn’t take it well. And I never got to talk to you about it. But if Levi experienced that… it was probably bad for you too, wasn’t it?” She reached for your hand across the table, placing a comforting hand on yours, and caressing it with care and love of a mother. 
It took all of you to control your emotions right there and then. For Kuchel to say this, the curiosity of what Levi endured during those times that you broke things off and what happened to everyone after you left only became stronger, accompanied with greater guilt that you have always been carrying. You look away and take a deep breath, setting your own glass aside. “I… it was hard for me too, I admit.”
Kuchel nodded, not interrupting, just listening in that patient way of hers. It encouraged you to continue.
“When I left, it was all I could think of doing. But it feels like I just ran. Away from here, from everything. And now that I’m back, it’s like… all of it is catching up to me, and I don’t know what to do with it.”
You hadn’t meant to be so honest, but once the words started spilling out, it was hard to stop. Kuchel listened intently, her eyes filled with understanding, but she didn’t say anything right away.
“I knew there was more under the surface,” she said softly. “You’ve always been strong, but sometimes it’s okay to stop carrying it all alone. I can see it’s hard to tell what really happened and I—we can wait. There’s still people that love you here. You can find your way back to them.”
Her words hit deeper than you expected, and for the first time in a while, you felt a small sense of relief—a release of the tension you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It was comforting, having someone like Kuchel, who knew you before the layers of adulthood and responsibility piled on.
“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”
Kuchel smiled warmly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. But don’t keep it bottled up either. You’ve got people here who care, people who are still part of your life—whether it’s me, or Hange, or whoever else. Don’t be a stranger.”
You nodded, feeling the sincerity in her words settle over you like a warm blanket. There was something about the way she said it that made you believe it.
The evening ended on a note of quiet understanding, Kuchel walking you to the door with a promise to see each other again soon. As you stepped out into the night, the weight on your shoulders felt just a little lighter, knowing that at least here, in this corner of your past, you had someone who understood—someone who saw through the cracks and cared enough to reach out.
After saying your goodbyes to Kuchel and leaving her cozy home, the cool night air greeted you as you stepped out of the cab in front of your apartment. The streets were quiet, only the occasional flicker of distant headlights passing by, the buzz from your dinner still lingering in your mind. Kuchel's words played over and over in your head—her gentle insistence that you didn’t have to carry everything alone. You felt lighter, as if some invisible weight had been lifted, but also heavy with the realization that coming back to the city meant dealing with more than just the people from your past. It meant facing the reality that this is the present–your current situation, something you can no longer run away from. 
As you rounded the corner of your street, something caught your eye—a familiar silhouette, leaning casually against the building. At first, you thought you were imagining it, the streetlights casting long shadows that distorted the figure. But as you approached, the figure became clearer, the unmistakable stance of someone you hadn't expected to see, but somehow weren’t surprised by.
Levi.
He stood there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was a tension in his posture that told you this wasn’t just a casual visit. His dark eyes flicked up as you approached, locking onto yours with the same intensity you remembered. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words.
“What are you doing here?” you finally asked, your voice quieter than you intended, but firm enough to mask the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside you.
Levi pushed off from the wall, standing straighter as he took a few slow steps toward you. 
"How was the dinner?" he asked, the words falling out more out of habit than genuine curiosity. He didn't need to know about the dinner, not really. He just needed to say something.
“You knew?” You blinked, surprised that he even knew about it. Then you remembered, of course—Levi was always aware of things, especially when it came to Kuchel. He probably knew you'd be seeing her tonight even if she didn’t tell him. 
"It was nice," you said, carefully, as if you were trying not to give too much away. "Kuchel’s doing well."
Levi nodded, his gaze shifting for a second, as though considering whether to say something more. But instead, he settled on something simple. "Good."
Another silence stretched between you, longer this time. It was clear he wasn’t going to explain why he’d really come. Maybe you didn’t need to ask—maybe it didn’t matter. But the tension between you felt thick, almost suffocating. The years apart hadn’t erased anything. You can still feel the immeasurable amount of love he has for his mother. In honesty, you’d expected him to be angry that you reconnected with Kuchel. But of course, this was Levi. If it’s mother’s happiness or want, he would never question or fault her for it. 
Levi nodded, staring down at the ground for a beat, shoving his hands back into his jacket pockets. There was no reason for him to stay, but he lingered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of the city around you both.
"You didn’t have to come all the way out here," you said, breaking the silence, your voice soft but carrying a note of hesitation. You didn’t ask him outright why he was there, but it was implied.
Levi shrugged, his eyes meeting yours briefly before drifting off again. "Maybe I did."
You swallowed, not sure how to respond to that. For all of Levi’s usual bluntness, there was always something deeper that he never quite let show. Something that made it impossible to fully walk away from him, even when you thought you had. 
“Get some rest,” Levi said after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost softer. “You look awful.”
He gave you a curt nod and turned to walk away, leaving you standing there, feeling like something had just shifted between you. Something unspoken, unresolved, and maybe destined to remain that way.  
The night of Hange’s bachelorette party arrived with the kind of energy that made the air feel electric. You stood outside the venue, a trendy rooftop bar in the heart of the city, the neon lights of Stohess Street reflected in the glass walls behind you. The place had been transformed—streamers, lights, and enough champagne to fill a small pool. You took a deep breath before stepping inside, knowing that wherever Hange was, chaos was sure to follow.
As you entered, you were immediately hit by a wave of laughter, music, and the unmistakable sound of Hange’s voice ringing out over the crowd. The space was filled with friends, both familiar faces and new ones, all gathered to celebrate. You spotted her almost immediately—Hange was at the center of the room, a crown of flowers on her head and a glass of champagne in hand, already in full party mode.
“There she is!” Hange’s voice rang out as she spotted you from across the room, her face lighting up as she waved you over. She was wearing a sash that read “Bride-to-Be” in glittering letters, and her energy was contagious. “I thought you’d never make it! Come here!”
You smiled, weaving through the crowd of partygoers to reach her. Before you could say a word, Hange pulled you into a tight hug, nearly spilling her champagne in the process.
“I told you it’d be wild!” she laughed, stepping back to take you in. “Look at you! You clean up well.”
“Thanks, Hange,” you said, unable to help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. “This is… a lot.”
“Only the best for my bachelorette!” she declared, spinning around to show off the venue. “We’ve got drinks, food, and games—oh, and don’t forget the karaoke later.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Karaoke?”
Hange grinned wickedly. “Oh yeah, it’s happening. And you will sing, my friend.”
Before you could protest, Nanaba appeared beside you, already holding a glass of champagne for you. “She’s not kidding about the karaoke. Start thinking of your song now,” she teased, handing you the glass. “Long time no see, girl.”
You took it, laughing softly. “Oh my god, Nanaba,” you greet her with a hug. She hugs you back.
Everyone began to greet you. Out of all the attendees, you only knew Nanaba who thankfully treated you kindly like it hasn’t been years since you’ve last seen each other. Tonight, it will all be about Hange, that’s what she said. 
The party was in full swing, with drinks flowing and people chatting in every corner. You settled into the crowd, reminiscing about college days with Nanaba and meeting new girls, but the chaotic energy of the evening was starting to grow on you. Every time you glanced at Hange, she was in the middle of some new adventure—whether it was a game, making an impromptu speech, or trying to rope someone into a dance-off.
As the night went on, you found yourself at the bar, taking a moment to breathe. That’s when Hange sidled up beside you, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So,” she started, leaning on the bar, “I heard you and Levi ran into each other recently.”
You froze for a second, surprised she’d brought it up. Of course, Hange would know. “Yeah… he returned something I forgot in his car,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Hange raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your casual tone. “Oh, just a handkerchief? Interesting.”
You gave her a look. “It was nothing. We barely talked.” While we were having dinner, that is, you thought. 
“Sure,” she said with a teasing grin. “Well, just so you know, I mixed that drink myself.”
You stared at her, caught off guard. “Of course you did.”
She laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What? It’s my party! I want everyone to have fun. Besides, it’ll be fun for everyone to let loose. Don’t worry, it’s not as dangerous as the ones I made from college. I’ve practiced a lot over the years.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Hange always had a way of stirring the pot, even when she didn’t mean to. Before you could respond, she was pulled away by a group of friends, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment.
The night wore on, and as promised, karaoke eventually took over the party. You found yourself dragged into a group rendition of some 90s throwback song, with Hange leading the charge and everyone laughing so hard they could barely keep up with the lyrics. It was chaotic, messy, and exactly what you’d expected from a night like this.
As you looked around at the familiar faces, the laughter, and the whirlwind energy of the party, you felt a strange sense of belonging—a feeling you hadn’t realized you’d missed until now. It was like stepping back into a part of yourself you’d left behind, and for the first time in a while, you felt like maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to be back. Or maybe that was the alcohol in your system. You feel like you’re about to crash out soon. 
The party didn’t start winding down until the early hours of the morning, when even Hange began to show signs of exhaustion. You were one of the last to leave, standing on the rooftop as the city stretched out beneath you, barely alive with the hum of nightlife. The reason you didn’t leave yet is because your alcohol tolerance betrayed you. You fear that if you go home alone, you’d pass out on the street and wake up god knows where.
Hange caught up to you once more as you stood, leaning on the tall railings. “Hey,” she said, her tone more serious now, though still light. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me, you know? Having you back here.”
You smiled, feeling the sincerity in her words. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“Good,” she said, giving you a lopsided grin before pulling you into one last hug. “Now get home and sleep. We’ve got more partying to do at the wedding.” 
“Actually, can you grab me a cab? I don’t think I can book a ride on my phone at my state.” Your words are slurring off with a soft laugh as you talk, trying to pull out your phone out of your pocket only to find it empty. “Oh, other pocket,” you murmured incoherently as you finally had your phone in your hand.
You look up to already see Hange grinning at you, her cheeks flushed with the excitement of the night. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Already taken care of.”
You furrowed your brow, confused. “What do you mean?”
Hange gave you a look that was somewhere between mischievous and knowing, her eyes twinkling with that signature glint she always got when she knew she was meddling in something. “I called someone to pick you up.” 
Your stomach dropped, and a sense of foreboding crept into your drunken haze. “Who?” you asked, dreading the answer. 
“For fuck’s sake, Hange.” 
For one good second, you sobered up, chills filling your entire body when you heard his voice. You look in his direction, already walking up to the two of you. He’s wearing a black jacket and jeans, his hair a little tousled by the windy air of the rooftop. 
“I thought you’d know better than drinking Hange’s mix,” he directly spoke to you now, arms crossed in disappointment. Him standing in front of you hit you like a splash of cold water. You blinked a few times, as if you don’t believe what you’re seeing in front of you. 
“Levi? You called Levi?” is what you would’ve said if you could even make some words out of your drunken mouth. You let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the situation settle in your already tipsy mind. The way Levi is seeing you right now—drunk, disoriented, and in this state—is too humiliating, but it was too late to argue. Hange had made her decision without consulting you, and there was no undoing it now, with him already standing in front of you.
Hange laughed, patting you on the back. “Welp, here’s your designated driver. Moblit’s on his way to fetch me so you two go on ahead.”
With that, Hange left the two of you alone by the railings. The two of you stood there in silence. The long-sleeved shirt you wore does nothing for the chilly night, you wrap your arms tightly around yourself as the cold night air sobered you up just enough to feel the awkwardness building. Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned on the railing, trying to steady yourself.
He approached you closer, his usual unreadable expression giving nothing away. “You good to go, or do I need to carry you to the car?” he asked, his voice dry but not unkind.
You blinked, trying to pull yourself together, but you could still feel the alcohol buzzing in your system. “I can walk,” you muttered, feeling heat rise in your cheeks despite the cool air.
Levi’s lips twitched ever so slightly at your response, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Sure you can.”
You huff, trying to walk away from him. You swayed slightly on your feet, your mind racing with a mixture of embarrassment and dread as you head to the elevator. Levi followed closely behind you. Whenever you feel like you’re about to lose your stance, you’d feel a slight graze of a hand on your back. He never touches you. But you’re awfully aware of his presence behind you. 
The two of you waited in front of the elevator in silence. You don’t look at Levi. You feel like your face is going to be redder than it already is if you look at his handsome face. And what was he wearing? Did he go somewhere? Why does he look like that? It’s so unfair. He’s so hot. The all black fit always hits you differently, the alcohol is not helping either. 
Just as the elevator doors open, something draped on your shoulders. Levi’s jacket. “Wear it. You look like you’re gonna freeze to death.” 
As the two of you go in, due to actually feeling like you’re going to freeze to death, you don’t complain and wear his jacket. The smell of his cologne fills your nose and you bury yourself in the warmth of it. 
"You look like you’ve had a rough night," he said, his voice flat but with a hint of dry amusement.
You huffed out a breath, leaning your elbows on the railing again. “It wasn’t supposed to end with you showing up.” You paused for a moment. “Thanks for coming… but you didn’t have to. I could’ve called a cab.”
Levi shrugged, glancing over at the view of the city in front of you. “You were drunk, and she called me. Simple as that.”
You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing with him. “Yeah, I guess.”
He glanced at you, taking in the way you leaned a little too heavily against the wall, the faint pink flush on your cheeks. As the two of you stood there, the awkward silence between you grew. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an underlying tension—one that neither of you wanted to acknowledge.
You made it to the lobby  and then outside of the building, the cool air of the outside world hitting you like a fresh wave of another cold. Levi led the way to his car parked just outside, and you hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and reluctance.
When you reached the car, Levi opened the passenger door for you, motioning for you to get in. You do as he says, slipping into the passenger seat.  The ride was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between you as he drove through the city streets, which had quieted down in the late hours. You stared out the window, watching the lights of the buildings blur as you passed by. 
Levi finally broke the silence, his voice soft but steady. “Hange said you were having fun tonight.”
You let out a small laugh, still feeling the god-awful drink swirling in your veins. “Yeah, I was… surprisingly”
He glanced at you briefly. “Parties weren't really your thing.”
“Neither are late-night rescues,” you replied, shooting him a half-smile.
Levi’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile you’d seen from him all night. “Could’ve fooled me.”
The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, the weight of the night settling over you as your eyelids grew heavy. The rhythmic hum of the car and the gentle motion of the drive lulled you into a deeper state of relaxation. The alcohol in your system had finally caught up with you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyes grew heavier with each passing minute. You leaned your head against the cool window, the blur of city lights fading as your consciousness began to slip.
You barely registered Levi glancing over at you from the driver's seat. His expression, ever unreadable, softened slightly as he noticed your slow, even breathing. He kept driving for a few more minutes, but when he pulled up in front of your apartment building and turned off the engine, you didn’t stir.
Levi sat there for a moment, staring at you, your body curled up in the passenger seat, completely oblivious to the world around you. The faint rise and fall of your chest was the only sound in the quiet of the car. He let out a small sigh, looking around the area of your building as he considered his options. There were still some people outside in the streets. The underground never slept, filled with drunktards and no-good doers. 
After a moment of hesitation, Levi made his decision. Getting you inside your apartment, trying to find your keys, and getting you up the steep and unpaved stairs—all of it seemed like too much for someone in your condition. 
Without another word, Levi drove off your apartment and to his own home where you’ll be more comfortable. After he parked his car, Levi got out of the car and came around to your side. He opened the passenger door quietly and leaned down, carefully sliding one arm beneath your legs and the other around your back. You stirred slightly as he lifted you, your head resting against his chest as he effortlessly carried you out of the car. The smell of alcohol fills his nose but it didn’t bother him one bit.  His movements were slow and deliberate, making sure not to wake you as he adjusted your weight in his arms. 
You murmured something incoherent, your head shifting slightly as you nestled closer against him. Levi froze for a second, his gaze flickering down to you, but when you didn’t wake, he continued walking toward his building.
Once inside, Levi carried you up the stairs to his apartment. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the street lamps outside. He shifted you gently in his arms to open the door, then stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click. He made his way through the familiar space, heading toward his bedroom.
Levi laid you down carefully on his bed, pulling back the covers as he positioned you comfortably on the mattress. You stirred again, this time more aware, your eyes fluttering open briefly as you tried to figure out where you were. Your vision was blurry, your mind still fogged with sleep and alcohol, but you recognized the familiar scent of Levi’s apartment. 
"Levi?" you mumbled, your voice hoarse with sleep.
He was already adjusting the blanket over you, making sure you were covered and comfortable. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said quietly, his voice unusually soft. “Go back to sleep.”
You blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation, but exhaustion pulled at you like a weight. Your body relaxed into the bed, the warmth of the blankets lulling you back to the edge of unconsciousness. “This isn’t… my place…” you muttered, but even as you said it, your eyes were closing again.
“I know,” Levi replied, stepping back slightly as he watched you. “You fell asleep in the car.”
You didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, you let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into the mattress. “Yeah…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as sleep finally overtook you.
As Levi carefully tucked the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable, he turned to leave the room. But just as he was about to pull away, he felt a gentle tug on his arm.
In your half-conscious state, your fingers had wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. He froze, staring down at you, his heartbeat quickening unexpectedly. Your eyes were still closed, your breathing slow and steady, but your grip was firm—gentle, yet desperate, as though some part of you, even in sleep, didn’t want him to leave.
“Stay… please…” you whispered, your voice barely audible but enough to make Levi’s breath catch.
He wasn’t sure if you were dreaming or fully aware of what you were saying, but the soft plea reached him. You shifted slightly, your hand sliding up his arm as you pulled him closer, nestling into the blankets. “hold me…” you murmured, the vulnerability in your voice tugging at something deep inside him.
Levi’s body went rigid, his mind torn between his instinct to distance himself and the raw emotion in your voice. He had never been good with moments like this—moments that demanded more than what he was used to offering. But the way you clung to him, even unconsciously, made it difficult to simply pull away. It reminded him of old, easier times. 
With a quiet sigh, Levi gave in. He gently sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb you too much. His movements were slow, uncertain, but deliberate. He stretched out beside you, keeping a small distance at first, though your hand never let go of him.
As you sensed his presence closer, you relaxed, instinctively shifting so that your head rested lightly against his chest. The tension in your body melted as you let out a soft, contented sigh, your hand still gripping his shirt as if afraid he might disappear.
Levi lay there, still and silent, staring up at the ceiling, his heart beating faster than usual. He didn’t know what to do with his free arm, but eventually, he let it settle around your shoulder, holding you with a gentleness that surprised even him. The scent of your hair and the warmth of your body against his was oddly calming, despite the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind.
The room was quiet, save for your slow, steady breathing. Levi glanced down at you, watching the peaceful expression on your face, the way your brow had unfurled and your lips parted slightly in sleep. You looked vulnerable, and yet completely at ease.
For a brief moment, Levi allowed himself to relax, too. He wasn’t sure what this meant—this sudden closeness but as you snuggled into him, your body warm against his, he let himself be present in the moment.
Just for tonight, he told himself. Just for now.
As the minutes passed, Levi found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. Your face was serene in sleep, the tension from the day and the alcohol completely dissolved. He hadn't seen you like this in a long time—peaceful, unguarded. There was something deeply comforting in watching you like this, something that stirred memories he had long buried. Only now was he able to stare at your face without fearing he’d crumble in front of you. The darkness under your eyes tells everyone that you’re tired but the years have painted a maturity in your face that didn’t take away your beauty. 
His eyes traced the familiar lines of your features—the way your lashes rested softly on your cheeks, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of your breathing, and Levi’s thoughts seemed to drift along with it. He wasn’t one to dwell on the past, but here, beside you, he couldn’t help but think of everything that had happened between you two—what you had been, what you could have been.
He wasn’t sure when it happened, but a deep, unspoken longing began to rise in his chest, a feeling he had been trying to ignore ever since the night he had shown up outside your apartment without a reason. The closeness of you, the way you had unconsciously reached for him, pulled at something deep inside him.
His gaze softened, lingering on your parted lips, the way your hair spilled across the pillow, framing your face. Slowly, as if drawn by some invisible force, he found himself leaning in closer. His heart began to pound louder, an unfamiliar rush of emotions building within him, making his movements feel almost inevitable.
He told himself to stop, to pull back before he crossed a line. But as his face hovered just inches above yours, he was overwhelmed by the quiet intimacy of the moment. The warmth of your breath brushed against his skin, and his pulse quickened. You were so close, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would feel like—to close that final distance, to press his lips against yours once again. 
He hesitated, his breath hitching as his eyes traced your sleeping face. You looked so peaceful, so trusting, curled up against him. And yet, in that moment, the weight of what was unsaid between you—the unresolved tension, the memories, the regrets—hung in the air. 
Levi’s hand, which had been resting lightly on your shoulder, twitched as he fought the urge to touch you, to run his fingers through your hair, to let his guard down completely. But just as he was about to give in to the moment, he stopped himself.
A faint sigh escaped him as he pulled back, his forehead creasing with conflict. He couldn’t do it—not like this. Not while you were asleep and unaware. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and he knew better than to act on fleeting impulses, no matter how strong they felt in the moment.
With a deep breath, Levi settled back onto the pillow, keeping his arm around you but maintaining the distance between your faces. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing, the weight of the unspoken emotions pressing heavily on his chest.
As you shifted slightly in your sleep, your hand still clutching his shirt, Levi closed his eyes, trying to push away the longing that had nearly overtaken him.
But the truth lingered, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it: after all these years, he had never really let you go. 
He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of concern and something else flickering in his eyes before he carefully stood up from the bed, turned and quietly walked into his bathroom. He got two things, a cleanser and some cotton. 
He walked back to the bed, seeing you sleeping soundly. Gently, he sat down beside you and began to wipe the makeup off your face. He’s careful not to wake you, not applying too much pressure. He’s seen you do this back in college, telling him that makeup should always be removed before bed. If he could change your clothes he would as well. But you looked comfortable enough in his jacket. 
Levi walked back into the living room when he was done, his mind oddly restless despite the quiet of the apartment. He sat down on the couch, staring out the window at the city lights outside, knowing that tonight had been different. He didn’t know why he had brought you here instead of waking you up or why he had come to fetch you in the first place. He didn’t know why he didn’t refuse Hange’s call knowing that you were together. He didn’t know why he even dressed up and ran to your side without question. There were a lot of things he didn’t know and didn’t understand. Most of all, he doesn’t understand how you still have a hold of him like this all over the years you were gone. And to be honest, it angered him but mostly, it scared him. 
But as the minutes passed and the apartment remained still, he figured maybe it didn’t matter. And whatever questions you have, he'll figure it out tomorrow. For now, you were safe. And that was enough.
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© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.
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canesugarinmytea · 21 days ago
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A new series I'd like to call- writing about Shoto Todoroki x Loser-ish Reader whenever I feel like it: PART TWO
I don't believe in proofreading
CW: (Name) is a freak, this is more suggestive than my other works, (Name) is a businesswoman in a lucrative market but thats hardly referenced in this, speaking of that this is a fem reader, fist fights and friendly violence, some cursing, I hate this and I wrote it at twelve a.m. and i refuse to check my spelling, Shoto's freak actually matches (Name)'s freak to a concerning degree but that will be expanded on later
Divider by @/bronzewasp
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 Oh, (Name), where have you been the last two weeks, you didn’t even tell us what happened after you saw him and he saw you, you troglodyte- Yeah, well, I’ll tell you what happened, goddamn it.
  I… ran away.
  No, seriously. I ran away.
  Like a sewer rat seeing the light of day for the first time.
  Okay, look, do you seriously think you would’ve done any different? Well, news flash, pal, you wouldn’t have. Because when you see Shoto Todoroki reading a zine you made about getting very up close and personal with him, you get the fuck up out of there. Which I did.
  Very quickly and shamelessly.
  I made it about three hallways down before smacking right into a business course kid and sending us both flying. That’s probably the only reason I didn’t run home.
-
  Things are… different, lately. You know, it might just be that I saw the guy I write borderline-erotica about reading said borderline-erotica, but something about going to school is just different. 
  Also I am majorly hard over him, now. Like, badly. 
  I mean, basically every girl in school has been a little freaky over him, but this is actually new for me. I knew he was hot this whole time, but now that I’ve really seen him up close…
  Yeah, I’m screwed. I thought I would just shove his Level 100 self out of my mind and move on with my Level 4 life, but woah, dude. 
  Who knew that seeing a fine guy read a suggestive zine about himself was Cupid’s new age arrow? 
  But now that he’s gotten into my mind, getting him out isn’t exactly easy. 
  “Hey. Hey. (Name). (Name)!” Yua snaps me out of my mind, nearly shoving me onto the gravel. I come out of my stupor dumbly, stepping back while I readjust the stack of books in my arms. 
  “Uh… uh… yeah. What? What’re we doing?”
  “We’re taking these to the office, buttknocker. Seriously, what is your problem? How did you just develop amnesia?” Yua scoffs, glancing around the area. She comes up beside me, standing where I just stood and craning her neck to look to where I had gotten distracted. She stands still for a moment, blank faced, before slowly turning to me.
  “We’re never walking up this part again on our way to the office.” 
  “What?!” I cry out, looking between the Heroics field and her unamused face, gesturing as best I can with filled arms. “What are you talking about? I was just watching our… rising stars. I was being patriotic about our school.” 
  “Bitch, be patriotic when Todoroki isn’t sweating through that white wife beater.” Yua accuses me so unfairly, before turning her head back out to look across the field. We stand there in silence for a long while, watching Class 3 - A do their sparring or whatever. I don’t really have a clue what I’m looking at other than him. 
  He’s so… woah, dude. Like, noble, and hardworking, and powerful, and I’d rather put a barrel to the roof of my mouth than ever talk to him. 
  “...Blow his pants off, Blondie, I’ll give you a hundred-” Yua starts to yell, before I drop the books and slap a hand over her mouth, all of the blood draining from my face as I try to clamp my hands around her head to shut her up permanently….
  Heh, little did you all know…. This was my villain origin story the whole time….
  I’m doing a very good job, because Yua drops her things, too, and starts grappling with me, gripping my hair and the material of my shirt, slowly dragging me down to the ground with her. I can only imagine how terrifying I look, kicking up dust with a girl while I try (and fail miserably) to make her shut up.
  She knees me in the stomach while I press my palm over her mouth, trying to wrap my other arm around her neck. I am not having any witnesses to what she just tried to do- publicly murder me from embarrassment. 
  “I was trying to help you.” Yua hisses through her teeth against the skin of my hand, before cuffing me lovingly in the side of the head, making me roll off of her with a hiss of my own.
  “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow….”
  “That’s what you get, cunt.” She groans from next to me, lying in starfish position while staring up at the sky. The books lie off to the side, forgotten. 
  I groan, too, curling in on myself as I press a palm to my head, feeling where I’m no doubt going to have a huge bruise tomorrow. “Let’s never fight again, pretty princess.” 
  “Agreed- wait, what?”
  “What?”
  “What did you just call me?”
  “...A pret-”
  “What’s going on?” A worried voice appears above the both of us, a swift and cruelly cold breeze accompanying it. I hear Yua sputter off to the side as some frost lands on her mouth. I open my own mouth to speak, raising a hand over my eyes to block out the sun. When the light’s out of my eyes, my voice dissipates just as quickly as it rose.
  Every now and then, I fall apart; and I need you now, tonight, and I need you more than ever. And if you only hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever. And we’ll only be makin’ it right, ‘cause we’ll never be-
  Shoto takes a troubled step forward, coming closer to me and just barely leaning over my form, his eyes trailing from my awkwardly angled legs to my face. His brow furrows fucking majestically as he looks over my face. “Are you… alright? Are you okay?”
  I don’t know what to do, and I’m always in the dark, we’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks. I really need you tonight- Forever’s gonna start tonight, forever’s gonna start tonight-
  “(Name). (Name), please answer him. I’m about to shove my fist in your mouth if you don’t.” Yua mutters harshly, rolling over onto her stomach to smack my hand out of the air, letting the sun hit my eyes, forcing me to roll over and cover my face pitifully.
  It also gives me the perspective I need to get the hell over myself and say something. 
  “Uhm, uh… yeah. Yeah, we’re fine. We’re okay. Sorry, uh…. Just go back to whatever you were doing, we’re just talking out our differences.” 
  “I punched her. Hard.” Yua comments, undoing all of my diplomatic work. 
  “In a friendly way!”
  “There’s nothing friendly about casually punching people.” Shoto says in a voice I’d almost call bitter, leaning down to take my wrists and pull me up, to my complete and utter shock. Seriously, what is happening? He… just touched me. Like, really. Like, grabbed my wrists. Both wrists. 
  Holy shit.
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championari · 10 months ago
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True Love: Why FifteenxRogue Works
WOW. Man, that Rogue episode, huh? Watching that live was probably the greatest experience I’ve had recently regarding Doctor Who. Not just as a queer viewer, but as a queer media analyst. Fifteen and Rogue truly feel like a relationship written for me to analyze, because there is simply so frickin’ much to talk about. So, allow me, gentle reader, to be your Lady Whistledown of queer alien fuckery, and guide you through analyzing the latest dalliance of our Time Lord extraordinaire with the most honest bounty hunter in the galaxy. 
We’ll be covering a LOT of ground in this: the theme of facades/masks, an interrogation of The Doctor’s perception of romantic relationships, and a deep dive into The Fifteenth Doctor’s character overall. So, needless to say, this is going be a LONG LONG piece. Grab a snack, some water, whatever you need, cause we’re going deep on this one. 
You’re still here? Fantastic! Then let us begin! Specifically, with the Fifteenth Doctor himself. Because above all else, this episode works as a dissection of his character overall. 
I’ve already done two metas regarding The Giggle’s ending and The Doctor’s perception of romance pre-Season 1/14, so if you want more elaboration, go read those here: 1, 2. But in case you don’t, I’ll sum up and expand based on what we’ve learned since. 
The Doctor, as a character, has always struggled with commitment and attachment. They never stayed in one place for long and when they did, they had an unhealthy relationship with it (Trenzalore, Darillium, Bill’s University). Romantic connection is a permutation of this larger issue, as every romantic relationship we have seen The Doctor take part in since 2005 either was unbalanced (holding back problems/outright lying) or ended in a really bad way.  However, thanks to the 60th specials and a bi-generation, The Doctor went through a massive change, and with it, came a new perception of openness and love. Fifteen is more expressive, and willing to verbally identify beauty. He openly points out how beautiful people are, and talks about previous exploits with pride. But this supposed openness betrays a deeper dishonesty still inside the Doctor. As much as Fifteen talks the talk of openness, he doesn’t often walk the walk when things get tough.
Fifteen’s character struggle is trying to break out of the Doctor’s previous patterns of unstable attachment and commitment while continuing those patterns. He values emotional honesty and encourages it in others yet simultaneously runs from it when the spotlight is on himself, even when he knows it’s beneficial and necessary for him to do so. So, with all of that in mind, let’s deep dive into Rogue (the episode, not the character, but also the character).
The best word to describe this episode is ‘deception’. Setting the episode in Bridgerton-esque Regency-era England was an appropriate choice, likening to a show that is all about facades and posturing to gain wealth and social standing (yes I am oversimplifying, don’t hurt me). Throughout the episode, we see characters who aren’t who they present themselves to be and use all manner of tools or tactics to disguise themselves to meet their ends. 
We have the Chuldur, creatures who gain pleasure from cosplaying. They thrive on creating fake entertainment for their amusement, honesty is useless if it can’t satisfy them. While this is meant as an obvious commentary on fan culture and how dangerous it can get when taken to the extreme, it also functions as a darker reflection on The Doctor’s habits. Because think about it: what are Fifteen and Ruby doing in this episode? They are having fun, dancing alongside the other partygoers. They’re wearing the outfits but only to blend in. Ruby doesn’t know how to dance, she has to wear psychic earrings to keep up. She watches the fake fight between ‘Emily’ and ‘Lord Stilton’ like she would watch an episode of Bridgerton. Her fight with Emily later in the episode is set to Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ playing in the background.
What we’re seeing in the villains is The Doctor’s pastimes becoming toxic, taking a companion and bringing them to a culture far removed from their own. But it’s not only a commentary on The Doctor overall, it’s also Fifteen’s philosophy in a darker context. Posing as sincerity and maybe containing it to some extent, but ultimately not completely honest. Through the setting and the villains, the episode is already priming us on a subconscious level to be thinking about disguises and dishonesty, a topic that both The Doctor and the Fifteenth incarnation specifically have a complicated relationship with. And then comes Rogue.
Rogue himself is such a fascinating part of the episode because he is such a deliberate disruption to this cultivated environment of deception. Rogue is the complete antithesis of everyone in the plot. He’s terrible at improvising, he’s socially awkward, he dances without needing psychic earrings, and he never cleans the inside of his ship. Rogue intentionally disrupts the narrative of lies by not being able to play the game. Even when he tries to wear a mask, the mask of an uncaring bounty hunter, He doesn’t wear it well and gets rid of it after the ship scene with The Doctor. Rogue is a character who cannot help but be who he is, he’s a character who not only can’t wear a mask but doesn’t want to. To put it simply, honesty is Rogue’s kink. That’s why the episode is named after him; it’s not just because he’s a central character, but because he provides the counter-argument to the themes of lies and deception. Rogue, the disruptor to The Chuldur’s acts of fake entertainment, and the disruptor to The Doctor’s act of cosplaying with Ruby, and on a deeper level, disrupts Fifteen’s oscillation between sincerity and repression. But we’ll get to that, we have Mount Everest's amount of context to analyze first, starting with their first meeting.
The Doctor and Rogue’s beginning scene sets the stage for the main obstacle in their relationship: their masks. ‘Cause right now we’re operating with two versions of the characters: the facade/mask versions, and the real versions. We get our first look at Rogue when Fifteen looks around for interference on the psychic earrings. He finds him being the most conspicuous while wearing the ‘bounty hunter’ mask: on a balcony (separated from the party physically), not speaking at all. 
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He is standing out here but only in the way someone who knows disguises would recognize. The Doctor, remember no. 1 liar, of course he’s gonna recognize that. So much so, that he gives Rogue pointers on how to put on a better “brooding” face, literally teaching him how to wear the mask better. Rogue is an amateur mask wearer, going up against the master of mask-wearing. And that’s why Fifteen smiles when he sees him, he’s intrigued by that contradiction and wants to know more. 
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Rogue meanwhile, is being rude and dismissive to scare him off, trying to keep to the mask he’s built. At this point, he knows that Fifteen also stands out from the rest but right now is assuming that he’s still a random partygoer. Notice what he says to him: 
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He’s still using language and ideas someone from that era would understand. Where this deviates is this little exchange that felt familiar to me, but I couldn’t figure out from where. Until I remembered this:
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(credit to @ngatwa for this set, you're amazing)
This is the first instance in the episode where Fifteen and Rogue’s relationship calls back to previous romantically-coded relationships The Doctor has had between companions. But it’s not just romantic subtext, it’s subtext that explains where the two are in the relationship. Victorian Clara was far more than what she appeared to be (a governess masquerading as a barmaid/echo of a companion scattered in the Doctor’s timeline), and the Doctor was more than he appeared to be (an alien who lived in a blue box). In asking those questions, it’s both recognition of the masks and inquiry for the real person underneath. Same thing here: Rogue and Fifteen at this point are trying to figure each other out, trying to see beyond the masks of the uncaring bounty hunter, and the flirtatious partygoer. Where things start to go wrong is that neither party fesses up to who they are. Rogue instantly assumes Fifteen is The Chuldur he’s looking for, while Fifteen assumes Rogue is a regular partygoer looking to…*ahem* create a scandal in the gardens if you get what I mean. This explains why a violin rendition of Billie Eilish’s ‘Bad Guy’ plays in the background. It’s not just a Bridgerton reference, it’s contributing to both characters’ perception of each other in this scene: both characters think the other is the “bad guy”. The lead into the scene is deception, we leave it the same way. No breakthrough yet. 
Now we’re moving on to the scene in the garden, where both masks of Fifteen and Rogue begin clashing with their real personalities. Fifteen is still being semi-sincere, still complimenting Rogue. And like water, all of it is rolling off of him because he’s still under the assumption he’s talking to a shapeshifting alien. He rudely asks about The Doctor’s info dumping and doesn’t respond to The Doctor’s compliments.
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(credit to @klausbens for the gif, you're awesome)
He’s not engaging because he thinks the Doctor is not who he appears to be, and for a character that values honesty, everything Fifteen says is gonna wash over him. The moment this changes is when the two are accusing the other of the murder. Quite literally finishing each other’s sandwiches (C’mon, you know I had to throw a Frozen reference in this somewhere). 
This is a very interesting scene given our current context. Trope-wise, this is meant to communicate to the audience the bond between the two characters, they’re thinking the same thing. But the trope is flipped on its head because both characters take it in opposite directions. Both Fifteen and Rogue are in perfect sync, they are being honest about how much they understand about the situation, but that information is leading them to completely different conclusions (i.e. the other person is the Chuldur). They’re slapping more masks onto each other, this time with information they know is true, which leads to them locking in their heels and simply not being honest altogether until later. This scene is a repeat of the previous one, except this time it’s them showing their hands a bit more, making the backslide all the more difficult. Getting close to sealing the deal, then heel turn at the last minute, a classic Bridgerton move. 
So, what needs to happen to break this backslide? Well, plain and simple honesty. The scene on Rogue’s ship is when both masks start coming off. What Fifteen is doing on the ship during the scene is essentially trying to figure out Rogue. He finds out the ship is meant to be piloted by two, and he discovers the origin of Rogue’s name, the Kylie Minogue music. Which is a moment I want to zoom in on. Right before this happens when Rogue gives a cheeky response to Fifteen finding out about the name, Fifteen makes a joke and starts emphasizing his Scottish accent. This is Fifteen putting on another mask to make a joke, and Rogue doesn’t appreciate that, given his dirty look. 
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Then Fifteen finds the music, which he then again uses as an opportunity to joke around and make fun of him (and flirt a little bit with him).  Fifteen is removing Rogue’s mask, while he is staying enigmatic and mysterious, which is why Rogue is still stonewalling him. HOWEVER, two can play that game, and Fifteen makes a big mistake in showing Rogue the psychic paper. This is the first time Fifteen is completely honest about his feelings towards Rogue. No mask, no posturing, complete honesty. And we see Rogue responds positively to this: 
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This is the first time the two are both on the same level, communicating honestly. And that’s where we start to see genuine romantic feelings and attraction. 
But it’s not enough, so what does Fifteen do? He pulls out the big guns. He shows Rogue the truth: he’s a Time Lord from Gallifrey and has lived many different lives over hundreds of years. He not only rips off his mask, he quite literally reveals all of the other masks the Doctor has worn throughout the ages. And what is Rogue’s reaction to this? 
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Complete besotted awe. If honesty is Rogue’s kink, then The Doctor revealing their faces just supercharged it. This is the moment that Rogue falls in love because he’s finally seeing who this mysterious flirty person really is. 
Now, I’m gonna pull out another previous Doctor romance for two reasons: One, I’ve been seeing this comparison floating around for a while, and if you know me and my old analyses, it’s that I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, and two, because I think it applies here. I’ve been seeing comparisons online of this episode to Girl in the Fireplace, in which a new character falls in love with The Doctor and gets the rare opportunity to see their true self. But what makes Reinette different from Rogue is that honesty kink. Reinette was attracted to the mystery of the Doctor, her childhood hero who somehow doesn’t age. Note when he comes back the first time, she focuses on how strange he is:
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She learns more about them later, but she was already in love with them before that. Rogue doesn’t want the mystery. In reality, The Doctor wearing masks is a turnoff for him. He only wants the real thing, so when Fifteen reveals the truth, that’s when the genuine romance begins. 
(We could also extend this comparison to the discussion of consent: Reinette found out everything without The Doctor's permission, while Fifteen revealed all the info by himself, but whether we can consider this consensual depends on your definition of consent under duress/threat. So I’m not entirely sure what to make of this conversation, feel free to expand in the tags/replies cause I want to hear more about this)
So now we’re moving along to the TARDIS scene. We continue with the theme of disguises with the whole “bigger on the inside” routine, Fifteen riffing as Willy Wonka for a hot moment singing Pure Imagination, and we have Rogue’s momentary slip-up:
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(credit to klausbens for the gifs, you're awesome)
This is a great sign of character growth because while he’s maybe not wholly honest about his feelings towards The Doctor, he still is open about his love for the TARDIS, an important part of The Doctor’s life, so big step right there. 
I want to pay attention to the heart-to-heart here because watching what Fifteen says and how he reacts is extremely important to getting his view on the situation. Because right now, I wouldn’t say The Doctor is in love with Rogue back. While there is a lot of attraction and hints at a deeper bond, Fifteen is still operating with most of his mask on. Notice that when he asks Rogue about the person he lost, Ncuti Gatwa’s blocking has him leaning on the railing at an angle to the side of Rogue. He’s purposely staying at a distance, yet is leaning on the railings to appear casual. 
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And when Rogue starts opening up, he moves closer and they’re at equal distance from each other.
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We get a really sweet (and allegorical to the queer community) moment about The Doctor’s motivation of living out of respect for the dead, to keep living each day that they lost. And then we get Fifteen inviting Rogue onto the TARDIS. I want to focus on this because he doesn’t seem upset or disappointed by Rogue countering this offer by inviting The Doctor to travel with him, meaning he doesn’t see this as a “take it or leave it” offer. In fact, the compromise Fifteen comes up with, “let’s argue across the stars” and Rogue accepting it, is what leads to the almost kiss. So that prompts the question, what is Fifteen trying to say here? 
Well, what Fifteen is asking for is to continue seeing Rogue. It doesn’t matter to him if he’s on the TARDIS or not, all that matters is that he still has him in his life. The choice to see him more. Why does that sound familiar? Because that’s exactly what I wrote about in my dissertation on The Giggle’s Ending: 
“In giving Fourteen their own TARDIS, Fifteen is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. Fourteen can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.”
Fifteen’s love language is giving the people he cares about the freedom to express the love they already have within them. He values freedom above all else, and when Rogue accepts that freedom, that’s when we get the almost-kiss. This is the moment where The Doctor falls in love with Rogue back because it’s Rogue being willing to meet The Doctor where they’re at. He’s allowing Fifteen to set the pace and not force himself on him. 
Additionally, this willingness to be as slow or fast as The Doctor needs means far more to The Doctor overall than to just Fifteen. Many people have already pointed out the similarities between the line “let’s argue across the stars' and previous lines the Doctor has said to villainous characters like The Master and The Toymaker:
"We can take your games back to the stars."
"We can fight across the constellations if that's what you want".
Now, why is that? It’s because again, The Doctor’s perception of Rogue is evolving in this scene. Remember, up to this point, The Doctor doesn’t entirely know Rogue’s morality. All they know is that Rogue is a bounty hunter, and is not afraid to use his gun when he deems appropriate. There’s even a little line in this scene before the heart-to-heart where Fifteen specifically imposes his own brand of morality on the situation: “Whatever the Chuldur has done, I can’t let you kill it.” Now, we know that The Doctor’s morality and romantic life can conflict: River being a known murderer/psychopath, their longtime situationship, and later attempted rehabilitation of The Master/Missy. This is another feature of The Doctor’s character: while they do act like they have the final say on what is right, they also compromise that morality for people they care about. 
Like how The Doctor surprised Rogue by showing all of his faces, Rogue surprised the Doctor right back by not only being honest about his past but by being willing to accept The Doctor’s compromise. This moment is when The Doctor finds out that Rogue is a good person, and that The Doctor doesn’t need to compromise their morality when entering this relationship.
This heart-to-heart is about Rogue not only winning over the Fifteenth Doctor by agreeing with his values of freedom but also winning over The Doctor overall by just genuinely being a good person. But of course, the moral duty of taking care of the Chuldur rears its head in the form of the TARDIS alerting that the trap is ready. The bubble has popped and we still have a long way to go. 
(Plus, Fifteen’s facial expression in this shot perfectly captures that trademark “Oh.” moment, realizing you’re in love with someone but then taping it down to focus back on the immediate problem. Love you Ncuti Gatwa, you do great work)
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Alright, now we’re at the dance/fake proposal scene. Oh lord, so much happens here with both dialogue and production regarding character, so let’s take this one at a time. Fifteen, Rogue and now Ruby have figured out the big plot regarding the Chuldur, their obsession with cosplay and dressing up to create drama. In response, Fifteen comes up with the idea to essentially beat them at their own game: create a fake scandal to draw them out. 
Now on paper and in terms of beating the bad guys, this is a plan that could and does work, but in terms of his relationship with Rogue: THIS. WAS. A. BAD. IDEA. Why? The very idea of masks and faking not only was the leading cause of them not connecting in the beginning but specifically doesn’t work with Rogue. You can see it in how Rogue nervously looks at Ruby and Emily when Fifteen asks him to dance, and even questions the validity of the plan: 
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(credit goes to @carricfisher for texted gif, you're awesome)
It’s not just that he doesn’t know about homophobia, he just doesn’t like the idea of pretending at all. But the reason why it doesn’t collapse right away is because it’s not entirely pretending. The dance may function on the surface to create a scene, but for Rogue (and Fifteen albeit to a smaller extent) it doubles as an intimate moment between them. This connects to the choice of dimming the lights in an unrealistic way (which btw, as a film student, had me going insane watching it live). We’re seeing a deliberate break in reality, a dishonest showcase of the story being told, that serves the purpose of highlighting an ultimately honest and sincere act of love. Both The Doctor and Rogue are warping the aesthetic of deception in terms of the narrative by fabricating a scandal, and in terms of the production by changing the lighting. 
But of course, things start going to hell right there. Fifteen tries to up the drama and Rogue can’t keep up. Rogue overcorrects and proposes to Fifteen, who freaks out and leaves the room. Now, I don’t want to get into the question of whether or not Rogue was playing along by proposing or being genuine (Personally speaking, I think it was both. 70% true, and 30% fake). Instead, I want to clear up why Fifteen freaked out here. I’m sure a lot of the long-time audience could already guess that it was parallel to River Song, The Doctor’s wife, but I think it’s more layered than that. Why would a reference to River scare the Doctor so much, aside from reminding them of a close person they lost? Because the last time the Doctor got married to someone they truly loved, it involved a 24-year stay on Darillium, which he knew would end in tragedy. Note the word choice here:
“Sorry I…I can’t.”
Not ‘I don’t want this’, it’s a void of agency (which connects to my piece on The Giggle’s ending and freedom). The Doctor can’t have that with Rogue, he was fine with them being casual to avoid the possibility of losing him. 
But on my first watch, I couldn’t help getting a little bit cross with Fifteen here, because the amount of ball fumbling on display is outright ridiculous; The Time Lord brings himself onto the dancefloor, with a guy he nearly made out with two minutes ago, gets all up in his face and starts shouting at him to “tell me what you heart wants!” and then completely freezes when said guy starts proposing to him. What in the fuck did you expect was going to happen, bud?! What made you think this would go off without a hitch?
I want to preface this by saying I had a completely different reading of this scene for a long time. My original thought was that Fifteen was trying to do multiple things simultaneously. He potentially was trying to lure out the Chuldur by creating scandal and at the same time, was trying to have a serious talk with Rogue about where he’s at emotionally. These lines in particular have fascinated me since my first watch: “You would ask me to give up my title, my fortune. But what future can you promise me?”. It did feel like these lines hinted at Fifteen’s thought process at this moment, he chose those specific lines to use for this moment. Was Fifteen trying to have an honest conversation with Rogue about their relationship while being fake to everyone else? But that doesn’t make sense considering the previous conversation in the TARDIS showed Fifteen comfortable with the idea of them being casual and Rogue respecting that, so it doesn’t make sense with where Fifteen is progression-wise. 
But it wasn’t until writing out this piece that I realized I had it all wrong and the truth was far simpler: this is a repeat of their meeting on the balcony, albeit with higher personal stakes. Let’s take a step back here: What is happening in this scene? Fifteen and Rogue are completely missing what the other is trying to say. Fifteen ignored Rogue being visibly uncomfortable over being back to playing with masks, and Rogue is not getting if Fifteen wants him to be genuine or not. Just like on the balcony and the garden, where both sides think they’re saying one thing when it’s the opposite. Before, both parties were wrong about who they were, now both parties are wrong about what they want. 
Fifteen is saying complete bullshit here, not true stuff to their situation but stuff that their audience would react to. He’s being over the top on purpose to elicit reactions. Meanwhile Rogue is thinking he’s being genuine. He thinks Fifteen is, through code speak, trying to genuinely ask him these questions. Which leads him to get down on one knee. And that’s a big problem because Rogue doesn’t know that proposing is wading into a gargantuan trauma pool for The Doctor. This scene is a magnified example of the duo’s problem with masks and not being completely honest with each other. 
However, while this scene may have been a cause for regression from The Doctor on the relationship part, Rogue on the other hand has an epiphany. In the scene following this one, we get the truly iconic callback of “Run.” and Rogue taking the Doctor’s hand. Why is this important? Well, there are three specific examples that this moment is calling back to: 
Nine meeting Rose ("Run!")
Victorian Clara and Eleven fleeing from the Ice Governess ("I do the handgrabbing! That's my job! That's always me!")
Twelve running with River ("Stop holding my hand! People don't do that to me!")
Nine meeting Rose establishes this idea of protection: The Doctor taking care of someone by leading them away from danger. The other two examples are subversions of that idea: Clara and River are now leading The Doctor out of danger. Same principle here, except here it has a bit more context behind it. Clara and River subverting that act of protection made sense given who they were: Clara as an echo across The Doctor’s time stream knew who The Doctor was and what they needed, even if she didn’t know it consciously when the moment happened. River as The Doctor’s wife also knew who they were and what they needed at the time. 
By connecting Rogue’s action of taking Fifteen’s hand and running to Clara and River, it not only again connects Fifteen and Rogue to previous romantic relationships, but it also shows Rogue learning from his mistake. Rogue’s mistake in the proposal scene was him not figuring out what Fifteen needed at that moment, it was a major miscommunication. Now, at this moment, Rogue is starting to figure out what he needs to do. He is, to use relationship lingo, "shelving his agenda" to help the Doctor. 
And that progression continues through the last leg of the episode, including the moment when Fifteen thinks Ruby is dead. I’ve always found this moment in particular so fascinating because of how loud it is metaphorically for both characters. Fifteen is taking off the mask of coolness and revealing that Doctor™ anger. This is a complete switch-up from what he’s been like throughout most of the episode. Yet when he lets out that chilling line, “Good. That’s a long time to suffer.” Rogue doesn’t look all that scared or mad at him. 
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The face Rogue makes here looks far closer to a resigned sadness, almost like he knew that he would have that reaction. Keep in mind that Rogue knows nothing about The Doctor at their worst, all that he knows right now is that they lost “everyone”. Compare that with Donna, who was outright terrified of The Doctor when at their worst (for good reason though). 
Rogue isn’t surprised by this at all. He’s not asking “What happened to this person in front of me?”, he’s realizing “This is how much he cares about his best friend.” He’s seeing the depth of this person’s love that is inexorably linked to the depth of his grief, and is realizing he can’t allow that grief to corrupt this person he’s grown to love, even if it means endangering himself. Which is exactly what ends up happening.
This is where the theme of masks finally pays off. At the beginning of the episode, both Rogue and Fifteen are wearing their masks (cold, uncaring bounty hunter, and flirtatious partygoer). Those masks started to come down, but that got messed up thanks to miscommunication. Rogue didn’t understand what The Doctor needed from him, causing their trauma to resurface and The Doctor ran away from having to deal with that grief. This final scene is them being completely honest with each other. Rogue asks him “Can you lose your friend to save the world?”, and Fifteen tells him the truth. He can’t, he can’t let that happen again. And Rogue understands that, he finally knows what needs to be done. And so he kisses him. Why did Rogue kiss him? Again, it’s a repeat of a previous scene, this time the dance. Rogue is comfortable putting on a mask/doing something dishonest when there’s an aspect of truth to it. Even if they danced together to serve a lie, it still was a moment powered by romantic feelings. Same with the kiss. Rogue had wanted to kiss him, so he felt comfortable doing something with an ulterior motive (taking the button from him) because it was also something he would’ve wanted to do regardless of the situation. 
But why did Rogue do it? The one line that I kept thinking of in summing up the intent behind Rogue's sacrifice was, ironically, from Frozen: "Love is...putting someone else's needs before yours”. Essentially, shelving your agenda, like we’ve been saying. Back in the proposal scene, Rogue’s mess up was not figuring out what Fifteen needed out of him at that moment. Fifteen needed him to play along in faking and instead, Rogue heel turned into a lot of trauma for The Doctor. So now, after seeing how important Ruby was to Fifteen, so important that he was willing to torture The Chuldur out of grief, Rogue is putting The Doctor’s needs before his own and stopping him from having to choose between her and the world. It's also why Rogue wiping away his tears before the kiss was so crazy because that's normally the Doctor's job. The Doctor is normally the one who turns sadness into hope. This time, someone else is doing that for him.
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(credit to ngatwa again)
The greatest act of love in the episode was not the proposal, it was the sacrifice.
To close our tale, let us circle back to talking about Fifteen’s character arc. I opened this essay by talking about Fifteen’s main character flaw being a contradiction: both valuing emotional intimacy and running from it. That doesn’t seem to change by the end of this episode, so much so that Ruby forces Fifteen to take a moment and mourn Rogue’s loss when he wants to steamroll forward. But there’s one little detail left: Fifteen kept the ring. Not only kept it but is wearing it in the season finale to the point of even playing with it like a nervous tick. 
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That bond, that relationship was so important to him that he doesn’t allow himself to ignore it. It’s only after he has that hug with Ruby that he pulls out the ring and chooses to wear it. Rogue is the one thing Fifteen won’t run away from because what they had wasn’t fake. It was real. 
Rogue, the supposed bounty hunter who only cared about wealth, loved The Doctor so much that he was willing to give up his life for his friend. The Doctor, the supposed Time Lord who flees from attachment, loves Rogue enough to remember him every day.  
I ask you, gentle readers, how could one resist a love story like that?
NOTE: some extra bits I wanted to include that I couldn’t fit anywhere else: I’m such a sucker for color symbolism, and having Rogue wear blue in contrast to Fifteen’s normally warm color palette, as well as blue being the color of The TARDIS…it just makes me feel things, ya’ know? 
Also, by not gendering Rogue’s previous partner, only ever using they/them pronouns, it helps add to the relationship in a social commentary way. It subtly shows that Rogue already has experience/is attracted to people who on some level defy gender norms, which helps prime the audience to buy Rogue accepting/liking The Doctor being able to change gender when regenerating.
Essentially, I'm insane over these two, and I need them back on screen as soon as possible.
76 notes · View notes
venomvalley · 2 years ago
Note
If your requests for smut week are still open...what about some soft smut? It's reader's first time, and while they know about it of course they're very nervous and they want Leon to be their first but they're still hesitant? Sorry if that's weird lol
this was!!! so cute!!!! i also paired it with another request involving reader being a fellow rookie and they start dating :’))
18+ only // gn!reader
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You signed on to the RPD a year before him. Naive and starry-eyed and genuine in your own right. Became his pseudo-mentor, the Rope Shower. Still green enough to be assigned all the lesser duties.
But you don’t mind. Leon smiles at you all sweet and shy. Speaks from a place of naïve optimism—endearing despite your own… perceptions.
He latches onto you, much like a puppy dog. Chooses you to answer his questions, to greet every morning inside the bullpen. Holds promise. Tries to prove himself as much as he can, and you tell him on multiple occasions the importance of moderation. Reigning in his emotions lest they feast on him from the inside out.
Well. A bit more… tactful than that, but your point still stands. And he’s receptive to the advice. Respects your opinions to a shocking degree.
He reveals to you the reasoning six months later, when he asks you out for coffee after a particularly boring night shift.
“So. Is this a date?”
He shrugs from across the booth. Smiles soft, slightly wincing. “If you want it to be.”
“But do you want it to be?”
He doesn’t reply at first. Hides a smile behind the rim of his coffee cup that quickly sours upon his first taste of the drink. “I’ll be honest. I don’t even like coffee. I just see you drink it all the time.”
“Then how about we go somewhere that you’ll actually like?”
The relationship takes off from there. Puppy love in its purest form. You keep it hush-hush around your co-workers. Steal kisses in quiet corridors, remain friendly around others.
A year into dating, you think he might be the one. You know, The Chosen One—of a certain sexual act. You realize you love him. That isn’t the problem.
The problem lies in insecurity. You’re a grown ass adult, and he’s your second ever relationship, and fuck. Sex makes you nervous. First-time horror stories, the potentiality of shaming—he would never, you know that, but the anxiety still looms. Losing virginity is every bit a social construct and knowing that you fall for the ideal makes everything worse somehow. Even more embarrassing.
You have no idea what you’re doing. The fit of his cock aches your jaw. Finding a rhythm proves difficult. You break the blowjob cardinal sin: no teeth. He’s tooth-rotting sweet about it all. Your mistakes. Reassures you that he’s okay, that he probably won’t be that good either. That part of loving someone is learning their body. He has to learn, too. Which reassures you. Gives you an equal playing field to stand on.
He turns off the lights when you ask, leaves the curtains open to stream in moonlight—it helps quell the stomach-churning vulnerability you suffer through.
And he’s soft with you. Tender. He holds you like he means it. Kisses and touches and pairs preparation with enough lube to leave you dripping.
Is this okay?
Does it hurt?
Do you like that?
Questions, frequent but appreciated. He cares for your comfort. Suggests that you ride him to control the pace, and it feels amazing like this. The thick stretch, the slow fill, the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. He’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Wide-eyed in glistening blue, ruddy at the cheeks. Hair brushed from his face, spread upon the pillow. His chest expands with each deep inhale, each moan a gravelly punch as you swallow his cock to the root and seat yourself on him.
“Feel good?” you ask, more sigh than words.
He nods his head, eyes lidding as they trail the expanse of your body, all curve and valley and sweatslick skin. “I should be asking you that.”
You exhale a laugh as he brushes both hands up the slope of your waist, honeyed reverence woven thick between his fingers. “Better than I expected.”
“Just better?”
“I have zero frame of reference.” You bend down to kiss him, and he brackets both arms around your back, adjusts his legs atop the sheets. Makes you feel safe and wanted, and he kisses you like it’ll be the last time. Fueled by the wet heat of your mouth, same as the clench of your body around his cock. “I’m just kidding, by the way. It’s way better than I expected.”
The blush bleeds down to his neck, onto his chest—adorable, endearing in a way only he can be. “Oh. Okay.”
You lean back onto your knees, and his hands readjust to massage over your thighs. The position leaves your breath stuttering, nerves sensitive and stimulated. “Sorry, am I being weird?”
His brows furrow in a look of incredulity. “No—what? No.”
You are, though. At least, you think. Maybe you aren’t. Maybe it’s a matter of overthinking. A need for perfection like in the preconceived fiction of movies or books. Something… unachievable.
But it’s already perfect, right? For all the night’s mishaps, it’s Leon beneath you. He cares about your comfort, your enjoyment, even despite his own nervousness. That’s all that matters.
Better than you could’ve dreamed of.
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nobodysdaydreams · 2 years ago
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More Hatchetverse Theory: Sycamore High and the Timberwolves are connected to the Hatchetmen and the Tree-People
Starkid's Hatchetverse has retriggered my hyperfixation, and by golly if you think I'm not gonna share every unhinged theory...you're wrong. I’ll tag them “#hatchetverse theory” to make it easier. So let's dive in.
One thing I haven't seen anyone talking about is the fact that, based on what we know about canon, Sycamore High School likely shouldn't exist.
Hatchetfield is a "tiny town". There doesn't seem to be a reason for them to have two high schools, especially when Sycamore seems to not even have enough staff and students for most extra curriculars and programs (in TGWDLM, Paul mentions they don't have a theater program).
So why does Sycamore High School exist? Well, one thing I noticed was that SYCAMORE High as well as its mascot, the TIMBERwolves, have tree related pun names. And what a coincidence, trees happened to be big in the hatchetfield universe, particularly when it comes to the hatchetmen and their hatred of the LIB and magic/“the gift” in general. They did plant a forest of magic tree people after all. And, since they hate the LIB so much, they likely wouldn't want their children attending high school at one of the black altar locations, which just so happens to be Hatchetfield High. That gives them a motivation to build an alternative school.
Sounds like a pretty solid theory to me, but then there's also the fact that the residents also seem to have an odd attitude towards Sycamore High. It's not hated by Hatchetfield High with the same level of hatred they give the Clivesdale Chemists, but they still don't like Sycamore, and the students hate the idea of transferring there. Which seems odd. You'd think it would be the other way around since Hatchetfield High is the school with the black altar. Unless being around a black altar makes the students hate Sycamore, and I could probably do a whole different rant on how the LIB's influence is messing with the perceptions and behavior of the people of Hatchetfield, particularly at the altar locations or when someone uses or has used the black book, but maybe I'll save that for later.
However, if you really wanted to take this theory to the extreme, it could be part of the reason why Paul "doesn't like musicals." Musicals and music are the primary way Pokey expands his influence in Hatchetfield, at least in TGWDLM. That might be one of the reasons Sycamore doesn't have a choir or theater program: not just due to lack of students, but strategically to keep Pokey's influence out. Paul went to Sycamore High, which isn't a black altar (and indeed, might even be designed to counteract or resist the LIB), therefore he's more put off by music and musical performances in Hatchetfield, though he doesn't really know why.
I also suspect this isn't the only instance where the name of locations around town have significance. This has already been seen several times, particularly with the black altar locations.
For example:
The Starlight Theater: has a star theme similar to "the Church of the Starry Children"
CCRP (COVEN Communication Research and Power): Literally has the word "Coven" in it.
Lakeside Mall: Used to be the old mill (which would be located near water, also "mall" and "mill" are one letter off).
And trust me, I have my theories about Clivesdale as well, but again, maybe that one is better for another time.
I hope you enjoy Starkid fandom!
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lovingdabeessss · 1 year ago
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Mini ramble cause I’m tired I’ll expand later probably
Blake and Weiss have trouble with their emotions because of their different kinds of abuse they’ve experienced but they still clearly have them, you know? They talk about them and they talk about it a lot their was a whole arc that was just them talking about their emotions very loudly at each other so having the emotions or expressing it doesn’t really bother them that much
or at least not in every environment, Yang and Ruby are the safest space they got they’ll fight each other to the death around them if they’d let them if you want to have unsavory emotions and unsavory words they’re the two people they’re both comfortable doing it around
It seems like they’re biggest issue with having negative emotions is how other people perceive them and how others react and putting up a front around others unless really comfortable
(What an incredible life changing experience it must’ve been to have that kinda safe space with people who care about you for no reason other then because they do and not for any ulterior motive after so long of not feeling like that to love someone so much you could safely hate them and they’d still ask you include you in ever conversation, it’s like that one measurement of love and comfort where if your kid complains and whines about things you make them do to you then they love you and think your safe to be around and if they’re silent and obedient and distant they think your not)
However with Yang and Ruby it’s not a front they’re not pretending to not feel the emotions they’re actually just not feeling them
They’re refusing to outright
Ruby doesn’t vent till she’s in a universe where GRIM DONT EXIST and then the emotions overwhelm her so much she DIES
Yang does let herself have negative emotions but ONLY anger which is controlled and specifically when she can take that kinda heat she expresses anger not only with the acknowledgment of the risk to herself but also often when other people are also already upset
Yangs semblance is clearly designed to make it easier for her to take hits for others this expression of anger goes along with the fact that it lights her on fire and makes her big and bright she’s making herself a bigger target
Cough cough not subtle metaphor cough cough YOU KNOW LIKE WHAT YOU DO AGAINST BEARS?!?! GOLDILOCKS!?!?!? Cough cough not subtle metaphor cough cough
(And Yang and Ruby will sometimes have breakdowns because of this where everything totally boils over and they have no way of dealing with it and they end up sobbing but even then they usually manage to do it in a closed off room)
Their lives have been centered completely around becoming huntresses and surviving through and killing grim it’s been their whole lives if the grim are attracted to negative emotions it doesn’t matter if you don’t show it on your face it’s GETTING you
To be a hunter you have to choose either:
1- go fucking crazy (all of the teachers at beacon for whatever reason)
2- be good enough at your job to be mentally ill (qrow)
3- DIE
So they just couldn’t feel shit cause they didn’t hav the skill level as children to allow that and survive
And obviously they do feel these things but it’s SOO repressed (Ruby I believe less so but it’s still beneath the surface so she’s good)
Blake and Weiss had a ton of shit to worry about but Blake was always more focused on other people as enemies and only had to personally worry about that after she joined the white fang and learned how to fight and I GENUINELY believe that the forest with Ruby was the first time Weiss’s isolated SKY CITY looking ass ever saw a real grim in person and not her sisters fake ones
And I think this is just really interesting because of how long it might’ve taken Yang and Ruby to realize the difference between their partners and them and why I think it might’ve led to interesting interactions but they’d probably never outright talk about it with them because it might lead to emotions
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stygiansun-totaleclipse · 1 month ago
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when i say i audibly gasped looking at the new demo design i MEAN it. it's absolutely gorgeous. this is one of the wips i can replay over and over and read it as if it's my first time, instead of skimming through the sentences because i know them already. your writing, the options for characterization, the way you portray the characters and their relationships with one another, the nuances between mother/tutor and MC and just the overall vibe of the game is so immersive and flawless. i am IN love with stygian sun: total eclipse, it haunts me in the most delicious way. also, your art is SO GODDAMN PRETTY your characters all look so individual while maintaining aspects that relate them to one another/create distinction (depending on their culture/nationality/station). and I'm in awe with the way you write grief and emotions in general (also would die and kill for farah and farwah, my baby sister and my baby serval) just CHEF'S KISS thank you so so much for all your hard work
as a question: are you thinking of adding more weapon choices? currently there's spear, sword, battle-axe and bow. i understand short-range weapons like daggers and even a khopesh wouldn't be as useful in battle, but I've seen mentions of scimitar (if I'm not mistaken) and although it's a sword and i know this choice means we've inherited Castor's sword, if we'll be able to later expand on what kind of sword? or even choose other weapons, like an urumi or something else you might think would work. i can only imagine how much more work adding the variables/flavor text for this would be, so this is in no way criticism or a demand, just really curious!!!
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🥺🥺❤️💕 Thank you so much—that’s such an incredibly sweet and thoughtful message!! I’m really honored you’ve come to love the story that much and that it has that much replay value for you ❤️ I have a few fave IFs/books like that—ones where I just love the story/characters/writing so much I can reread it word for word and so I’m so flattered that my writing has resonated with you that much! I never expected the reactions/support the demo has gotten when I first decided to start writing my own IF 🥺💕 This story and all the characters are literally constantly on rotation in my head like a microwave and I’m glad I’ve been able to infect you all with the brainrot introduce you to them!! :D ❤️ (and yes!! Farah and Farwah are baby certified 👍👍👍 baby sis and kitty cat for the win)
Also thank you!! I really like doing character designs and I’ve had a lot of fun bringing all the characters to life through drawing! :D Originally when I was in my early brainstorming for this story and making the first character designs, I actually was planning on making a VN but I ended up switching to an IF bc it’d have been way too much work to make all the assets for a VN myself and this story will just be way too big for a VN lol. And I can get kinda wordy :P
As for your question, I thought about other weapon types but I ended up going with just four because I’ll have to write variations for fight/spar scenes that take into account how each weapon would be used in a fight and how it measures up against an opponent’s weapon and adding more options/variations would make things too complicated I think. 🤔 I don’t know that I’ll add much variation in the type of sword/axe/etc that mc used either bc those would also come with their own usage differences and adding variations for each weapon would make for a lot of scene variations lol. It will probably be locked in as the same weapon the siblings used, but you can always headcanon it’s a different weapon! And maybe as I’m writing things and I feel I’d like to make any changes to weapons I can always do that later :) But for now I don’t want to overload myself lol :P
Thank you again for reading and thank you so much for your kind ask!! ❤️❤️💕 I really appreciate you taking the time to write it and share your thoughts/questions! It means a lot to me and makes me happy to hear from you! ❤️❤️❤️
( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )
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ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 6 months ago
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Azul pt 1
The fact that he waited until the next day to find her was a bit surprising, but that didn’t make it any less scary when Floyd Leech catches Yuu outside class.  
“Shrimpy.” his tone is flat. The hand around the collar of her uniform isn’t tight, but it’s clear she isn’t going anywhere. “With me. Now.”  
“Ah shit, he’s actually pissed.” Ace mutters, stiff beside her.  
“Floyd, how you doing?” Yuu smiles. Nope, definitely not in the mood.  
“Wait,” Deuce puts a hand on her wrist. “We still have class. She'll get in trouble if she skips.”  
“It’s not skipping, Azul can write a note as house warden.” He picks her up again, no more than a ragdoll. “If you pull the same trick you did yesterday, it’s not going to be pretty. Nobody has escaped my squeeze before, and we aint starting with you.” He bares his teeth, tapping her nose with his free hand.  
Yuu can’t recognize if he’s genuinely angry or just annoyed with her escape. She isn’t willing to test it, and she knows she is too tired to do so again. Mary had already warned her off of doing so outside of Ramshackle for now, until she got used to Underground magic.  
“Um, I’ll see you guys later?” she waves, hoping that this will be quick at least.  
He doesn’t put her down once, even when she politely asks. He isn’t quiet though. He seems more annoyed that he had to pull in Idia to provide camera footage that she actually disappeared and didn’t just decide not to get her. The twins don’t seem to enjoy arguing with Azul, though the lines look fuzzy from the outside.  
The bubble always feels odd going down, and then the coolness of Octavinelle settles in. It isn’t always a pleasant feeling when you are warmblooded, but maybe that’s why she rarely sees any Octavinelle student without a jacket on?  
Azul’s office is the same as ever, clean down to the last dust speck on the nearly excessive bookshelves surrounding the whole room. The soft glow of the aquariums below offer a nice touch that she’s always enjoyed though, and finds it difficult to not relax when looking at them. 
 He sits at his desk with the strange fishbone pen scribbling over a softly glowing contract. The laptop, some type of the line model probably, almost stands out like a sore thumb amongst the antique designs.  
It better not be for me, she thinks.  
“Thank you Floyd,” Yuu mumbles as her feet finally touch the ground.  
“Ah, Shrimpy gonna be all grumpy now?” He teases, pulling at her cheek.  
“Floyd, please.” Azul says, almost smiling at her swatting hands doing absolutely nothing. “We have business to discuss.”  
“Yea, I never got a text yesterday, so it must not have been that important.” Yuu crosses her arms.  
“Oh, that’ll come later. I am far more interested in what this was. A unique magic perhaps?”  
He turns his laptop monitor to show the footage of her turning into glitter, her wide eyes the last thing to literally blink out of existence.  
“Even if I had a good idea what happened, I wouldn’t tell you. It was a fluke, I haven’t been able to do it since.” Half of it was true at least. She wasn’t able to recreate the distance, though it may be the desire just wasn’t strong enough.  
“Ah, no need to be coy.” Azul smiles, the polite one that makes her eye twitch. “If your magic base is expanding that’s something to celebrate! How about a drink and dessert, on the house of course.”  
“What do you want?” she asks bluntly. “Nothing comes for free with you.”  
“Prefect!” he places a hand on his chest, “Do you think me so low as to not celebrate my friend's accomplishments?”  
“Are we friends?” Yuu snaps, “I didn’t know that friends made each other homeless.”  
His mouth snaps shut with a click. A huff of air behind ear reminds her that Floyd is still behind her, not at his usual spot beside Azul’s desk. Making sure to guard the exit?  
“I-” Azul takes a deep breath, twirling the neck of the fishbone pen before carefully setting it inside the holder, putting a lid on the ink bottle. “I’ll admit, not my best moment.”  
He sighs, walking around to the front of the desk and leaning against the ledge.  
“Ms. Yuu, you clearly have an expanding magical core, which is wonderful. I congratulate you on effort and achievements. But it’s clearly powerful magic.” He adjusts his gloves, avoiding her eyes. “I, of all people, understand powerful magic without a medium to balance it out. We both know what it looks like when there are...no guidelines.” 
Azul was capable of his spell without the contracts. The contracts are what allowed him to keep his sanity and mind. His step father had been the one to teach him and help, the best gift he had ever received from him truly. But there was something addictive in the power, and to see Yuu overblot, even by accident? 
“I...I do apologize for my transgressions in the past.” Even Floyd raises his eyebrows at him. “I’ll admit that I did not think of the repercussions of my actions as I was self-assured in my own victory. And, at the time, it was the only thing that mattered.”  
There are some deals that you prevent from happening, for the sake of his own skin of course.  
“I have teachers that are helping me.” Yuu relents, “Though I understand your concerns better now. If, and it’s a big if, I need help, I will...actually consider your offer?” 
He laughs, something a little softer than his usual one. “Well, as a show of good faith.” He pulls out a small metal piece from his pocket, “Take this. A representation of our benevolence, guided by the Seawitch and her two beloved eels.” 
It’s a simple band, two dark eels wrapped around a small nautilus shell. It was in the style she preferred, something elegant but minimal. It didn’t look like a cheap tourist thing either, she could feel that the shell was smooth, thin but strong. It wouldn't shatter easily at least.  
“Are these actual eel scales?” she asks, feeling the bumpy texture.  
“Why yes!” he smiles, “I thought something handmade would be of preference. You do seem to prefer things of a more sentimental variety.”  
She huffs, raising her pant leg to wear it as an anklet instead.  
“Alright Azul, I’ll choose to forgive, but I won’t forget. Afterall, forgetting how powerful you are would just be stupid for me.”  
A surprised huff leaves him, but he allows her to leave at last. Jade meets her at the door before she can even turn the knob, Floyd staying behind.  
“Huh,” he mutters, “Went better than expected.” Floyd stretches his body out, small pops along his spine that wouldn’t be there in a human body. “You get what you needed out of it?”  
“Enough, though not all.” Azul nods. “We do need her to trust us, and if that means giving away a token to show good faith, it’ll be worth the small energy exchange.”  
“Also allows us to keep an eye on her.” Floyd adds, rubbing the small spot along his upper arm. They were eel scales. Specifically, theirs. Azul wouldn’t be able to see through her eyes the way he could with his or Jade’s, but with a sprinkle of their scales and a small sample of all three of their magics in the shell itself, they’d always be able to have a vague idea of where she was at least. With the way she was progressing in and out of class, she was becoming a threat.  
And the best way to neutralize a threat was to make them a friend.  
“It’s for her own good.” Azul goes to sit back down. He thinks it is for her good at least, and it’s not totally invasive. “Besides, I would like to know more about these teachers of hers. Perhaps they are looking for more students.”  
Floyd shakes his head, making sure that Azul has a drink before heading out himself. He can’t afford to fail this next test if he wants to stay in the advanced classes. At least the advanced classes aren’t as boring as the main ones, but damn if they don’t test his patience some days.  
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