#It's a word we made up to describe what we observe *in general*

[scentedluminarysoul]

Talked to a terf once who insisted, as they all do, that there are only two biological sexes, and everyone falls into either male or female, no exceptions

I said that, no, intersex people do exist, and it's not that simple

She insisted tsht intersex people can also clearly be categorized into either male or female

I spent some time explaining that that's simply not true, they're INTERSEX and it's not tsht simple. And besides, this line of thinking is what caused doctors to perform unnecessary surgeries on intersex children, to MAKE them look like they fit into one category or the other

And she. Said. That she was strictly against those surgeries, but sex is still binary and everyone can be out into male or female, no exceptions, it will be easy to tell

And I tried so hard and for so long to get her to understand that it's this MINDSET that spawned the IGM of intersex kids. Again and again she said surgeries bad, but intersex people are still only male or female

She wasn't hostile, she was stupid and unwilling to change her mind. The cognitive dissonance was insane

I gave up after hours of trying

Idk, sometimes terfs and other people, even leftists, live in some fantasy world where everyone is nice and nobody does harm and nobody would ever harm another and doctors are perfect and never do wrong and are never humans with their own opinions and bigotries

Must be nice. But sadly, reality is different

you only need to look at the way being intersex is often referred to by doctors and by TERFs to understand the damage the "sex is biological" rhetoric does

in case you're not familiar, the term I'm referring to specifically is DSD or Disorders of Sex Development

to someone who truly deeply believes that sex is natural, being intersex will always be disordered or defective. they insist on continuing to label us (intersex folk) as "men with DSD" or as "women with DSD" in order to reinforce the sex binary. they will not let intersex people be proof of the truly social nature of sex as a category, because they will not even see us as intersex. delete "sex is biological, gender is social" from your vocabulary. please and thank you

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene V: The Temporary Bliss)

Your fleeting moment of happiness is quickly overshadowed as old wounds from the past resurface.

Part warning: (18+) fingering, protected sex (because helping him roll down a condom is hot), and, unfortunately, angst Words: 4.8k A/n: so this is the last part of Act III: The Deception, you might want to prepare yourself as we get closer to the truth

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You were a coward. A fool. A mess. You didn’t know what to label yourself anymore, or if there were even words to describe the way you felt. But you did know one thing—you didn't have the strength to confront Spencer, you couldn't even see his face without feeling sick. So you did what you did best.

You avoided him. Plain and simple.

It was actually easier than you had expected. After that dreadful weekend, there seemed to be enough cases to distract you. You traveled across the state, one week in a new place, and another in a different city. By the end of the month, you hardly thought about him at all. Your friends seemed to be unaware of the underlying tension between you, and even if they did notice, they surprisingly kept their thoughts to themselves—everyone except Derek who teasingly pointed out that you seemed more focused on your work than usual.

You had shrugged off his comment with a forced laugh, brushing it off as if it was just a harmless observation. You told yourself that you were fine, that you had everything under control. But despite your efforts to stay distracted, the reality was different. The moment the plane landed back in Quantico, you knew you would have to face him again, especially when Emily suggested to hit the bar.

Her reason was to blow off steam after a gruesome few weeks, which was followed by a chorus of agreements from the team. Now you were left with no more excuses. Your eyes drifted toward him, his gaze slowly met yours, and that was how you found yourself in the same dingy, low-lit bar the team always gravitated to an hour later.

The familiar murmur of conversation and clinking of glasses greeted you as you entered the place. While the others settled to their usual spot in the corner, you quickly made a bee-line towards the bar. The bartender, a tall man with a slightly overgrown beard and sharp blue eyes, looked up as you approached.

He was cute, in a rugged, rough-around-the-edges kind of way. You would normally find yourself attracted to these types of men—confident, approachable, and with a certain easygoing charm. But apparently, your heart had other ideas, preferring a certain someone with a genius-level IQ with warm brown eyes.

“Hey, you're back," he greeted you, nodding his head. "Haven’t seen you in a while."

You leaned over the bar. "It's been a busy month."

"Where did you go off to this time?"

"Chicago."

He whistled softly. "Chicago, huh? Must have been a big one to send you all the way there." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “What did the bad guy do this time?”

You gave a small, secretive smile. "You know I can't talk about that. That's classified information."

The corner of his lips turned into a wide grin. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He picked up a glass and began wiping it down. “So, what’ll it be tonight? Your usual Margarita?”

You hesitated, shaking your head.

"Sex on the beach?"

Normally, you'd ask for either—you preferred something light and tangy, a drink that was strong enough to take the edge off without overwhelming you. But tonight was different. Tonight, you needed something with more kick.

“Give me a shot of tequila—no, make it two.”

A frown briefly crossed his face. “Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes,” you insisted. “I need something stronger tonight.”

The man studied your face for a moment before he nodded, pouring two generous shots in front of you. He turned to grab lime wedges from the small fridge under the counter but stopped abruptly when he noticed you’d already downed one of the shots.

"Wow, you weren't kidding.”

The strong liquor burned your throat. “That is disgusting.”

“That’s why you need this to chase it,” he said, sliding the lime wedge and a pinch of salt towards you. “Here.”

You purposely ignored him and brought the second glass to your lips, feeling the burn even before you swallowed.

“Here, take it.”

“No, I’m fine.” You pushed the now empty glass toward him, making a face. “Pour me another one.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on! I’m here with the gang!” You gestured toward the corner where the team was sitting. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

He hesitated, glancing over your shoulder and then back at you. “Fine, but this is the last one,” he said, reluctantly pouring another shot.

You gave him a quick nod, grabbing the shot and lifting it to your lips, steeling yourself for the burn. Just as you were about to drink, you felt a firm hand on your wrist. Your body tensed, not because of the sudden interruption, but because you felt another hand resting at your back before it slowly slid across, settling just at the soft curve of your waist.

You didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was. His smell was unmistakable—clean, with a hint of soap and the faintest trace of coffee.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

You watched as Spencer took the glass from your grip, settling it on the counter. Your brows knit together in confusion. “What are you doing?”

But instead of answering you, his eyes were focused intently on the bartender. “You shouldn’t have given her another glass.”

The bartender’s eyes widened slightly, and he held up his hands. “Hey, she asked for it.”

You nodded along. “To be fair, he did offer me Sex on the Beach.”

That didn’t seem to help. Spencer’s grip tightened on your waist, and you could feel him pulling you slightly closer to him. “That’s not funny. We need to get you some water.”

“Reid, it’s just two shots—”

He cut you off, turning back to the bartender. “Can she get a glass of water?”

The bartender nodded, quickly grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He handed it to Spencer, who then turned his attention back to you. “Drink this, please.”

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you protested.

He placed the glass in your hand. “Drink it.”

“Two shots,” you argued, finally facing him. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve drunk a lot worse than this.”

“I'm aware.”

“Then why does it bother you so much?”

He went quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting between you, the glass of water, then back to you.

“Because I don’t like being the reason you’re drinking something you hate in the first place.”

You quickly downed the cool water. How could you even answer that? Your skin suddenly felt hot, and your palms grew clammy as he kept his hand on your waist. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“It’s not because of you,” you said, shrugging as you set the glass down.

"Isn't it, though? Why else would you be reacting this way?"

“Maybe I just like tequila now. Did you ever think of that?”

“You hate tequila," he replied as if it was common knowledge.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve developed a taste for it.”

“So you’ve suddenly decided you like something you’ve been avoiding for years?”

“Maybe I’m trying new things,” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Maybe you should try it too.”

There was a moment of silence as he considered your words. "I am trying new things."

You felt him tug you slightly, letting your body fall against his. Your heart sped up as you stared up at him. Even in the dim light of the bar, his brown eyes seemed to catch the faint glow, looking lighter and more intense than usual. You watched as his gaze drifted slowly to your lips.

"Reid..."

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

His expression softened as he looked back at you, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. "I'm trying to play the perfect boyfriend."

"So this is all an act?"

This was it, the moment of truth, the point where everything could change. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “No,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your hip.

Your hand fell to his chest, fingers pressing lightly to feel the rapid beat of his heart. It was pounding, just as fast as yours.

"Spencer..."

He let out a sigh—a sound that seemed to carry both relief and a touch of disbelief as it left his lips. "I thought I'd never hear you call me that again."

He was right. Ever since you drifted apart, calling him Reid felt safer, like a barrier that kept things distant and professional. Spencer was too personal, too intimate for the walls you had built around yourself. But now, standing so close, it felt like the past and present were colliding, making everything more confusing.

Your finger played with the knot of his tie, absentmindedly tracing the pattern. "You're making this more complicated."

He nodded. "I know."

"We're supposed to break this off."

"I know."

"We're supposed to stick to the plan."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling for a moment before replying, “If that's what you want, then we'll go through it. But...”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "But what?"

"But I need to know if it’s really what you want." His voice faltered slightly. "If you want me to leave, I will."

His question hung in the air like a thick fog, making it hard for you to think clearly. It was a simple choice, wasn't it? Stick to the plan, keep up the fake dating, and finally break it off. No mess, no complications. But why, then, did the thought of him leaving feel like a heavy weight in your chest?

You caught him nervously trailing his bottom lip with his tongue—a habit of his when he was deep in thought. The simple gesture made you feel an unexpected pull, and before you knew it, you found yourself pressing closer to him.

“Spence,” you murmured. “You’re making this really hard.”

“I don’t want to make it hard,” he said quietly. “I-I just I need to know where we stand.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. The words felt heavy on your tongue, but you knew you needed to say them.

"I want you to leave," you started, watching as his expression shifted, a hint of pain flickering in his eyes as he slowly pulled away. But before he could step back, you tugged on his tie, pulling him back towards you. "But I'm leaving with you."

His eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"

And suddenly, a wave of embarrassment washed over you, and you looked away. "What I'm trying to say is... that—well..."

"Well?"

Your gaze focused somewhere beyond his shoulder, finding it easier to speak without meeting his eyes. "I want to finish what we started that morning."

He blinked, processing your words. "You mean... when we..."

"Yeah."

You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Oh." He leaned in slightly, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. "How drunk are you right now?"

You couldn't help but let a laugh escape your lips, finally looking back at him. "I had two shots!"

His expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You know what this means, right?"

"What?"

"If we…" He trailed off, clearing his throat before continuing, "If we do this, it'll change everything."

You smoothed down his shirt, your fingers lingering on the fabric. "I know."

"And you still want that?"

"I do."

He took a deep breath, searching your eyes for any hesitation. "And you want to leave... right now?"

"Look, if you don't want to—"

He quickly cut you off, shaking his head with a slight, nervous chuckle. “No, I do. I just… I want to make sure you do too.”

"I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't mean it."

His eyes softened. “You’re right,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile that looked almost like a grimace. “Okay. Okay. We’re doing this.”

Seeing him easily flustered was always amusing for you, and this time was no different. "Come on," you urged him, taking his hand in yours. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait, shouldn't we tell them we're leaving?"

You glanced back at your friends. "And tell them what? That we're going to have sex?"

He almost tripped over his own feet. "Well, when you put it that way…"

You squeezed his hand and flashed him a smile over your shoulder as you started toward the exit. With a quick, eager step, he followed behind.

Spencer’s apartment was just as you remembered—deep green walls, warm lighting, bookshelves lining every corner. But you barely had a moment to register your surroundings before he had his face buried in your neck.

His lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as his mouth trailed a wet path down your throat, and you had to push against his chest slightly because he was pressing you too hard against the door. For a man who spent most of his time buried in books, he seemed to have an unexpected strength that took you by surprise.

“Hey, hey,” you murmured, a soft giggle escaping as you tilted your head to look at him. “Slow down.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes before leaning down again, his hands coming up to cup your face as he kissed you.

His lips were hot against yours, moving with an eager, almost desperate need. He sucked gently on your lower lip, pulling it into his mouth before releasing it with a soft, audible pop. The sudden absence of his mouth left your skin tingling, only to be followed by the gentle graze of his teeth, a playful nip that made you gasp and clutch his shirt tighter.

You felt lightheaded, melting under his touch as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open. You let him in willingly, your tongue meeting his eagerly. The sensation left you feeling hot and dizzy, your entire body craving for more of his taste. It was as if his kiss was an intoxicating drug, leaving you utterly addicted. Even when he pulled away slightly to catch his breath, you grabbed him again, pressing your lips firmly against his.

Spencer sighed with pleasure as he held the back of your head, his fingers splaying against your scalp. You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, lost in the way his lips moved against yours, but the instant you felt his growing bulge brush your hip, you gently pushed him away.

A thin, glistening string of saliva followed you, and you reached up to wipe it from his mouth with a quick, almost embarrassed swipe. His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked down at you, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Sorry, I-I got carried away," he mumbled, letting his hand trail down your spine. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. "You thought I pushed you away because I want us to stop?"

"Uh... maybe? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, Spencer," you said softly, reaching up to loosen the knot of his tie. "I pushed you away because I need you to take me to your bed."

He watched intently as you pulled off his tie, and when you pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, his hands fell to his sides.

"Are you going to watch me undress you, or are you going to help?"

A slow smile spread across his face as he shrugged off the jacket completely, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. "I think I can manage that."

He started to unbutton his shirt, his fingers brushing against yours. The moment the last button was undone, he let the shirt fall to the floor with a soft rustle. Your palm glided over his chest as you took in his bare skin. You expected his body to be lean—he had long limbs, after all—but you didn't expect the subtle, defined muscles beneath your touch.

"Spencer, have you been working out?"

You could tell he was embarrassed by the way he shifted his gaze from you. "Morgan convinced me to stay in shape," he admitted with a shy smile. "He insists it's part of the job."

You plant a kiss right above his heart. "Well, it's definitely working."

The warmth of your lips seemed to ease his embarrassment, and he let out a soft sigh, his hands coming up to caress your back. You glanced up at him again. "Will you take me to your bed now?"

He quickly nodded and guided you towards his bedroom. Once inside, you pushed him down onto the edge of his bed. His hands roamed across your body as you slipped between his legs, slowly unbuttoning your blouse. The front of the fabric fell away and his gaze followed every movement, his hands eagerly helping you slide it off your shoulders.

Your bra came off next, the straps sliding down your arms as you tossed it aside. His eyes swept over you with admiration as he licked his lips, his gaze lingering on the exposed curve of your body. He pulled you closer, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

When he wrapped his lips around your nipple, a sharp, electrifying pleasure shot through you. His tongue flicked and teased, alternating between gentle suckles and soft nibbles that made you gasp and arch into his touch. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him to you as he continued his ministrations, moving from one breast to the other.

The hand on your back slid lower, his fingers finding the waistband of your pants. You felt him unbutton them, the fabric loosening around your hips. With a firm but gentle tug, he slipped your pants down your legs, followed closely by your panties, until both garments pooled around your feet.

His hand began running up your leg, fingers slipping between your thighs. He let go of your nipple and looked up at you with those brown eyes that seemed to gleam under the light. “Can I touch you?”

You brushed his hair back gently from his forehead. “You’ve touched me before.”

“I want to hear you say it.” 

You felt his fingertips brush so lightly over your clit and you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out, “You can touch me.”

All you could do was sigh as his fingers moved again. He was so gentle, so careful, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, spreading your arousal with each teasing stroke. His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features, drinking in the way your lips parted and your breath hitched with each touch.

"Th—That feels good," you cooed, your eyes fluttering low but not completely shut, wanting to see him as he worked over you. He followed your gaze where his fingers continued their exploration, gently pulling back the soft flesh to expose your clit. He traced light, feathery strokes over the sensitive skin and the motion left your legs shaking, nearly losing balance if he weren't holding you against him.

He grabbed the back of your thigh. “Put your leg up here.”

You complied and rested your feet on the bed, giving more access. The new position allowed him to press his fingers more deeply against your clit, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm. You were trembling, mind numb from the way he was touching you, and you almost couldn’t take it when he dipped his middle finger inside your cunt.

"God, Spencer,” you gasped, dropping a hand to the wrist that was nestled between your legs, nails digging into his skin. He slipped another finger inside you, and your eyes screwed shut this time. You could feel his fingers curling inside you, seeking, then finding, the tender spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

Everything became a blur after that. His fingers continued to thrust into you, and with each movement, you grew wetter, the slick sounds of your arousal echoing throughout his room. You clung to his shoulders for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he pressed soft kisses across your chest. His thumb then brushed against your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure in gentle circles.

"I'm…” Your eyes fluttered open when his mouth latched onto your hard nipple. “I'm gonna come... if you... keep doing that..." 

You weren't even sure why you were warning him, but you couldn’t stop yourself as your hips rolled against his hands. His thumb circled your clit faster in response, and the world around you began to spin. You gasped his name, the sound escaping your lips in a desperate, breathless moan.

When his teeth softly grazed your sensitive nipple, you finally snapped. Wave after wave of orgasm bliss rolled through your body, the pulse of pleasure sending your thighs trembling as he held you through all of it. It's all too much, too intense, and you were left completely spent, shaking, breathless, and needing to lay down immediately.

Spencer caught you as you collapsed on top of him, the force of your weight pushing him onto his back. You stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly against his. But it didn't last long when you felt his bulge press right between your thighs. Without thinking, you found yourself rolling your hips.

He let out a sharp gasp, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you moved against him. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness of his erection pressing against you through the fabric of his pants as your face hovered above his, lips barely touching.

"So when are you going to fuck me?"

He bucked his hips against you. "I-I... I have a condom in my drawer."

His words made you falter. Why does he have a condom?

It was stupid, really, you knew why contraception was necessary. But the thought of him having an active sexual life with someone else after you had drifted apart stung deeply. It wasn’t technically your business, but knowing that he might have been with others hurt, especially when the last man you had been close to was him.

"Spence... why do you have a condom?"

You hated how small your voice sounded.

He gently brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours as he weighed his words before letting out a sigh. "After… after that night, when we—almost… I just wanted to be prepared. I didn't know if… if we'd ever…"

You slowly relaxed. "So you haven't used any?"

He shook his head. "No, I haven't."

Your heart swelled at his words. You leaned in and kissed him softly, a sudden rush of affection washing over you. "Well, I think it's time we put it to use," you whispered against his lips, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Where did you put it?"

"Bottom drawer, on the left."

You pulled away to reach over to his drawer, hearing the sound of his belt buckle unlatching behind you. Your eyes briefly flashed towards the book sitting on the nightstand, a glimpse of its cover catching your attention. But you didn’t dwell on it, you were too focused on rummaging through his things until your fingers brushed against the familiar texture of the wrapper.

He was completely naked as you turned to face him again, your eyes catching his cock resting perfectly against his stomach as he leaned back against the pillows. You crawled over to him and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his bulging tip.

He let out a sharp hiss. "I-I don't think I can last long if you do that."

You smiled and straightened yourself, your fingers delicately tearing open the wrapper. You could feel his eyes on you, half-lidded with desire, his focus narrowing to the way your fingers brushed against his skin. His body tensed, and his breathing grew heavier, as you slowly slid the condom down his length.

The thin latex felt almost invisible under your fingertips, allowing the heat radiating from his body to seep through. He couldn't take his eyes off you, mesmerized by the way your fingers glided over him so effortlessly. Your touch was firm yet gentle, and when you finally reached the base, you gave him a final, possessive squeeze.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hands finding your hips as you positioned yourself over him. You hovered above his tip, teasingly brushing it against your entrance before slowly sinking down. You paused halfway, adjusting to his size, feeling lightheaded as he stretched you regardless of how wet you were. It was overwhelming, but the numbness was exactly the kind of rush you were seeking.

And finally, with a deep breath, you let gravity pull you down, taking him all the way in.

You both gasped at the sensation, the intense fullness causing your muscles to clench around him. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he steadied you. Then, slowly, you began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down.

Your breaths synchronized, shallow and quick, as you found a steady rhythm. Spencer’s hands guided you, his palms pressing firmly on your hips before trailing back to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You held onto his jaw as you leaned in, your lips meeting in a heated, breathless kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth and your brain turned to mush.

He kissed you hungrily while your hips continued to rise and fall, each movement driving him deeper inside you. You felt his hands roam your body, one sliding up your back to pull you closer, while the other remained on your ass, encouraging you. You moaned into his mouth, the sensation of his lips and his cock brushing your tight, inner walls making you tremble with pleasure.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his. "S-Spence..."

He nipped at your bottom lip, casually biting and pulling it between his teeth. "Mhm?"

You didn’t know why you had called out his name, only that you needed to. It was more of a reflex than anything else, a desperate need to connect as your pace quickened. He let out a low, throaty sound of pleasure as your walls clenched around him. And that was when you heard your name on his lips. It was soft, but it was enough to drive you to the edge. You rolled your hips urgently, trying to chase that familiar, blissful sensation but your thighs started to burn, your movements slowing down a little. He sensed your struggle and tightened his hands on your waist.

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips bucking up to meet yours with force. His thrusts suddenly became more relentless, each powerful push driving him deeper inside you. The slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt filled the air, the squelch of your joined body punctuating with each thrust.

The pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it was all-consuming. Finally, with one last, powerful thrust, you were both pushed over the edge. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm at the same time he spilled into you. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut as your fingers dug into his shoulders, riding out every wave of your climax.

It took a few more minutes before you felt his body relax. You did the same, collapsing on top of him as he is hands softened their grip on you, gently caressing your back.

"Are you… okay?" You simply nodded, too tired to find your own voice. His thumb brushed your side. “Are you sure?”

You nodded again, snuggling yourself closer, feeling the weight of your body pressing down on him. He kissed the top of your head.

“I know you’re making yourself comfortable, but I really need to go to the bathroom.”

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes. “Would it bother you if I peed at the same time you clean yourself?”

The smile that spread across his face lit up his features. “Of course not.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his chest before reluctantly rolling off him. Spencer slid off the bed and reached for your hand, helping you up. You both moved to the bathroom, where Spencer headed for the sink to wash up while you made your way to the toilet.

As you sat there, you thought about how surprisingly natural this felt—almost as if you had done this before. The way he naturally kissed your cheek before exiting the bathroom didn’t feel awkward or out of place, it was oddly comforting. When you finally finished, he was already waiting for you in comfortable clothes. He stretched out his hand, and when you took it, he pulled you close. “Are you hungry?”

You found yourself nodding. “I could eat something.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll make us some sandwiches, I think I have enough stuff in the fridge,” he suggested, and then added somewhat sheepishly, “I also, um, put some fresh clothes out for you to use. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart might burst at how adorable he was. “Thank you, Spence. That’s really sweet.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before heading to the kitchen. You picked up the clothes he had laid out for you—a soft t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, but as you held them, your gaze drifted back to the book sitting on his nightstand. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked up the book, studying the cover.

The Narrative of John Smith.

You opened it, noticing the handwritten quote on the first page.

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone, we find it with another.” —Thomas Merton—

A sudden feeling of nausea hit you, as if you’d been punched in the gut. You flipped through the pages, trying to steady your breathing. It wasn’t the softness of the paper that greeted you as you slipped onto the next page, but the sharp edges of something hard brushing against your fingertips. You carefully pulled out what seemed to be a photograph, your heart sinking as you realized whose it was… Because right in your hand, Maeve was smiling back at you.

Maeve.

Maeve. Donovan.

Everything suddenly came crashing back, the past shooting straight to your heart. The memories, the pain, the confusion—it all flooded your mind in an instant. You remembered why you and Spencer had drifted apart, why that night had changed everything. The woman staring back at you was the reason you had shut yourself off from him in the first place.

No, it wasn’t all her fault—you’d be a heartless fool to blame a dead woman for something she couldn’t control. But she had consumed his mind. The presence she held in his life was enough to end the friendship you once had. And now, holding the photograph, you felt an overwhelming tightness in your chest that made it hard to breathe. The walls seemed to close in, the room feeling too small.

You needed to get out of here.

You quickly pulled on your clothes, the fabric feeling suffocating as you hurriedly dressed. Your movements were frantic, driven by a need to escape. You dashed out of his room, but Spencer was already standing by the bedroom door.

"I was just about to call you, the food is—hey, what's wrong?"

You walked past him, the pain constricting your chest so tightly that you could barely breathe, let alone speak. “I… I need to go,” you stammered out over your shoulder.

Spencer's face fell as he saw the distress in your eyes, his hands reaching out to stop you as you headed for the front door. He turned you to face him, and the moment he saw the tears threatening to spill, his own expression crumpled in worry.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his hands gently cupping your face. You flinched and shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

You noticed the hurt in his eyes, but you barely looked at him, trying to control your own emotions. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion. You felt the lingering warmth from the post-orgasmic rush, the serotonin still buzzing in your veins, but at the same time, the gut-wrenching pain was consuming you. The fleeting sensation you’d felt moments ago seemed like a cruel mockery now, as your heart twisted with every beat.

“You’re really leaving?”

You slowly nodded, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Just like that, after tonight?”

You remained silent, your mouth shut tight. Then you heard him mutter something under his breath, barely audible but unmistakable.

“That’s what you always do, isn’t it?”

Your eyes snapped to him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

There was a heavy silence, a beat of rising tension as his eyes narrowed at you. “You run away when things get hard.”

You stared back at him in surprise. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Yes,” he said sharply. “Every time we get to a point where we might actually resolve something, you disappear.”

Was that really how he saw you? Someone who ran away at the first sign of trouble? The thought was a bitter pill, one that left a heavy, sour taste in your mouth.

“That’s not fair,” you protested, shaking your head as you felt the sting of tears at the corner of your eyes.

“Well, you know what’s not fair?” His voice suddenly turned a pitch higher, each word cutting through the air. “Pulling me into this—this whole fake relationship thing and then running away when it starts to mean something real.”

“What?” The accusation stung, a sharp jab to your already fragile heart. “You think this was easy for me? You think I didn’t have doubts?”

"I think you dragged me into this and now you’re scared because it’s not just a game anymore," he pressed, his eyes flashing with frustration as he stepped closer. “Every time l show that l actually care, you run away.”

“I don’t run away.”

“Yes, you do. You always bail on me,” he argued, his tone growing sharper with each word. “Just like that morning, just like now, and just like that night—”

You finally had enough.

"Don’t you dare bring that up!” You snapped. “You don’t get to use that against me. You know exactly why I had to leave!”

Spencer flinched as if he was struck. The impact of your words hit him hard, and you could see the hurt and realization dawning in his eyes. His posture sagged, the tension in his shoulders melting away as the anger drained from his face. “I know, I know,” he whispered, the regret clear in his voice. “I-I’m sorry.”

Your heart ached, the pain of old wounds reopening. The memories of that night, the way you felt invisible and helpless—it all came crashing back. You shook your head, taking a step back, needing to put distance between you. “No, I can’t do this right now.”

You turned away, desperate to escape. The walls felt like they were closing in, your chest tightening with every breath.

“Wait,” he called after you. “I’m sorry. Please… I don’t… stay, please.”

You paused slightly, but you couldn’t let yourself give in. Not when every painful memory from that night seemed to claw its way back to the surface. Not when the fear of getting hurt again loomed so large. Not when you knew if you turned back now, you might never find the strength to walk away again.

“We should end this whole thing,” you said quietly, each word feeling like a knife twisting in your heart. “I’ll tell Hotch first thing in the morning.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. The reality of what you had said sank in, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had frozen. His face fell, a look of utter devastation crossed his features as his eyes searched yours, trying to grasp at the fragments of what was left. He opened his mouth to speak, but you couldn’t bear to face him any longer.

You slowly reached for the door, wrenching it open before stepping into the cold night. You left him standing there, watching helplessly as you walked away for what felt like the hundredth time.

[ghostycritter]

Observing ☆

Context - Eyes don't lie. Certainly not theirs. Here, we unravel what's behind them. Eyes are the window to the soul after all. So how would their glances and glares feel?

Characters - Jing Yuan,Blade, Dr Ratio, Gepard, Aventurine

Warnings - none

A/N - first writing.

Masterlist (✧) HSR Masterlist

[景元] Jing Yuan -

Being under the general’s glare felt like a small stroke of lightning anytime his eyes fell on you.

The shock was gentle though. A shock that made you feel alive—a shock that kicked off your heartrate to rapid speeds. His eyes would always leave your heart pounding from how gentle his glances were.

It was almost comforting in a way. You always feel your cheeks flush every time. No matter how used to it you get, you can never comprehend the warm emotion that simmers deep within your heart.

On his end, his attention is always directed towards those who have caught his attention. Birds, Starskriffs, and maybe… You?

You, being the most memorable moment of his day.

Jing Yuan carries recollections of many amber eras. Everyday, he doesn’t notice himself getting older, however, days to him are desaturated in speciality. All he acknowledges is his duty as general.

But ever since you, everyday was like a blessing. He wished that days would travel at a hindered pace, just so he could look at your person again. Though conversation was rare, those glimpses at you were without a doubt the highlight of his days.

As you passed by him, you found his head following your direction. You lifted your hand to give the general a wave.

“Pleasant to see you [name].” That was relieving to say.

[刃] Blade -

He doesn’t know why he does it. He doesn’t feel like this, he never does.

But why does he keep looking back? Looking again, and again?

Blade has never reached out for an answer why, he’d much rather not ask. He’d just stare, like always.

Blade’s stares are cold. Your spine would go erect anytime you feel him eyeballing you.

You weren’t scared of course—there’s no act of maliciousness behind his crimson eyes. But rather, the word to describe your feeling would be intimidation.

Fear doesn’t overcome you, but his glare was so intense. It felt like a piercing blow to the chest. You had no complaints, because he would always look away when you catch him staring.

But you always know from your peripheral, that Blade’s eyes never abandon you as long as you don’t reciprocate the act. Maybe one day, his eyes would meet yours.

Blade crosses his arms, his mighty sword tightly gripped within the confinements of his fists. His head tilted downwards, it’s not like he has much to see anyways. His surroundings were deafening, he only observed his own being. How he can breathe when he takes up a flush of air with his nose. It’s like living.

But nothing comes close to ever making him feel more alive than being observant. Observing you.

Just a few system hours ago, he found himself looking… again. It’s always you. Never Kafka, Silverwolf, Firefly, or even Elio can drag his irises along like you do.

“Blade, time to go,” He heard Silverwolf call for him.

He must’ve been too submerged in his thoughts.

[真理医生] Dr Ratio -

Veritas Ratio was a piece of work. Brimming with knowledge and practically unparalleled in academics. So how come he catches himself eyeing you?

He doesn’t have time for such trivial matters; the doctor has more crucial things to focus on

However, it always comes back to you. He doesn’t even realise, but when he does, he internally scolds himself.

How his maroon eyes would stalk you, absorbing every miniscule detail about you. Any differences from the day before, he’d notice.

Oh, you’re missing that accessory you’d usually wear. Your facial features seemed more captivating today. In fact it seems that way now since he’s finally paying attention.

To you, the doctor’s stares were strict. It made you feel tingly, making you stiffen your spine on instinct or even walking differently. It’s as if you were being inspected thoroughly.

Another exhausting day finally came to an end. His usual routine, finding himself in front of his large bathtub. He stripped himself of his clothing and immersed himself in the waters beneath him. He let out a small sigh, he needed this.

Veritas was deep in thought. He simmered in the warm water, he thought about you. He remembered how you dressed today, but it seems as though you look more exceptional everyday.

Observing you became somewhat of a cycle he has gotten used to, taking mental notes after every look. But obviously it didn’t matter to him, it’s all a part of his nature to inspect things after all—or atleast, that’s what he tells himself.

[杰帕德] Gepard -

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards, a title he upholds dearly. Never once he lets his emotions get to him, staining his reputation when it comes to the military.

However, recently, some of his comrades have noticed Gepard covering less ground when it comes to patrolling.

He was always told to not overthink, to stay true to himself, but he never realised how often his gaze lingers on you.

His glances were quick when you’re aware, however, whenever you turn your back to him, his eyes linger a little longer. He looks at you with so much admiration, it’s innocent, he would question why, but all those inquiries would be muted by the sensation of adoration.

Gepard’s glare would boil a proud sensation in you. You notice how he looks, he isn’t very experienced in hiding it. You find it amusing the captain would find you so tranquil that he would pay more attention to you than patrolling.

Gepard stood firm and tall as he walked around the city. He found an abundance of citizens moving around town. He’s glad that the stellaron crisis was over, it made his job a bit easier with the fragmentum.

In the density of the crowd, with every person roaming and going on with their lives, he found you.

You caught his eye again.

How does this keep happening? He froze. The sight of you alone kept his heart rate surging, it was abnormal. His lips parted and slowly cracked into a subtle smile.

It’s good to see you today.

[砂金] Aventurine -

Nobody would ever expect the lucky risk taker of the IPC to have so much interest in someone else.

Usually, his ordeals would leave him to abandon the other party. Although his interest in you appears to be a wonderful exception from all others.

He had always had a keen eye for people. Most people being those deemed as ‘business’ to him. Subsequently, he finds you intriguing, but not in a professional way. Rather he took his own interest to you.

His unique eyes were sharp and enthralling, leaving anybody on edge when he peered, especially with his lips curved into a wide smile. He can’t blame himself, you were so entertaining.

Every little action that you’d commit would be under watch of Aventurine. Those contrasting eyes with his dark, sharp pupils made movement impossible to follow. It’d make you freeze, stumble, and stupefy anytime you’d catch him eyeing you.

He doesn’t hide it either, he isn’t ashamed. Why would he be?

Business has been accomplished, another risky negotiation in favour of him. With that success out of the way, he can finally rest with that achievement in mind.

He wonders, will he ever feel so obliged to watch over someone again? Was it out of concern? Interest? Or something more? He watches as you stand there, minding your own business. His irises locked onto your person. His smile grew a bit wider, he felt amused. It’s ridiculous how you can conquer his attention with leisure, he almost felt sorry for himself for being so helpless, but that would be impossible.

Regardless, having you under his vision was enough for him, he doesn’t expect you to take the time to notice it, rather that would be a miracle.

[dixons-sunshine]

Scooby Snacks with your Whiskey | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: One night when you couldn't sleep, you decided to join Daryl in the guard tower and keep him company. During a game of truth or drink, Daryl unknowingly insulted your favourite childhood cartoon, which resulted in playful arguments, accidentally shattered whiskey bottles and confessions.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Prison, post season 3, pre season 4

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, sexual innuendos but nothing major.

Word count: 3.7k

A/n: This is based off of what Daryl told Beth in s4 episode 12 right before they set the cabin on fire. He was talking about a cartoon about a talking dog, and my mind instantly went to Scooby Doo, and so this fic was born. It's not really good, since I'm still trying to get into the writing momentum, but I hope you enjoy!

Also, my requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

—

"Hey. Would you mind some company?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl turned around. He hummed and nodded for you to come closer, to which you complied. You stood beside him in silence, quietly observing the walkers at the fences. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was stealing glances at you, his hands fidgeting with his crossbow string.

His heart fluttered at the sight of you, a regular thing that happened whenever he was in your general area. You looked up at him with that smile that always made butterflies fly around in his stomach and your eyes always seemed to sparkle brighter than the stars in the night sky, and although Daryl liked the quiet away from everyone, you were one of his only exceptions.

Daryl loved hearing you talk. He loved listening to you talk about your life before and although he wouldn't admit it, he was always captivated by the bedtime stories you told little Judith. The way you changed your voice to match the emotion of the part you were telling, even though Judith didn't understand anyway and would react the same regardless, was enchanting to him. He would listen to you talk for hours if he could.

And above all, he loved your caring yet badass nature. The way you would take down walkers with a skilled ease, and then in the same breath turn to him and check him for any injuries with a concerned look on your face made him feel drawn to you. You actually cared about him, in a way nobody ever had. Daryl didn't believe that anything was perfect, but you were the closest thing to perfect there was.

It also didn't help that you were absolutely breathtaking to him. From the beautiful colour of your eyes to your perfectly plump lips that he's wanted to kiss on more occasions than one. Daryl couldn't define how he felt about you because he never felt this way about anyone before, but he knew his feelings for you ran deeper than what could be described as platonic. And that fact scared him.

A soft sigh from you snapped Daryl from his thoughts. He looked over at you and noticed that you seemed to be deep in thought, a small frown on your face as you kept your eyes trailed on the ground below.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Daryl prompted, instantly gaining your attention. Your eyes trailed over to him and his heart skipped a beat at the smile you gave him.

"Just thinking," you responded nonchalantly, shaking your head in dismissal. You pushed away from the railing you were leaning over and turned your body fully to look at Daryl.

Daryl hummed softly, his eyes trailing over you before shifting back to look at the fences. "Ya wanna talk 'bout it?" He questioned.

"It's stupid."

"Ain't stupid if it's botherin' ya," he retorted, turning his body to fully face you as well.

You sighed before shaking your head. "It's just... I'm thinking about my mom. The last thing we did before all of this was fight over something stupid and now..." You trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward under the archer's stare.

"Ya think she didn't make it?" He finished for you, giving you a knowing look.

"I know she didn't make it. She was diagnosed with cancer about two weeks before all of this started, and there aren't exactly doctors around who could've helped her," you responded, awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers.

"'M sorry to hear tha'. This world jus' ain't meant for people with sicknesses like tha'," Daryl said, and mentally kicked himself for saying that. There you were, confiding in him over something serious and that's the best he could come up with? He felt like a perfect fool.

However, instead of being angry at him, you looked at him with a small smile, much to his surprise. "Yeah," you started. "I just hope that she didn't suffer. She was a good woman."

"Were ya close?" Daryl asked, his blue eyes meeting your beautiful ones. He hoped that he wasn't prying, but he wanted to know more about you, the woman who haunted his thoughts 24/7.

You nodded. "We were."

"Ya make a lot of good memories with her?"

You laughed lightly, surprising the archer. "What is this, 20 questions?"

Daryl frowned. "What?"

"20 questions," you repeated, noting that your repetition didn't spark recognition in the archer's eyes. "It's a game you play with your friends at parties, sleepovers, you name it. You all take turns asking each other any questions you want."

"Never heard of it," Daryl said, shrugging his shoulders. He felt awkward under your intense stare, your eyes widened with surprise.

You softly gasped in surprise. Then, an idea struck you. "Wait here."

"It's my shift," he stated matter-of-factly. "Ain't goin' nowhere until dawn."

"Perfect."

With one last look at Daryl, you climbed down from the guard tower, excitedly rushing into the cellblock and into your cell. You bent down in front of your bed and retrieved what you were looking for; a bottle of whiskey you found on a run. With a renewed excitement, you gripped the bottle tightly and headed back up to the guard tower, finding Daryl waiting patiently.

Daryl glanced at the bottle in your hand and looked at you questioningly. "Where'd ya find tha'?" He asked, watching you approach with a slight smile on his face. He could practically see your excitement, the big smile on your face infectious.

"On a run a couple of weeks ago. I've been waiting for the right moment to open it, and the right moment has now presented itself," you said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and motioning for Daryl to do the same.

"How so?" He questioned, following your lead by sitting down on the ground in front of you. He kept his eyes trailed on you, watching your every move.

"Well, I was gonna suggest we play 20 questions, but I don't wanna force you into answering a question you don't want to, so we're gonna play truth or drink instead. We ask questions back and forth, and if we don't wanna answer the question that was asked, we drink. It's as simple as that."

"And I dun' got any say in if I wanna play or not?" Daryl asked, a small, teasing smile on his face. His smile turned into something more genuine when you let out a light laugh.

"Nope!" You laughed, opening the bottle and placing it in between the two of you. "You wanna start?"

Daryl hesitated, pursing his lips. "I dun' know wha' to ask."

"Anything. There are no wrong questions," you reassured him, leaning back on the palm of your hands.

"Alrigh'," he drawled, unsure of himself. "Wha' was yer favourite movie before all of this?"

"There you go," you praised him with a smile, making Daryl duck his head as heat flushed his face. "To be honest, I don't really know. I watched a lot of movies, so I don't think I can narrow it down to one. But I have a couple of favourites. The Breakfast Club and Back to the Future are two of them."

Daryl nodded, absentmindedly chewing on his thumbnail. "Now 's yer turn, righ'?" He questioned.

"Yeah," you confirmed. After a couple of beats of silence, you voiced your question. "Who was your first kiss?"

Daryl shifted awkwardly, embarrassment filling his body. "I honestly dun' remember her name. It was some girl in a dive bar Merle used to drag me to. She was drunk and I was helpin' her to her car when she turned around and kissed me."

"How old were you?" You asked, genuinely interested. Daryl rarely talked about his past, so when he did, you ingrained every piece of what he said into your mind.

"Nah, 's my turn to ask the questions. Wait yer turn," he joked, eliciting a laugh from you.

"Touché, Dixon, touché. Ask away."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, a habit you noticed he unknowingly did whenever he was thinking. You found it absolutely endearing, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised that you found most things about the archer endearing. The way he fiddled with his bolts whenever he was bored, the way he flicked his hair out of his face with the shake of his head, his small smile—you could go on a rant about his smile, and you have before. Michonne happened to be the victim who was forced to listen to your lovesick rambling in the car on your way back from the same run you'd gotten the whiskey from.

Begrudgingly snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you patiently waited for Daryl to continue the game. Feeling your stare on him, he asked the first thing that popped to mind, and instantly wished he didn't.

"Who was yer first sex partner?"

A nervous laugh bubbled out of you, heat creeping up your cheeks at a rapid pace. Daryl felt his own face flush, feeling stupid for asking the question.

"Sorry. Ya dun' have to answer tha'," he apologised, his eyes darting to the floor.

"No, it's okay. Like I said, no wrong questions. Besides, if I don't answer, I have to drink," you said, trying to compose yourself. You took a deep breath. Of all the things you thought you'd be doing tonight, you didn't think you'd be discussing who your first intimate partner was with the guy you had feelings for. "My highschool boyfriend, senior year."

Daryl nodded and left it at that. He leaned back on his hands, watching you carefully. He was surprised that you'd actually answered the question, given the personal privacy boundaries he pushed. He silently promised himself that whatever personal question you asked him, he would answer.

"What's the most petty fight you've ever gotten into because of Merle?" you questioned, looking at him expectantly.

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking hard about his answer. "It was with this one guy. He was Merle's dealer. He was a small, janky white guy. We were over at his house one day, jus' loungin' around and watchin' TV, some stupid kids show playin'. It was barely noon, we were all wasted and Merle was high. Merle decided to take a piss outta the show, and when he started, he wouldn't let up. He never could when he was high."

Daryl stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts while your gaze remained fixated on him. You seemed genuinely interested in the story, your eyes sparkling with wonder. Your lips were slightly parted and it took everything in Daryl not to act on his urge to kiss your pretty lips.

"It turns out, the cartoon was the guy's favourite show, and he got hella pissed 'bout it. 'M pretty sure Merle didn't know it was the guy's favourite show. I mean, he never saw the guy except when he needed somethin', but tha' didn't matter. The guy punched Merle in the face, and tha's when I got into the fight. 'M on this guy and 'm punchin' him as hard as I can, but then the guy pulls a gun on me, sticks it righ' against my head and threatens to shoot me."

"Oh, god," you murmured, slightly horrified.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, seemingly unfazed at your reaction. "Tha's when Merle pulls out his gun and points it at the guy. At this point, everyone's yellin', I'm yellin'... I thought I was gonna die tha' day."

"How'd you get out of it?" You asked, bringing your knees up to rest your head on them.

"I didn't. The guy ended up punchin' me in the gut and I puked on the floor. They both started laughin' at me and everythin' was magically over," Daryl said, shaking his head at the memory. "And to think that happened over some dumbass cartoon about a talkin' dog."

You visibly stiffened, and this caught Daryl's attention. "Wha'? Wha's wrong?"

"Talking dog..." You trailed off, your eyebrows furrowing. "Did the dog happen to be a Great Dane? And his owner was this guy in a green shirt and brown pants with messy hair?"

Daryl pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. There were other people, too. Two women and a guy with an ascot."

"Scooby Doo," you stated plainly, giving the archer a playful glare.

"Wha'?" He asked, confusion evident on his face.

"Scooby Doo," you repeated, waving your hand nonchalantly. "That's the cartoon you were talking about. The cartoon you called dumb."

"Yeah, 's 'cus it was. Can't believe anybody actually liked tha' crap."

"Daryl Dixon, how dare you?" You laughed, your eyes widened in surprise. "Scooby Doo is a national treasure! He was part of my childhood and now you're insulting him? I don't think we can be friends anymore."

Daryl chuckled at you, rolling his eyes at your theatrics. "From wha' I saw, the dog and his owner were cowards. Runnin' away, screamin', from fake ghosts after how many years of encounterin' them and knowin' tha' ghosts aren't real but they still think they are? It's stupid as shit, and I ain't apologising for thinkin' tha'."

"You're a disgrace!" You laughed, trying to sound angry but miserably failing. "You're telling me that, real or not, if a ghost was chasing you that you wouldn't run away?"

"Tha's righ'," he nodded, before gesturing to the walkers down at the fence. "I dun' run away from tha' shit, so I sure as hell wouldn't be runnin' away from fake ass ghosts."

"I can't believe you," you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment. "This is the worst betrayal ever. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget this. We won't be able to go back to being friends because of this. This is terrible."

"Stop," he laughed quietly, his eyes twinkling with a rare occurrence of merriment. "It ain't tha' deep. I jus' dun' like it."

"Clearly you don't like it because you have bad taste," you retorted playfully.

"Well, I like ya, so do I still have bad taste?"

Silence. It was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Any trace of the former reverie between the two of you disappeared and was instead replaced with an invisible current of electricity between you. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden revelation from the man, and your heart sped up in your chest. The logical part of your brain told you that he meant it platonically, that he liked you the way he liked Rick or Glenn, but the optimistic part convinced you that he didn't, that your feelings weren't one-sided. That the archer might like you too.

"Probably," you finally responded, feeling your face ablaze with the heat that spread across it.

"Nah, my taste is immaculate," he replied, looking at you carefully, closely monitoring your reactions. Daryl knew that was a risky response, and he was nervous about your reaction, but he hoped for the best.

You gulped nervously. Daryl's response made your stomach do somersaults and your heart pound at the speed of light.

"Yeah? I still think your taste is shit," you finally managed to respond, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. Sometimes you wondered if Daryl knew what effect he had on you. If he knew how many nights dreams of him plagued your mind.

Daryl's chuckle broke the tension between you, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"Whatever ya say." Daryl took the bottle from the middle and took the first swig since the game started. Your eyes drifted to the trickle of whiskey that spilt from the bottle and trickled down his lips and chin, and you had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the spill away.

"You don't like Scooby Doo. That automatically means that you have shitty taste," you retorted, your breathing slightly heavier than before.

You leaned forward to take the bottle from him, but he held it out of your reach. You looked at him in confusion but he simply smirked at you, getting up from his position on the ground to stand tall over you.

"Daryl," you warned, laughing as you got up as well. "It's my whiskey. Give it back."

"Nah, I think Imma hold on to it," he said playfully, holding the bottle above his head. He laughed at you when you jumped to try and grab it from his hands.

"Daryl!" You exclaimed with a laugh, trying everything to retrieve the bottle, but to no avail. "Come on, don't be so mean!"

"Ya said I had terrible taste. Well, I like this whiskey, so tha' means it must be terrible as well, since I like it, so ya probably won't like it," he responded playfully, his eyes alight with mischief.

One final jump to grab it proved to be the wrong move. You accidentally slipped when your feet hit the ground, sending you falling onto Daryl. The archer reacted swiftly, dropping the bottle to to catch you with both hands. The bottle shattered on the ground instantly while you and Daryl toppled onto the floor, the force from your fall catching him off guard. Daryl layed flat on his back with you on top of him, his hands still on your waist from when he tried to steady you before you fell.

You looked into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes and felt your heart speed up. Daryl's eyes darted to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes, but you had caught him. In a sudden burst of confidence, you lowered your face and crashed your lips onto his, catching him off guard for the second time that night.

Daryl stiffened for a moment, surprised at the unexpected action from you, but soon relaxed and slowly kissed you back. He brought one of his hands to the back of your head and drew you closer, his lips slowly moving against yours. His other hand hesitantly trailed from your waist to the small of your back, gently moving over the exposed skin from the ride up of your shirt.

The kiss ended too prematurely for your taste, but oxygen was still a necessity. You slowly pulled back, looking into his eyes with surprise and delight. Daryl looked back at you in adoration.

"Wha' was tha' fer?" He whispered breathlessly, his chest heaving slightly.

"Just because," you replied honestly, still baffled at the fact that you had just kissed Daryl, surprised that you had mustered up the courage to do so in a matter of seconds.

"Well, if ya think tha's gonna prove to me tha' my taste is shit, then yer gonna need to try somethin' different. Tha' didn't work. If anythin', it jus' proved to me tha' my taste is amazin'."

You laughed and shook your head. "You talking about me or Scooby Doo?"

Daryl started sitting up, making you slide down his stomach to sit in his lap. "Definitely ya," he responded, wrapping his arms around you.

"So, you like like me, huh, Dixon?" You teased, linking your arms around his neck.

Daryl hummed and gave you a small smirk. "Mhm," he hummed, giving you a soft peck on the lips. "Wish I'd known tha' talkin' shit 'bout some cartoon dog would make this happen. Woulda done it a lot sooner."

"Don't you ever talk shit about that dog in my presence ever again," you warned with a playful glare, eliciting a chuckle from the archer.

"Jus' to be sure, this means somethin', righ'?" He asked, his tone turning serious. A look of doubt spread across his face. "This wasn't jus' a heat of the moment thing for ya?"

You shook your head, bringing one of your hands to cup his cheek. "Did you mean it? That you like me? And I don't mean in a platonic way."

"I did," he confirmed, leaning into your touch.

"That's good," you said with a small, shy smile. "Because I like you too. Even if you have crappy taste."

Daryl's eyes filled with relief and he let out a small laugh before leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss was brief, but it was sweet and tender. When he pulled away, he brought a hand up to push your hair out of your face.

"Never thought this would happen. I thought ya dun' like me like tha'."

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "No more of that. I don't plan on letting you go now that I have you, Daryl Dixon. You're stuck with me."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, 'm stuck." With that, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. He flipped you over so that you were on your back, making you giggle against his lips.

You were definitely thankful for Scooby Doo and that whiskey bottle right now.

[goldpilot22]

My dad is very nearsighted and is legally blind without his glasses but can see just fine with them - he is the type of person who has to use touch to feel around for his glasses if he loses them. (He also has something going on where his pupils are always slightly too dilated? Which means he has to wear sunglasses while driving in the day, and dislikes driving at night because of the glare from lights, but really enjoys astronomy since he can see the stars very well.) Meanwhile I'm slightly nearsighted, worse in one eye than the other, but it's mild enough that I spent my entire time at college without wearing glasses and only started wearing them again last year when I realized the lack of depth perception was affecting my art. (I'd thought my good eye was slightly farsighted, but it was actually slightly nearsighted, and that mixup meant that my glasses gave me headaches so I didn't like wearing them.)

My mom is hard of hearing because her birth father would hit her on the ears when she was a kid (Grandma divorced that man for her kids' safety, and he's not in the picture no more.) and she sometimes has to ask people to repeat things. I'm technically not HoH afaik, but I have tinnitus and auditory hypersensitivity (the sound of a door shutting just normally is enough to hurt a little, for example) so I wear headphones constantly to muffle all sounds and make things bearable. Because of the headphones and my other auditory processing struggles, it's functionally like I'm hard of hearing, as I often have to ask people to repeat things they said, and especially in loud situations I can't just remove the headphones to hear better.

My grandpa (who I live with and help care for) is hard of hearing and wears hearing aids. Sometimes we have a "conflicting access needs" moment when his hearing aids feedback and produce sounds that are painful to me even through my headphones, but the feedbacking bothers him too so he finds a way to get it to stop pretty soon. We frequently have to ask each other to repeat things or get closer and then repeat things, which can be a bit annoying but we're used to it.

also sometimes we have funny moments such as when I asked "You don't have your hearing aids in, do you?" and he said "I can't hear you! I don't have my hearing aids in!"

For any creatives out there who may need it, this is a fairly important thing to note. Bc shockingly I still see genuine mainstream media still be really sloppy about this topic:

In people who are classified as blind or deaf, there's actually very few cases where it's this, all engulfing complete sensory deprivation. What I mean by this is, that someone can be considered blind if they for example lack peripheral vision so severely that they have to actively focus something on the very center of their field to really make out what it is. Or the other way around. Or that their vision is really blurry. Or their eyes can't focus on the same thing, or dozens of other ways people Can't See Well. Same for deafness: someone's hearing can just be so poor that they can't function the same way that non HOH people can. It can mean that one ear is deaf and the other is normal, it can be just hearing if something is really loud or only being able to hear when there's no background noise. The list goes on.

The way blindness and deafness manifests is extremely diverse but I only ever see media do the "Literally complete darkness" for blind characters and "Wouldn't hear a fucking car coming at them until they see the headlights" type of shit for deaf characters. It's so boring and idiotic. Like duh sensory disabled people can rely on other senses or methods to navigate the world but it also doesn't automatically mean blind people have amazing hearing or whatever else played out archetypes writers like to give disabled characters to make them ~more capable~. Like please don't have the range be either "Pathetically helpless" or "Superhero with one sense missing but that makes them More Special".

Deaf people feel soundwaves and vibrations just like hearing people do, blind people can detect the difference between light and dark, and also feel vibrations and air passage to know when someone or something is there. Now I'm not blind nor HOH but even I know that in most cases it's not that black and white. Blind and deaf characters can be perceptive without being supernaturally talented in other ways ffs. Just realise that it's A Spectrum.

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 06

Words: 4,5k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Authors note: I need y’all to chose between yes or no. Depending on which one wins, something will happen in one of the future chapters 🤭 also thank you for the support ❤️

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Fic playlist

Gojo parked the car near the restaurant you had mentioned. It was a street ramen restaurant, a place you had visited countless times before. The ramen bowls were generous, and the prices were quite affordable, much to the relief of your wallet.

Luckily, you found a place to sit and perused the menu.

“I already know what I'm going to order.” You smiled, setting your menu aside.

“Oh, really?” He glanced up.

You nodded. “The house specialty with extra spice.” Just thinking about it made your mouth water.

“You like it spicy?” He looked at you with a hint of horror.

“Of course I do, Gojo. Don't tell me you don't?” Gojo nodded in response to your question. “Shit, most of the dishes here have some spice to them.”

“It's okay, it's just for one day.” He shook his head.

As the conversation flowed lively and you discovered new things about Gojo, the weight that had been on your shoulders since you stepped foot in the lake slowly fade away.

“Gojo…” You whispered after thanking the waiter who brought you dinner. “About what happened at the lake.”

“You don't have to tell me.” He gently interrupted. “If you want to tell me, then I'll listen and support you. But... if it's too much for you, then you don't have to tell me anything, birdie.” He smiled, and you could feel a warmth spreading in your chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

At times, you completely forgot that you didn't like Gojo, and another feeling you wanted to suppress emerged.

You shook your head and picked up the chopsticks to start eating. As usual, it was delicious and spicy as you liked it. You glanced through your lashes at Gojo and saw him struggling with the spiciness of his ramen, even though it was one of the mildest they had.

“Are you sure you're okay?” You stifled a laugh as you watched him fan himself with his hand.

“Yes, of course.” He coughed a bit. “It's just that... I'm not used to it.” He tried to smile.

“We can order milk, so the spiciness goes away better.” Gojo nodded deliberately, and you couldn't help but laugh.

You signaled for the waiter to bring a glass of milk. Watching him take a few sips and visibly relax, you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

“Feeling better now?” You asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Gojo nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “Much better, thank you.”

The warmth of his smile melted away any lingering tension between you, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the comfort of Gojo’s company.

As both of you continued eating, Gojo struggled to conceal his discomfort. Despite your initial concerns that dinner might be awkward because of what happened at the lake, it wasn't. You felt at ease with Gojo, and his occasional antics made you forget everything.

As you continued to share anecdotes and laughter, your ramen bowls emptied. And the night grew darker outside.

You watched as Gojo got up from his seat to pay. As you observed his back, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having accepted to come to this place with him. Gojo turned on his heels and flashed you a smile, a smile that made your cheeks turn crimson.

You didn't want to admit it, but perhaps Satoru Gojo was growing on you more than he should.

When Gojo returned to the table, you couldn't help the flutter of warmth his smile had ignited within you. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you found yourself drawn to him in a way that both excited and unsettled you.

“Ready to go?” He asked, breaking the silence between both of you.

You nodded, getting up from your seat and following him out of the restaurant. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, the soft breeze rustling the fabric of your clothes.

As you walked side by side, the comfortable silence between you said it all. It was a silence filled with unexpressed thoughts and emotions, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection between you.

With every step, you couldn't help but look at Gojo, the presence of him at your side calming and strangely comforting. And when you got to the car, you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment that washed over you at the thought of saying goodbye.

“Gojo…” You muttered, getting a slight gaze from him. “About the other day…” How could you continue? “I know we are not close but I mean.” Shit. You were awful at these things. “You can talk to me I guess? We are classmates and all that.”

“You seemed awkward.”

“Shit. Is just that I’m awful with these things, okay? That’s why I didn’t know how to react the other day, when you, you…”

“It’s okay birdie. I get it.” You saw him smile. “Thank you for caring and I’m okay, so don’t worry.”

You nodded, still not sure if you should trust that okay he gave you, because it sounded like a lie and that it was hiding more behind.

At this point you couldn't deny that something was growing inside you. Satoru Gojo was making it difficult not to. His easy charm, genuine kindness, and unexpected moments of vulnerability had touched something deep within you, igniting a spark of longing you couldn't ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you were jolted back to reality as the car came to a stop outside your house. Turning to face Gojo, you were met with his warm gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.

“Thanks for tonight, birdie.” He said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. “For coming to the match and for then, coming with me to…”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you returned his sentiment. “No, thank you. I had a really wonderful time having dinner with you. And don’t worry about what happened back in the lake, it was not your fault.”

As you stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk, a sense of anticipation filled you. Despite the late hour and the weariness that threatened to weigh you down, you couldn't shake the excitement that bubbled within you.

Gojo stepped out of his car and walked you to the door, apparently wanting to make sure you arrived safely.

“I'll see you in class.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You whispered back. “Goodbye, Satoru.” You smiled.

“Huh?” He looked at you in surprise. “Wait, did you just...?”

“Goodbye!” You hummed and closed the door before he could say anything else.

As you leaned against the front door, the familiar sound of Gojo's car engine ignited a flurry of emotions inside you. You couldn't help but feel a pang of longing mixed with a hint of anticipation. However, as the sound faded into the distance, a bittersweet smile appeared at the corners of your lips before you forcibly pushed those feelings away, reminding yourself of the need to remain grounded in the present moment.

As you walked through the quiet house, you found solace in the familiarity of your own room. Kyoko's absence, along with the echo of silence, allowed your thoughts to wander freely. Despite the calm outside, turmoil brewed beneath the surface as repressed memories of that night threatened to resurface.

Sinking into bed, you were once again faced with the weight of unresolved emotions. Your mind returned to a pivotal moment etched into your past. With trembling fingers, you reached for the photograph.

“Mom…”

With a whispered word, you invoked the memory of a figure frozen forever in time.

In the quiet solitude of your room, you wrestled with the complexities of your past, piecing together fragments of memories your mind had decided to forget.

As tears threatened to spill, you recalled the few vivid moments still etched in your memory alongside your mother. But many had long since faded away, her laughter, her voice, her scent, now even her expressions were difficult to conjure.

Resting your head on your knees, you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift back to the sweet melody she used to sing before bedtime. Each note resonated with a sense of comfort and longing, a bittersweet reminder of a love that transcended time and space.

Enveloped by the silence of the room, with only the melody resonating from your vocal cords, you began to feel the warm embrace of sleep. Despite your desire to stay awake for Kyoko, your body was simply too exhausted. Each note of the lullaby seemed to lull you deeper into a state of peaceful surrender, until finally, with a reluctant sigh, you succumbed to the soothing embrace of slumber.

As the sun streamed through your window, you blinked opening your eyes, realizing you had slept through the night without interruption. Your cheeks felt wet, and it wasn't surprising; you had dreamt of your mother, something that hadn't happened since you were a child. You wiped your face with the palm of your hand and stretched as you rose from the bed.

With Kyoko's parents away for the weekend, it would just be the two of you. You reached for your phone in your bag to check for any messages.

Kyoko☀️

I'm home now. I saw you were asleep, so I didn't disturb you. Come to my room as soon as you wake up tomorrow!!

That was a good sign, right?

And then there was another message.

Pain in the ass

The exam is approaching. How about we meet on Sunday to study? By the way, good night birdie.

Perhaps it was time to change the nickname, huh? You mentally chastised yourself for realizing you were smiling. You left your phone aside and headed to Kyoko's room with excitement. You flopped onto her bed, calling out her name eagerly.

“Come on!” You urged, nudging her gently. “You have to tell me what happened yesterday.” You smiled with anticipation.

Kyoko opened her eyes slightly and murmured your name. “What time is it?” She asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Almost noon.” You replied.

“Almost noon?” Kyoko sat up, surprised. “I've slept the whole morning away.” She sighed with resignation.

“After getting home at three in the morning, it's understandable.” You teased.

“Don't make fun of me or I won't tell you.” She warned with a smile.

“Come on…” You pleaded with a pout.

Kyoko returned your smile and sat up in bed. “We're officially dating.” She announced with joy. You let out a small yay and embraced your best friend.

“Was it romantic?” You asked curiously.

“Yes. He took me out to dinner first, and then we went to the teamLab, where he asked me.” She sighed nostalgically.

“At teamLab?” You asked, amazed. “You've been wanting to go there for ages, but the tickets were always sold out.” You recalled with surprise.

Kyoko shrugged. “I know, and I don't know how he did it, but we got in, and in one of the rooms, the crystal room, he asked me if I wanted to officially start dating.”

“That's amazing.” You exclaimed, feeling genuinely happy for Kyoko. “It sounds like he put a lot of thought into it.”

Kyoko nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “He really did. It was like a dream.”

“I'm so happy for you.” You said, giving her another hug. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Kyoko returned the hug warmly, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you for always being there for me.” She said softly.

“Of course.” You replied, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. “That's what friends are for, right?”

As you both sat there, basking in the glow of Kyoko's newfound happiness, you couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like these—moments of joy, laughter, etc..

“By the way…” Kyoko looked at you with a smirk on her face. “How was your night?”

“My… my night?” You responded confused.

“Don’t play silly. You went with Satoru, tell me.” She pouted.

“We just went and had dinner.” You said. “Nothing else.”

“Really?” She said with a disappointed tone.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Why do you seem upset?”

Kyoko shook her head. “It's nothing, don't worry about it.”

You nodded reluctantly at her response, sensing that she was hiding something. “We'll see each other again tomorrow.” You said. “We're going to study, don't get confused.”

“Pfft.” She laughed. “Of course not.”

“The exam is next week, and I have to beat Sa-Gojo.” You corrected yourself before saying his name.

“Technically, you already had a date.” Kyoko pointed out.

“Last night wasn't a date, we were just two colleagues going out to dinner.”

“Whatever you say.” She smiled. “Anyways, you have to work today right?”

You bite your lip. “Ugh, yeah.”

“Do you want to meet up after your shift? We can meet Shoko and I can introduce you to her.” She smiled.

“That sounds good.” You replied.

“Perfect.” She got up from her bed and stretched. “Should we have breakfast?” You nodded in agreement.

Kyoko and you enjoyed a breakfast filled with laughter and conversation, but before you knew it, it was time for you to head to work. After bidding Kyoko farewell, you made your way to the store.

It was mid-afternoon when you suddenly remembered that you hadn't responded to Gojo's message. Retrieving your phone, you quickly finding the chat with Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, we will meet again tomorrow.

At your place?

Within minutes, your phone lit up again, displaying a new message from Gojo.

Pain in the ass

Yep

I'll come pick you up, is 10 AM okay for you?

You read Gojo's message and felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Despite the playful nickname you had given him, there was an undeniable anticipation building within you for your upcoming meeting.

You to Pain in the ass

Sounds good, see you then 😌

With the message sent, you set your phone aside and resumed your tasks at the store. The remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur of customer interactions and inventory management, but Gojo's invitation lingered in the back of your mind, adding an extra spring to your step.

As evening approached and your shift came to an end, you found yourself eagerly looking forward to the following day.

You saw Kyoko waiting for you outside, engaged in lively conversation with another girl, whom you assumed was Shoko, Gojo and Suguru's friend. With excitement bubbling within you, you closed the store and made your way over to them.

As you approached, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of Kyoko and Shoko chatting animatedly. Their laughter filled the air, adding to the sense of camaraderie that surrounded them. Kyoko noticed you approaching and waved enthusiastically, gesturing for you to join them.

“Hey there!” Kyoko greeted you with a bright smile. “This is Shoko, the one I was telling you about.”

You exchanged introductions with Shoko, feeling a sense of warmth in her presence.

“Hi!” She smiled wildly. “I have heard a lot about you.”

You felt a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you. “Oh... really?” You attempted to laugh, trying to diffuse the awkward moment.

“Yeah, that idiot…” Shoko began to say before being cut off by Kyoko.

“Shall we?” Kyoko interrupted Shoko before she could continue speaking, her tone indicating a desire to move past that topic.

Confused, you looked at Shoko and then at Kyoko, wondering what had caused this sudden interruption.

“Let's go.” Kyoko said, taking your arm reassuringly. “I know you're starving.”

As you walked together, you couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity about the conversation that was abruptly halted.

On the way to the restaurant, you learned that Shoko was studying medicine and was of the same age as you. In fact, she had been friends with Gojo and Suguru since they were about 14 or 15 years old.

“They tend to be quite intense.” Shoko joked. “And pretty dumb when they're together, but they're good people.” She added with a smile.

You nodded, returning the smile. The camaraderie between you was growing with each exchange.

“But let's stop talking about those two, tonight is girls' night.” Shoko suggested, changing the subject.

“Exactly.” Kyoko agreed with a smile.

Finally, you arrived at the restaurant and took a seat at a table.

Through the night you found out, Shoko liked to drink just as much as Kyoko. So now you were sitting in front of two drunk girls that wouldn’t stop laughing at every minimum thing. Don’t get it wrong, you also drunk and we’re having fun, just not as much as your best friend and your new friend.

“For real?” Kyoko laughed heavily, holding her belly. “I can’t believe it.”

“I swear.” Shoko said with a small hiccup. “Let’s ask for another round!”

You smiled and stopped her. “Shoko… you both are too drunk. For tonight it’s enough.”

“Oh crap… you just sounded like Satoru.” She looked first at you and then at Kyoko. “They would be cute…” She whispered but it was enough for you to hear. Shoko called out your name. “Do you like Satoru?”

You opened your eyes slightly, surprised by her question. “What…?” Only that question came out of your mouth but your mind was functioning like crazy, because as crazy as sound that question also came to your head in the last few days. “Shoko what are you talking about?” You tried to laugh. “No, no, I don’t…”

Kyoko laughed saying your name. “You’re completely red.”

“That’s true!” Shoko screamed pointing at you. “You do like him!”

“I don’t!” Your voice sounded nervous. “I just… I consider him a friend now!”

“But would you fuck him?” Shoko questioned you.

And your face turned completely red. “Shoko! What?!”

“C’mon!” Kyoko scream. “You would right?”

“You are both drunk!” You stood up from your place. “Let’s head home.”

“She definitely would.” Shoko laughed. “I heard he is quite…”

“Okay enough. Let’s go.” You cut her off before hearing what she was about to say.

“Ugh you are no fun.” Shoko and Kyoko cried out.

With great effort, you managed to get Shoko and Kyoko out of the bar where you had been spending the night. Hailing a taxi, you arranged for transportation back home. Shoko would be staying with you at your place; you didn't want to leave her to her own devices in that state, and besides, you didn't even know where she lived. True, you could have called Gojo and asked him, but after that conversation, the last thing you wanted was to have anything to do with Satoru Gojo. You decided to postpone facing the jumble of emotions inside you until the next day.

As the taxi pulled up to your destination, you helped Shoko and Kyoko out of the car and guided them inside your home. Once inside, you settled Shoko on the couch with a blanket and made sure she was comfortable to rest. Despite the late hour, your mind was buzzing with thoughts of the evening's events and the unresolved feelings surrounding Gojo.

After ensuring your friends were settled in for the night, you retreated to your own room, the weight of the night's emotions pressing down on you. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, you needed to rest and gather your strength for the emotional turmoil that lay ahead.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

You adjusted the rebellious strand of hair that kept falling out of place and took a deep breath. Why were you so nervous? You were just meeting up with Gojo to study, but still, your heart couldn't help but race at the thought.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, signaling that it was likely Gojo letting you know he was already outside waiting for you.

You bid farewell to Kyoko and her parents and stepped out of the house. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Gojo leaning against his car, engrossed in his phone. When he heard the door close, he looked up, and your eyes met.

“Hey.” Gojo smiled.

You nodded. “Hi…”

Damn it, what was wrong with you?

“Birdie, you okay?” Gojo leaned in slightly to get a better look at your face.

“Huh?” You refocused your gaze on him. “Oh... yeah, yeah.” You smiled faintly. “Ready to go?” You motioned towards the car.

Gojo nodded and reopened the car door, and you climbed into the vehicle that was already starting to feel familiar. Gojo settled in beside you, and as he started the car, it dawned on you that you were headed to Gojo's apartment.

The conversation from last night echoed in your mind. You were beginning to develop feelings for Satoru Gojo. And that terrified you. You were afraid of what might happen if you let those feelings continue to grow.

“You seem quite distracted.” Gojo's gentle voice broke through your thoughts.

“It's nothing.” You tried to brush it off. “Just thinking about something.”

Gojo simply nodded and focused his gaze on the road ahead. The landscape began to change, arriving at a neighborhood of the city that you did not know. It was a rich neighborhood, the cars that were parked and the whole atmosphere screamed money. It didn't surprise you, where else could the great Satoru Gojo live after all.

Gojo parked his car in a garage and you both silently took the elevator. You watched as Gojo played with the car keys in his hand, while he looked ahead. Your heart continued to beat strongly.

As you entered Gojo's apartment, a feeling of surprise washed over you. It was not what you expected, it was a warm, cozy place. You took off your shoes at the entrance and followed Gojo into the kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Water is fine.” You said. Gojo turned around and grabbed a glass to put some water on it. “Thank you…” You whispered when Gojo gave you the glass.

You tried avoiding his gaze but you knew he knew something was off with you. “Birdie…”

“Should we start with the study time?” You cut him. “Should we study in the living room?” You looked around. “Or there is somewhere else we could study.”

“In the living room it’s okay.” He said, still looking at you.

“Great! Let’s go!” You grabbed your bag and walked towards the living room.

Sitting on the big couch of Gojo’s department, you took out the notebook and waited patiently for Gojo to come and start studying.

You felt Gojo enter the room and sit next to you, too close for your liking. Too much. You could feel your hands starting to sweat and your heart racing again.

Do you like Gojo?

Do you have feelings for him?

The words repeated themselves in your head over and over again.

“Shit…” You murmured.

“Is everything alright birdie?” His soft voice spoke.

“Huh?” You turned your head only to be met with his blue eyes, way too close for your liking, for yourself.

Surprised, you moved backwards, causing you to fall off the couch. Gojo quickly stood up from her position and walked over to you to help you. “Birdie…” He said with concern. "Are you alright?" Gojo grabbed your hands and helped you sit on the couch.

You shook your head. “Yeah…” No. “I went out last night and I’m tired.” I can’t shake this feelings away. “It’s nothing.” It’s everything. “It’s okay…” It’s not.

“You should had told me…” He said with a sad look. “We could have chosen another day…” He whispered. “Nothing would have happened.” He smiled at you.

Satoru Gojo stop or I will completely fall and I don’t want to.

You shook your head. “Don’t worry.” You faintly smiled.

He hesitated but nodded at your words. You both sat next to each other and started studying. Gojo carefully explained the things that were still unclear to you. Each time he approached, your heart rate quickened.

Your feelings were completely tangled up. Satoru Gojo couldn't possibly be someone you liked, but no matter how many times your mind repeated that, your heart felt differently. It reacted tumultuously every time he was near.

As Gojo continued to clarify things for you, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. His proximity seemed to amplify the turmoil within you, leaving you torn between what your head was telling you and what your heart was feeling.

Satoru Gojo POV

Gojo glanced at you from the corner of his eye, observing how completely engrossed you were in trying to solve the problem at hand. You delicately chewed on the end of your pen, your brow furrowing slightly in concentration.

She's beautiful.

Gojo shook his head and turned his gaze away from you.

Ever since he realized that you shared classes and even a major, he had tried on numerous occasions to get closer to you, but without any success.

When he invited you to the lake, he had attempted to confess, not in a romantic way. You see, Gojo did have strong feelings for you, a crush according to him. But he considered it too early to express them; he didn't want to risk pushing you away. What he had wanted to confess was his immense gratitude for what you did when you were six years old. However, just as he was about to do so, you had that panic attack.

He felt immensely guilty. Something had happened to you at that lake, and he had unwittingly triggered those memories. Seeing you so vulnerable and broken had shattered his heart. Holding you close had felt natural, and all he had wanted was for that pain you were experiencing to go away as soon as possible.

As Gojo watched you, he felt remorse for unintentionally causing your distress. He had tried to express his gratitude, but he had only made things worse, leaving you emotionally affected.

Despite his good intentions, Gojo felt guilty for contributing to your discomfort. He hadn't wanted to hurt you, he just wanted to comfort you. The image of seeing you so affected haunted him.

He silently decided to be there for you, support you with everything you needed and show you with actions how much you meant to him. Maybe he couldn't express his feelings at the time, but he was determined to show you his affection in other ways.

“Hey, birdie.” Gojo said softly, breaking the silence between them.

You looked up from your task, meeting his gaze with a curious expression. “Yeah, Gojo?”

“I just wanted to say... I'm sorry.” He began, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I know you already told me it was okay but I didn't mean to upset you back at the lake.”

You paused, studying his earnest expression for a moment before offering a small nod. “It's okay, Gojo. I know you didn't mean any wrong. And... thank you, for trying to help.”

Gojo smiled gratefully at your understanding, relieved to have cleared the air between them. “Of course, birdie. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what.”

Gojo saw you blinking slowly at his words and a small smile appearing on your lips. “Thanks, Gojo. That means a lot to me.”

Note: comment if you want to be tagged

Tagged people: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa,@hexipessimistic, @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun

[rin-and-jade]

Accidentally Setting Off Bombs?.. : A Post on (system) Triggers

What if you're on a fine day, nothing's going wrong, only to be met with a specific phrase or experience that throws off your balance for the next few days?

Well, it seems like you got some landmines in your mental territory with it's uninviting presence--but triggers are more than just a trauma mechanism. As basically, we all (singlet and systems) operate with many, many, different types of triggers that makes us act the way we are.

This post will cover different kinds of triggers, educate the nuance of its purpose, as well as how they operate--or respond like, and how to handle the typical destructive and bad triggers! There's even bonus info. CLICK ME!!

TLDR section: gotchu covered! Scroll to most bottom.

Trigger? What trigger?

Uhhm.. Hold for a sec guys-- *googles awkwardly infront of you* Alright, found it: "to cause something to start" -Cambridge Dictionary

To cause something, you say? Okay, i see now, try bringing yourself back to past experiences for a while and observe how some responses/conversations had made you feel: sad? happy? confused? angry?

That's a general example of triggers, as they spark an emotion to you within a brief moment after you've finished registering and processing an information.

When it comes to system topics, the word "triggers" are often used to describe any informational/sensory input that caused/starts a switch between two parts. This usually takes more than sparking a fuse that will cause emotions to do that though.. here, let the chief explain some types for you:

Types of triggers.. (and as bomb names)

Internal - Dynamite Caused by: Thoughts, memories, experiences Combustion power: High

Details: Due to high sensitivity, any internal pressure can cause it to detonate and land a strong impact, giving way for strong emotional reactions to hit fast and strong, or a sudden switch to happen.

External - Landmine Caused by: Stimuli from external environments (scents, people, places) Combustion power: High

Details: Due to its ability to detect pressure on a proximity, rearing too close to one would cause a detonation, no matter how unexpected or aloof.

Physiological - Grenade Caused by: Heart rate, pain, hunger, fatigue, etc Combustion power: Moderate high

Details: Being exposed to a stimulus causes the safety pin to be pulled, which gradually causes a build up of chemicals before reaching to the shell's threshold, causing a defined space of explosion.

Psychological - Time bomb Caused by: Stress, anxiety, overwhelm, etc Combustion power: Moderate

Details: Set with a special timer, after being triggered, it has a defined length of time before it detonates, this can be from a couple of seconds to hours. Failure to diffuse, would mean the prolonged exposure and effects will inevitably, turn into an explosive mess.

Behavioral - Smoke bomb Caused by: Routine, certain repetition, engaging an activity Combustion power: Moderate

Details: They're not apparently harmful, but when deployed, it causes a fog of confusion, causing dissociation and detachment from a certain part to notice or be fully aware of the situation. Unlike other previous bombs, they may cause a more silent/subtle or temporary switch or shift.

Emotional - Firecrackers Caused by: Negative, or positive emotions Combustion power: Low to moderate

Details: Although small, they're very loud and explosive. They do not have any destructive capabilities within them, yet capable of causing a temporary reaction of emotions or myriad of things. Possibly close to a partial switch/influence. Unless strong, it could cause a switch.

Symptom - Flare gun Caused by: Presence of specific symptoms from illnesses/health Combustion power: Low

Details: They don't have any explosive or destructive qualities, rather, it's akin to an SOS signal, alerting possible parts to come by as an aid to the situation, responding and taking the wheel from the distress call, tanking discomfort/symptoms.

Meaning of terms: "Caused by" - To convey what it detects that started the trigger "Combustion power" - To convey how strong it facilitates a switch, and/or how destructive the reaction would be if it sets the fuse off

Okay, but how do they work??

Explosives devices such as dynamites, landmines, or grenades pack a lot of charged emotions or reactions that is strong enough as a signal to your brain to perform several brain modes and complete a switch that is necessary to the heat of the situation.

While less destructive ones like crackers and flares do not hold enough pressure or combustion, which explains partial alter influences, or just enough to call them into the co-conscious proximity.

--

The idea of how triggers facilitate switches is from how these inputs are taken account into brain modes as cues, and depending on the cues and learnt patterns, it will bring forth an associated alter that fits for the situation.

In short, parts have their own memory banks of experiences and triggers, which is why dangerous or stressful situations bring forth protectors or why seeing cute videos or toys bring forth littles.

Are we ever free from triggers?

No, not really--but that doesn't mean its bad!

Generally, triggers are just the mediator to initiate certain steps, actions, emotions, or learnt behaviors to navigate our life. It's what puts us into work mode, or when to joke--when to not. We're made of different sets of modes, and these triggers made sure we act and think correctly within specific situations.

The issue here is when traumatic triggers are ruining other benign types of triggers, which i will address next.

When bombs are planted with trickery:

The complexity starts here. Why? Because triggers also works in stacks and combos. Especially the traumatic ones. A trigger only can shift/affect a mood or state, but combo'd ones does a rollercoaster of reactions, where most damage is done.

They're capable of stacking or performed in combos due to how each activates another trigger, one after other, i'll give an example:

You got insulted by someone (external trigger) -> Caused you to feel sad (emotional trigger) -> Makes you remember all the other times you've disappointed people (internal trigger) -> These past experiences slowly overwhelm you and cloud your judgement (psychological trigger) -> Which causes a breakdown and perform unhealthy coping mechanisms, like isolating or substances (behavioral trigger)

Oof.... yeah no one would like that. Right? Right??..

Alright, and that's how easy it is to get caught up to a reactive state. And you'd love to know ANY. FRICKING. WAYS. to diffuse that annoying pattern.. which i do know--if not this post won't even be released if it doesn't have the advice section.

Chief, spill your CIA files on this!

I am, i am!!..

Oftentimes, these triggers hit you big and hard,, because once ya lose your cool? Thats game over. Now, here's a lil cheat sheet:

Identify the device Which is why understanding and identifying the name of the bombs is the first important step to counter the detonation. Did you snap a trigger for defensive behavior? Or the one that makes you feel lots of things?

Do not run, attempt to diffuse instead I mean, we all want to escape from potential dangers, but that doesn't stop the explosion, which may or may not hurt you or other people within the process. Once you start feeling finicky or a little panicky--immediately assert yourself to recognize your build up pressure, that'll muffle it good and helps you and control from the reactive bursts from affecting you emotionally and mentally.

Cut the wires off (get out of the negative thought loop) Take proactive steps to solve or manage your emotions. We often assume the worst would happen, and thats when.. you leave the bomb as it is. Get going and prevent the worst possible scenario. Craft a plan on how you can manage,, are there pliers? Do you have enough time to cover with a shield to avoid its impact? I don't know, smash it!

Understand consequences (additional info) When you realize that there are various ways to react after a trigger is activated, you might see which can make the situation worse, or can make the situation lighter. This buys you a little more time to reflect and choose the outcome you truly want to achieve.

For first-timers, it is hard to fight off the bombs because you never had a plan or experience to handle them, if so, this is your call to create a plan or strategy whenever triggers will topple your balance. Most importantly, self confidence and trust in managing a difficult, bomby situation would do you wonders.

If you failed to deactivate the bomb:

Salvage the situation If the damage was inevitable, then you can attempt to ground yourself back, and empathetically apologize to the people who got hurt in the process. Explain to them what just happened, and etc.

Log them in What pattern did you see? What can you implement next time to manage the situation better? This is a good moment for reflection/evaluation and planning.

Give yourself some grace (most important) You're just learning, punishing or shaming yourself won't get you anywhere far. It's okay, you can still practice to deflect another future trigger if you do failed a bunch.

Bonus Information

Triggers are also connected to the polyvagal theory, i'll share you a bit on it!

When brain modes has the job to pull out the right alters for the right situation then... who opens the gate for a switch to happen? Thats right, its your big brother: Mr. PV .

Hyper-aroused vagus:

Switches happen within the sympathetic state--which is all about action and fight/flight. Being in a sympathetic state makes certain alters with active roles be more alert, and also signals an urgency to be flexible or adapt to the situation. The threshold for triggers to feel 'moderate' emotions also lowers (means more sensitive), which also make sense why you are easier to be irritated or emotional in a heightened state.

Often times, if too many alters are co-conscious, and variated stimulus are presented, this causes multiple switches at short successions in attempt to upkeep the demand of which alter is needed within the ever-changing moment. Like when you're trying to juggle some balls with your hands, it's akin to multitasking.. but juggling alters around.

Oh right, sounds familiar huh? That's what rapid switch is.

Hypo-aroused vagus:

But, when you're too overwhelmed or had exerted alot of strain/energy, you might crash into a mental exhaustion.

This exhaustion is the dorsal vagal state, where your body attempts to conserve and hide away when active fighting doesn't work. triggers are harder to facilitate switches as it puts the threshold bar up high.. rendering normal triggers obsolete.

Felt like you've been there? Well, that's the process which made you front-stuck, which you might recognize.

-- clarification -- Rapid switch and front-stuck also involve other factors such as stress tolerance and emotional resilience, take this as a piece of pov to learn how these two mechanisms works.

Takeaway

Alright fellas.. that's all you get from the hands on education on my bomb camp. What kind of bomb do you often experience? Which one is the most annoying to you so far? Let me know!

Also.. it would be awesome if you start mentioning triggers as bomb names as they almost perfectly depict what they feel like.

AND REMEMBER. Do not attempt to intentionally trigger a bomb without a professional or a trusty friend. Doing so alone would cause unwanted effects. If you want to un-learn your triggers, contact me,, the master of bombs,,, i'll be able to curate a personalized step by step on how to tackle them!

(and... uh... i write my posts differently after final fusing, i hope you guys are okay with this forever now)

-- TLDR --

Triggers in DID they are cues (internal, external, emotional, etc.) that cause a specific reaction or switch between alters, depending on the situation.

Triggers vary in impact: some are like dynamite (internal triggers from memories), others like landmines (external stimuli), grenades (physiological states), time bombs (psychological stress), smoke bombs (behavioral patterns), firecrackers (emotional responses), or flare guns (symptom-related).

Polyvagal Theory explains rapid switching between hyperarousal (fight-or-flight state) and hypoarousal (shutdown state), contributing to feeling "stuck" or experiencing frequent switches.

Not all triggers are negative; they can play an adaptive role, bringing forward the most appropriate alter for a situation. Learn to manage and "diffuse" these triggers by identifying them, using grounding techniques, and developing strategies to mitigate their effects.

Key takeaway: Triggers are a natural part of life for everyone, but managing traumatic triggers is essential for those with DID. Understanding and handling them effectively can help maintain balance and well-being.

- chrono

[thepastisalreadywritten]

It was always going to end this way. The truth about Catherine Middleton’s absence is far less funny, whimsical, or salacious than the endless memes and conspiracy theories suggested.

In a video recorded and broadcast by the BBC, the princess says she has cancer and that she had retreated from the public eye to deal with her condition, while attempting to shield her children from the spotlight.

Instead, she had to contend with the internet giggling about whether she’d had a Brazilian butt lift.

My colleague Helen Lewis summed it up succinctly this afternoon: “I Hope You All Feel Terrible Now.”

What is there to learn from such a sad situation? The internet is made up of people, yet its architecture abstracts this basic truth.

As I wrote a few weeks ago, at the center of this months-long story was essentially “a sea of people having fun online because it is unclear whether a famous person is well or not.”

Underneath the memes was always something a little bit gross and indefensible.

Perhaps humans are just wired this way — to gawk and gossip.

There’s nothing new about hounding a member of the royal family or invading the privacy of a celebrity to sell tabloids or go viral.

You don’t even have to be a scold about it: Famous people are wealthy and beloved at least in part because they’re fun to talk about.

Exactly what we do and don’t know about their internal lives is part of the allure — the discourse comes with the territory to a degree.

But Catherine Middleton, of course, is a human too.

During this saga, I kept thinking about the reappraisal of Britney Spears in 2021, as well as the backlash toward past media and tabloid coverage of her rise.

A New York Times documentary dredged up old coverage of Spears from the mid-aughts, showing a young woman clearly in distress, being picked apart by glossy magazines.

Her suffering became entertainment. The response to this film was swift.

Some of the people and institutions that had shamelessly delighted in her pain backtracked: Glamour publicly apologized to the pop star on its Instagram account, noting, “We are all to blame for what happened to Britney Spears.”

Contrast the Spears reckoning with the Middleton drama and, if you’re being generous, you can see some of that newfound attitude in the media.

I was struck by Lewis’s observation that “Britain’s tabloid papers have shown remarkable restraint” throughout this mess.

Progress, perhaps, but what’s also telling is that they didn’t really need to do the dirty work: Random people on the internet were doing it for them.

They recklessly speculated, memed, and used their amateur sleuthing and networked faux expertise to concoct elaborate, semi-plausible explanations for her absence.

Was Catherine’s face actually Photoshopped from a Vogue spread? It wasn’t, but the conspiratorial tweet got 51.1 million views anyhow.

Missing from much of the discourse was the idea that its main character was a person who was likely struggling.

In essence, the internet democratized the tabloid experience, turning the rest of us into paparazzi and addled editors workshopping headlines and cover images — not to sell magazines but to amass some kind of fleeting online popularity.

In my least charitable moments, I see this toxic dynamic as the lasting legacy of social media — a giant, metrics-infused experiment in connectivity that has had a flattening, pernicious effect.

In 2021, I interviewed Elle Hunt, a journalist who’d tweeted an innocuous opinion about horror movies one evening and woke up to find she was trending on Twitter, her feeds choked with thousands of furious replies and threats.

When I asked her to describe the experience of becoming Twitter’s main character for the day, she summed it up thusly:

“You’re repurposed as fodder for content generation in a way that’s just so dehumanizing.”

Three years later, these words resonate even stronger.

What Hunt described to me then as “a platform failure,” feels to me now like a learned behavior of the internet, where people, famous and not, are repurposed as fodder for content generation. The cycle repeats itself endlessly.

This afternoon, the memes about Middleton shifted — from jokes about her whereabouts to jokes about how awful it was that everyone had been making fun of a cancer patient.

Feeling bad about the memes tweets immediately became a meme unto themselves.

Despite the tone shift, the reason for these posts is the same: They’re a way to take a person and repurpose their life for entertainment and engagement.

If this sounds exhausting and depressing, it’s because it is.

But the internet is also too big to be one thing. Clicking through social media this afternoon, I saw dozens of heartfelt testimonials, apologies, and well-wishes for the princess.

For a moment, from my perspective, it felt like watching a collective of people come to their senses.

A recognition, perhaps, of the humanity of the person at the center of the maelstrom.

Then, only a few seconds later, I saw a different post. It was a screenshot from the blockchain platform Solana, where users can create their own cryptographic tokens for others to invest in.

The name of the token in the screenshot is “kate wif cancer,” and its logo is a still of the princess sitting on a bench, taken from this afternoon’s video.

The coin’s market cap briefly surpassed $120,000. Only six minutes later, the price had cratered — the result of a standard memecoin sell off.

An awful thing happened. Some people made a joke about it. Other people made some money. And then everyone moved on.

NOTE: Edited

[icepoptroll]

can you elaborate on some of your Ricky headcanons?😁

Hi! I'm assuming you're referring to my tags on this post that I reblogged earlier today referring to the more medical side of expanding on Ricky in canon?

I think maybe hc was kind of the wrong way for me to describe my Ricky ideas in this area. It's more like, I have the background knowledge to speculate some of what Ricky might have going on outside of what we see in canon. Keep in mind I'm drawing from what I learned back in school and on the job, not my own lived experiences, and obviously not everyone with disabilities like Ricky's have the same universal experience so I make no claim that my word is gospel here ofc!!

For one I think he actually Does have a feeding tube. I've seen him drawn a few times with an ng/nj tube but seeing as a. His condition is, as the post I linked to outlines, most likely neuromuscular and b. This affects him systemically and affects his speech, he most likely also has difficulty swallowing as the same groups of nerves and muscles are involved with both and so speech and swallowing sorta go hand in hand. There are no 100% absolutes and I can't speak for every single scenario that might necessitate a feeding tube. However I do find from working in my field that generally, people who have one due to dysphagia because of a permanent condition (such as his, which is understood to be progressive) have gastrostomy tubes, which go directly into the stomach through the abdominal wall. I've drawn him with this type of tube a couple of times, but obviously it's generally less visible than one inserted nasally and the only way for it to be very visible in a drawing is, ya know, if Ricky pops his top off, lol, or at least pulls it up some.

That being said, not everyone with a feeding tube gets nutrition by this route exclusively. Some people with g tubes eat orally to varying degrees with certain preparations and supplement with tube feedings, and other people can't take anything at all by mouth. I feel like Ricky is somewhere in the middle and that he'd eat soft stuff with textures and consistencies that make it easy to chew and swallow, and drink thickened liquids. (I think Ricky actually quite likes to eat and uses a lotta sauce c:) Any meds he takes are in liquid form or crushed pills mixed with water that go into the g tube. I think he knows the ins and outs of taking care of the g tube on his own, however sometimes it seems to have a mind of its own (stuff happens sometimes with any kind of equipment ofc) and also sometimes it'd be an uphill battle keeping the cats away from it

I'm a little tuckered out from work right now and it would take me a while to call to mind all of my speculations but yeah that's basically just a little bit I imagine about Ricky based on observations I've made working with real people

Outside of the more medical side of Ricky I'm always drawing fun content of him as I run @enter-the-rickyverse and sometimes I incorporate my own hcs into the drawings (ie. He has a great sense of humor, he plays piano, he likes to wear short sleeves shirts over long sleeved shirts, fun stuff like that) I mean he's really just an awesome character to delve into exploring in all sorts of aspects

[lemonsquashhh]

♡THREE♡

(AN: HIII I’M BACK!! Here’s the next chapter to my fanfic/fanmade TWST event! Leona and Chiiyuki are heading out to the Court of Springs. Here, you’ll get a small glimpse of this island and its history. I hope to start working on chapter 4 soon. Like are appreciated ^ - ^)

ch. 2

ch. 1

Leona’s POV:

I peered down at Chiiyuki, walking by my side with a solemn expression. My body could sense her palpitating heart rate. I wanted to let her know that if any time she wanted to turn back, then all she had to do was say the word. Almost instinctively, my hand brushed against hers to let her know I’m here with her. But to my surprise, there was a small flame of determination in her eyes. Her love for her parents must have been so strong that it conquered her worries. She was trying to be strong in a situation that terrified her, which I kind of admired.

We then made our way down a steep, rocky hillside of the coast. At the bottom, waiting for us was a small wooden boat. I observed the boat for any signs of dangers before I climbed in. On one of the seats, I noticed small engraving and remains of ash carved into the wood. From the general shape, it reminded me of symbols from the East, specifically used in enchantments. Luckily, I’m pretty knowledgeable on ancient magic so I could easily guess that it’s an enchantment to navigate the boat.

I look up to spot Chiiyuki several steps away from the boat, taking in deep breaths to calm herself down. Chiiyuki took one last glance at the scenery behind her. One of the guards gave her a reassuring, firm pat on the back to give her the push she needed. Chiiyuki snapped out of whatever daze she was in and marched on forwards.

Chiiyuki joined me in the boat, carefully stepping in to not rock the boat too much. She was seated beside me , thigh pressed up against mine.

“Are you sure you want this?” I asked her once more, wanting to make sure she is comfortable. Chiiyuki managed a nod. The flame of determination wavering in her eyes, her spirit.

With Chiiyuki’s confirmation, I nodded for the guards to push the boat into the water. The boat bobbed in sync with the tranquil waves. Slowly, we drifted away from shore, gradually moving until the figures of the guards were a mere speck in the distance.

Not too long into our little journey, I noticed the light from the sky beginning to dimmer. Dark grey clouds gathered above us, gradually obscuring the clear, sunny skies. There was an ominous tension in the air, as the sky darkened. I felt the hairs on my arms stick up, an instinctual response. My eyes moved to Chiiyuki’s direction, trying to search for answers.

Chiiyuki responded by scooting even closer to me. Her arms were slightly raised from her sides, held out towards me.

“May I? It’s going to get cold from here onwards.”

Up ahead of us, was an area shrouded in darkness accompanied by fog. I caught a small whiff of what I could only describe as cold, but earthy. A chill wind blew some of the fog in our direction, past our boat and immediately I allowed Chiiyuki to hold me. Her arms immediately embraced me, keeping me tight in place. I soon realised it wasn’t just any ordinary hug. She was transferring some of her magic to me. I felt some of her magic infusing with mine, causing warmth to spread throughout my entire being.

The boat continued on its path, even with our path being obstructed by the fog. And as we ventured onwards, the fog only grew thicker until I couldn’t see anything anymore. All that was left was the gentle swaying of the boat, and Chiiyuki’s body pressed up onto mine. What once I described as cold frigid arms, were now comforting like a thick blanket. The warmth from her embrace helped me relax as we continued through the fog. I could feel my eyelids grow heavier. With each passing moment, it became increasingly harder to stay awake.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A soft shush. Then the next, and then another. In and out, rhythmic. As I became more aware, the shushing had a discernible crash before receding. Gradually, I regained my senses and forced my eyes open. We were still out at sea, our small boat drifting with purpose.

Not too far in the distance, I noticed a small yellow light. Then two, then four, then eight…until there was an entire row.

We were approaching the pier. More lights from the surrounding buildings came into view. Lanterns dimly illuminated the silhouttes of buildings deeper within the city. Vibrant red spider lilies equally, if not taller than the buildings grew in harmony with the structures. As Chiiyuki said, the Court of Springs was enveloped in darkness. The only source of light was from the flames.

Speaking of which, my ears picked up a faint, yet distinct sound of chattering not too far off. There weren’t any sounds akin to vehicles, mostly chattering and the twinkling of fairy dust. Chiiyuki’s grip around me tightened. Her face was buried on my arm, shying away from the city’s entrance.

Up on the pier were two distinct, still figures. They were the only ones there, no other boats at sight. One of them raised an arm to gesture to the boat to come forwards. Immediately, our boat beelined to the side of the pier.

“Stop.” A baritone voice commanded.

The enchantment wore off, leaving it bobbing up and down with the waves. I carefully removed Chiiyuki’s arms around me to stand up and get off the boat. My legs were stiff and numb from sitting in that tiny wooden vessel for an unascertained period of time. It felt good to finally be able to stretch my legs, not to mention refreshed thanks to the cool night air.

I turned back at the sound of Chiiyuki’s clumsy footsteps and the creaking of wood. Out of concern, I reached my hand out for her own. Her hand trembled in mine, even when I helped her onto the wooden pier. Chiiyuki’s nimble legs nearly gave out beneath her. She found her footing by placing her arms on me once again.

“Don’t step on my feet again.” I grumbled in mild annoyance.

My gaze swept over the dark city ahead of us. With how closed off the Court of Springs is from the rest of the world, perhaps it would make for a good final resting spot. The only place where I would be nobody, no one to bother me. No more people to disappoint. No more reminders of how I’m a failure…

Chiiyuki sounded a bit out of it. She kept her eyes on her wobbly legs, desperately looking away from the edge of the pier.

“I’m trying. Just, I’m so dizzy…” Chiiyuki’s voice trailed off at the end. Two pairs of footsteps approach us, the sound reverberating through the thin wooden planks.

“Chii…Chiiyuki!” One of the figures originally looking out at the edge of the pier rushed to Chiiyuki’s side. It was a woman, slightly older in appearance than Chiiyuki. She had dark, cherry red hair tied into a low bun. Holding her hair in place was a golden pin, adorned with a sculpted flower on one end.

The woman wrapped her arms around Chiiyuki. She held her tightly, rocking her side to side. “You’re okay. Thank goodness. We were so worried…”

The other figure, a tall man dressed in a long, dark coat with fur on the edges, joined the reunion. Like Chiiyuki, he had the same honey hair and ruby eyes. I was absolutely astonished at how long it took me to realise who the figures were waiting for us at the pier. Must have been exhaustion. The man pat Chiiyuki’s head. He was silent, but relief shone in his eyes.

Chiiyuki’s mother turned her head up to show her gratitude. “Thank you for bringing our daughter back to us.”

Her words echoed deeply in my head. Seeing Chiiyuki being cared for, by the only people who were meant to love her, ignited a deeply seated jealousy in my heart. Years of failing to receive approval from my folks, who were supposed to love me, surfaced in my memories. I took a step back so I wouldn’t be intruding on the happy family moment.

“…whatever.” I gritted through my teeth. This place was miserable.

My ears picked up a quiet, deep voice whispering something to the reunited family. Chiiyuki’s mother made a content noise in agreement to whatever the father said.

“You must be freezing out here. How about joining us for tea? We made reservations at a teahouse to celebrate our daughter’s um…return.” An offer done out of courtesy. A part of me really wanted to turn down the offer. The notion of a celebration filled with happiness made me really irritated. Yet, I couldn’t turn it down. I wasn’t going back on that suffocating vessel any time soon.

“Sure.” I huffed. Chiiyuki’s mother smiled and began guiding the way into the city. The family of three walked past me, staying close together for most of the way there. I trailed after them, taking my time to let my eyes roam around the frankly barren city. Once we’re past the stone gates, I couldn’t help but find myself intrigued with how small everything is. Most buildings were two stories at most, made of concrete and slate tiles. Garden fairies flew around the city, collecting a bright, silvery dust from the spider lilies of varying heights that were scattered all around.

Chiiyuki glanced back at me with concern etched into her face. She gestured to her parents to go on ahead, before walking up to me. Even when she was reunited with the people she loved the most, for some reason she wanted to be with me? I hated being pitied by people. It’s like she was looking down upon me.

“I don’t want you to feel cold.” A hopeful smile graced her lips. Our arms brushed up against each other.

I sped up pace to move away from her side. I turned away from her to keep my face hidden. I felt a sudden chill course through my body the moment I tore myself away from her, but ignored the discomfort.

She ran up to my side, and once again I moved away from her. I let out a loud huff to let her know I wasn’t in the mood to entertain her. A hint of dejection flashed in her eyes, but she was not deterred. Chiiyuki strode up to my side. She linked her arm with mine, unwilling to let go. Now that we were physically touching each other, I wasn’t going to push her off. And so, I relented. The warmth I once experienced in the boat returned. My body tension gradually eased, the coldness taken over by a soothing balm to my soul.

The teahouse, much like other buildings, was small on the outside yet surprisingly spacious on the inside. Illuminating the main room were golden lanterns hanging from the ceiling. There were also mahogany wooden poles supporting the building’s structure, with red silk curtains parted on each side. I’d assume they were usually put in place to provide some sort of privacy for guests. Rows of tables for where patrons would usually dine in, were cleared for today’s special occasion.

I sat down beside Chiiyuki, her parents seated across from me. There was one last seat at the head of the table. Were they expecting a fifth person? Chiiyuki never mentioned other family members besides her parents. To my left Chiiyuki was doing her best to make herself as small as possible. A looming dread emanating from Chiiyuki’s being invaded my senses. It made the hair at the back of my neck stand up a little.

Loud, strong footsteps approached our table. “Ah, my children are already here? A pity, I was hoping to welcome my lost child back home.”

A tall, imposing woman with an intimidating face strolled up to our table. She had long dark hair with orange peekaboo highlights, tied up in a high half ponytail. Chiiyuki’s parents nearly jumped out of their seats to greet the third guest. The anxious fairy to my left was still seated. Her mother quietly signalled for her to stand up. It took a few tries, but eventually Chiiyuki followed suit. Of course, I stood up too. I wasn’t going to outright disrespect a figure of importance on my first day. That could be done later.

“It’s fine, Guo Wan. And you, Fuyuki, you can rest easy now that I’m here.” The woman spoke warmly, but still maintaining her imposing stature. Her attention then drifted to Chiiyuki and myself.

“My darling, child. And she brought an outsider.” The woman reached her hands out, cupping Chiiyuki’s face tenderly. Her rudy hands stroked the fairy’s cheeks with care. I propped my arm up on the table to pretend to rest my head. My head turned away to conceal the roll of my eyes.

“You travelled far to return home. You must be exhausted, poor girl .” The woman stared deeply into Chiiyuki’s eyes.

Guo Wan, Chiiyuki’s mother, ushered me to sit down. From the way she looked over at me, I knew we would have to wait for our third guest to finish whatever nonsense she had to say to Chiiyuki.

It must have been nice to have so many people care about you.

The woman took her seat at the head of the table. Only once the woman was sitting did Chiiyuki return to her spot beside me. Her posture was stiff and uncomfortable. Honey bangs lowered just enough to cover her eyes, but subtle enough to conceal her eyes. Pale pink lips twitched in a slight bit of anger.

“Leona Kingscholar, was it? ”

I turned my attention to the head of the table. My expression remained neutral.

“I warmly welcome you to the Court of Springs. I am Guangyan, the fifth King. Normally, we don’t get visitors from the outside. But even if you aren’t born from our soils, I shall treat you like the rest of my children- isn’t that right, Fuyuki?” Guangyan’s amber eyes darted straight towards Fuyuki as soon as she said his name.

“You’ll…manage.” Fuyuki’s gaze dropped to the surface of the table. Doubt and uncertainty was barely even hidden in his voice. I let out an audible ‘tch’, what sort of response was that?

Guo Wan coughed, interrupting the tense atmosphere. She offered to order some food for the five of us, as well as the tea house’s specialty tea.

Even when the food arrived, the mood was irritating. I picked up a piping hot steamed bun. Too annoyed to even care about my hand burning, taking a bite to get my mind off the current situation.

“So, Leona…how long do you plan on staying here for?” Guo Wan made an attempt to start a conversation with me.

I shrugged. I genuinely had no idea where we’d be going from here on out. Even though I did promise Chiiyuki to accompany her, it seemed like she wasn’t going back any time soon.

“Why not stay a few days? The Ushering of Blossoms festival will be here soon.” Guangyan suggested. It took everything within me to not roll my eyes. I had absolutely no interest in partaking in a loud, noisy festival. However, if the King of this damn country was making the offer- I couldn’t reject the offer plainly.

Guangyan took it upon herself to make the final decision. I wasn’t even able to get a word in, but since she finalised it, I didn’t have much of a choice. “I’ll have a hotel room booked for the two of you. It shall have the best view for when we have our fireworks show.”

“I’ll have to pass on the fireworks, my ears are sensitive to loud noises.” I stated bluntly. It was partially the truth, so there was no shame in bringing it up.

Guangyan waved her hand dismissively. “No worries, I’ll get you some ear plugs.”

“I hope you’re excited for the festival, Leona! I still remember when Fuyuki celebrated it with us for the first time.” Guo Wan spoke with nostalgia. She playfully nudged Fuyuki, urging a response from him.

“I don’t like loud noises, either. Stay by the river, the fairies put on art performances there every year.” Fuyuki responded, a bit bashful.

Fuyuki reached into his pocket and slid a golden amulet across the table towards me. The metal radiated the exact same kind of warmth that Chiiyuki provided me while we were on the boat together.

“The land isn’t kind to outsiders, like us. This here will protect you from some of the land’s curse.” He explained.

“If we knew you were coming, we would have prepared more for you,” Guo Wan spoke apologetically. She shifted her attention to Chiiyuki, her tone became much more stern, “Until then, stay close to him, okay?”

“What are you all so worried about?” I asked, interrupting the two.

Guangyan’s eyes widened. “Ah Chiiyuki hasn’t told you about the land’s curse? Then allow me to do the explaining. Coincidentally, it ties into the origin of the Ushering of Blossoms.”

“After my predecessor, the first king, arrived, the land was struck by a meteor that wiped nearly all life from the face of the Court of Springs. Our land was corrupted by the negative energy and it attracted many monsters who wreaked havoc on our land. My predecessor was able to vanquish evil, but the damage that was done could never be properly fixed. At that time, the only inhabitants were the king and his followers that he brought with him from afar. Many of them either perished during the fight or starved due to the lack of food left.” Guangyan began to explain the land’s history.

“However, there was still some hope. My predecessor fought alongside a dragon sculpted by the heavens to aid in the conflict. At the end of their final battle, the dragon used its remaining energy to heal our soil. And that was when the first patch of spider lilies were born!”

Guangyan seemed to really revel in the past king’s bravery. So much so, she didn't even answer my own question. Picking up on my frustration, Chiiyuki piped in. Her voice was quieter than usual, a bit meek.

“The land drains all life, except for lifeforms born from the soil. That’s why on the boat…I imbued some of my magic into you to keep you out of harm’s way..” Guilt laced her words. I instantly narrowed my eyes on her. Anger built up in my chest, how could she have been so reckless? She didn’t even care enough to warn me about the dangers of stepping onto these cursed lands? Was she really expecting to protect me the entire time? As if.

Immediately noticing my anger, she quickly apologised. “I’m sorry, Leona. It was selfish of me to not tell you sooner. I promise you, you won’t die. I’ll keep supplying you with my magic.”

Real convenient, apologise now when it’s too late. When I can’t leave this damn place. I huffed, dismissing her concerns.

To my surprise, Fuyuki stepped in. For someone so aloof and intimidating on the outside, he was a real softie.

“I’ll have a coat like mine prepared for you tomorrow. I’m very sorry you had to learn this so late.” Fuyuki bowed his head deeply. It took me aback at how he was so concerned for a literal stranger.

“Forgive me, when I see you…I am reminded of my younger self.” He roughly added, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

I responded with a wry smile. At least he was trying to be earnest.

Once the table was cleared, Guangyan was the first to stand up. She announced that she had a meeting to attend, but will quickly arrange accommodations for Chiiyuki and I at the promised hotel. Chiiyuki’s parents thanked her in unison for joining them for tea and bowed their heads until she left the building.

“As you can already tell, our king is a very prideful ruler. Her words are absolute.” Guo Wan put on a smile in front of me. I shook my head.

“I’m used to this kind of stuff. Stubborn, stuck up sort of people. Can’t tell them they’re wrong to their face.” I discreetly added to the sentiment. To my surprise, Guo Wan and Fuyuki nodded, Fuyuki being less reserved than his wife.

“She’s been keeping the Court of Springs in a good state, way before I arrived. She says it is her duty to protect the country her predecessors ruled.” Fuyuki recalled the words with bitterness.

“Oh come on, at least she gave you a good job.” Guo Wan shot him a teasing look. Fuyuki immediately rolled his eyes and huffed.

“I’ll get that coat made for you. You are shorter than me so I think I can have the measurements adjusted…" His blunt words caught me off guard. I was a bit offended, but didn’t stay too mad since he was nice enough to offer me a special coat.

“In the meantime, Chiiyuki can show you around the city!” Guo Wan smiled. She hugged the two of us, pushing us together. Chiiyuki looked away shyly, guilt still eating away at her. She whispered something about “I can’t” or “I really shouldn’t.” Seeing her still so distraught made my heart clench. I knew I was still upset at her for not letting me know how dangerous it would be coming to the Court of Springs. Would I have still come with her if she told me before? I don’t know, I didn’t really have a chance to think. Yet for some reason, it hurt me that she broke my trust.

But another part of me yearned to see that frown go away. I thought bringing her here would make her at least a bit happy. She was surrounded by the people she loved, so why wasn’t she smiling? Things couldn’t have been that simple, she did run away after all.

There was still a lot Chiiyuki had yet to divulge to me. Maybe, just maybe if I could get her to open up…there’s a chance that I might consider forgiving her.

I recalled the moments where she brought up her time here. There was always a sort of melancholy in her tone when she reminisced. There was a sense of longing, wishing that when she could share her part of her world, it wouldn’t bring up painful memories.

That’s right, she was terrified of coming here. She didn’t want to be alone. She needed someone to face her troubles with. Chiiyuki wanted me by her side.

I’m no hero, and I’m not nearly that kind to lend someone a hand in troubling times. But that’s the usual scenario. Right now, I was stranded in a faraway country with no way out. Well, since I was her first (and only pick), perhaps I’ll take what little honour comes with that. Just this once, I’ll forgive her.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Later that Night ✧₊⁺⋆☾

Needless to say, Guangyan held up on her promise- her words were law, afterall. Guo Wan led us to the “hotel”. It seemed that there was some foreign influence as it was one of the few taller buildings, though I think the term “inn” would suit it better.

Chiiyuki and I were surprised to learn that we would be sharing a room. According to the manager, many fairies from distant villages had travelled here to work on the upcoming festival. This left us with a single room for us to share. Back at Night Raven College, we’d sit close to each other whenever I stopped by the botanical garden. She had also stayed in my home for a few days in the Sunset Savanna- before our mundane winter break was interrupted. But we’ve never been this close together. Seeing that her parents were standing right behind us, I could only shrug nonchalantly.

Chiiyuki hugged each of her parents goodbye. Her mother leaned in, placing her head on top of her daughter’s.

“Stay close to Leona, okay? Go with him.” She spoke to her softly, but loud enough for my ears to hear her. Guo Wan’s tone was less jovial than before. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes as she let go of her daughter. Our eyes briefly met, and it became apparent that was her intention. I nodded my head.

One of the staff showed us to our room. It was on the top floor with a large balcony that faced towards the city. The ominous stillness was a stark contrast from the Sunrise City, where no matter how late, there was at least some life. Not to mention, the lack of a proper night sky. The Court of Spring had no stars, no moon. Numerous lanterns strung from rows of buildings illuminated the eternal vaste darkness that cursed the entire Court of Springs. There were tall mountains in the distance. A faint light came from one of the peaks, intriguing my curiosity. We stood there for a bit, taking in the eternal night breeze.

“Leona, about earlier- at the tea house…” Chiiyuki tripped on her words.

“Forget it, I don’t care anymore.” I gruffly interrupted her. What good was an apology when the damage was already done?

Chiiyuki was astonished. That was enough to make her realise how her dishonesty made me feel. Night Raven College was a dog eat dog, every man for himself school. Hell, survival of the fittest was my dorm’s creed. I knew better than to show mercy to others if I didn’t want to be taken advantage of.

Still, why did it hurt when Chiiyuki hid the truth from me?

“Leona…” she gently grasped for my arm. The fairy took in a deep breath. With a large exhale, her anxiety slightly subdued. Her ruby eyes turned up to look at me directly, a glimmer of confidence flickering.

“I-I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I won’t let you get hurt or injured. Please, let me protect you.” She had mustered up the courage to be resolute in her vow. Seeing earnesty etched onto her face made what little anger I had left melt away. This was the sort of look a well respected king would receive from a devout follower. Not me, a failed prince.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. I took some time to consider her words. Standing up straight, I looked down into her eyes- wanting to return that sincerity.

“ I get it, you were scared of coming alone.” I started. My tone was gruff, albeit softer. A wounded ego, built to refuse any outstretched hands, momentarily considered to wither for my own good. Yet at the same time. I didn’t want her to be weighed down by her guilt.

“Don’t get hurt while playing hero. Otherwise, how am I supposed to return home?”

“O-oh, of course! I shall take care of myself too.” She quickly flashed me a smile. The tension between us from before was finally able to be alleviated.

“That’s a good fairy.” I teased her with an arrogant smirk.

Now that we were back on good terms, there was something I had been meaning to ask her. My mind flashed back to something that did bother me earlier. Earlier in the tea house, King Guangyan welcomed Chiiyuki with no questions of her whereabouts. I didn’t recall hearing Guangyan ask why she ran away or any sense of anger. Why was she only relieved that she returned? And how did she know my name?

“About Guangyan…” I trailed off, searching her expression for any signs of discomfort.

Chiiyuki sighed. A weary expression settled on her face. It seemed that she was expecting this question.

“King Guangyan doesn’t care about my personal recount, not when her powers…allow her to know everything.”

Chiiyuki’s voice grew quieter. “She’s the ruler of absolutes, all of her judgements are based on truths. Everyone here knows she has records of the good deeds and misdeeds.”

Her hands conjure lustrous dust, gracefully spinning around to form the vague shape of Guangyan with a lengthy scroll in her hands.

“When I was a kid, I saw Guangyan use her powers on somebody. A man was brought to her for judgement. She summoned her scroll and placed her hand on his forehead. There was like…a bright light was being absorbed into her body. And then tons of words suddenly appeared on her scroll. She then proceeded to read all his crimes out, even the ones the guards weren’t aware of. That was all she needed to cast her judgement.”

I felt a bit of unease from what Chiiyuki described. The idea of someone being able to know everything about me and have it written down was unsettling. I for sure would never have done that if I were king.

“Then…how did she know of your whereabouts?”

Chiiyuki shook her head. “I think…she used her powers on me? I’m sorry, I really don’t know how her powers work. There’s got to be more to her ability that we don’t know about.”

I huffed in frustration. “So this is the kind of ruler the Court of Spring wants, huh? What a dreadful place to have someone know everything about you.”

Chiiyuki laughed bitterly. “She keeps the people happy, the country protected, maintains peace, traditions,the laws…everything.”

“Sounds convincing.” A less than enthusiastic remark escapes my lips.

Then, a thought crossed my mind. “Maybe we can sneak off during the Ushering of Blossoms?”

“That’s not a bad idea. My parents said Guangyan doesn’t bother sending her guards to the pier.”

I couldn’t help but question that statement. “What happened to our wonderful protector of the country?”

Silence fell over the both of us. Pale fingers tighten their grip around the wooden railing of the balcony. I notice the way Chiiyuki’s throat bobbed, years of praise ingrained into her mind restrained her true thoughts from spilling out.

“I don’t think the people even think about the pier. Maybe back then. Why think of something not worth worrying about?” Chiiyuki tensed at her own words. She raised her gaze, searching my face for reassurance.

“No…I get that. You’ve got a problem free philosophy.”

Chiiyuki chuckled nervously. “Not really, it’s just easier this way. If I turn away from it, it’s like it’s not there.”

“Yet you came back.” I stated bluntly. Stunned by my remark, Chiiyuki tensed up. Her hands clenched tightly around the rails. It took some time and searching for her to find her answer.

“It may sound ridiculous, but I feel something…” She places a hand over where her heart is. Her eyes wavered, conflicting emotions between running away or facing something were flashing through her mind.

“I have unfinished business here.”

She glanced up at me with full earnesty. I huffed. It was an unsatisfactory answer, vague and without even a glimmer of a goal.

We both fell silent for a couple of moments. Exhaustion from the long trip, as well as the day’s events were like a dark, heavy cloud above us. I’m sure we both needed some quiet time to cool off, even if it’s for a bit. As long as she was silent, I probably wouldn’t mind spending my ‘alone time’ with her.

Without any proper indications of time, I couldn’t tell what time of the day it was in the Court of Springs. Were the inhabitants getting ready to get off work? Has the day only begun? I was lucky I was only visiting, because I really needed some rest. I turned back inside the balcony, gesturing Chiiyuki to come in too so I could close the balcony door.

We both took turns washing up and getting dressed into a casual, yet comfortable set of robes- provided by the inn. I was actually pretty surprised at how advanced the bathroom was for a place that seemed stuck in the past. The tub was cylindrical and made of stone. Thin, golden veils were draped around the bath to give the illusion of privacy, and the light cascading from above made the fabric seem to shimmer. As soon as I stepped in, warm, crystalline water filled up the tub up to my shoulders in mere seconds. It was truly a surprise, a relaxing one at that. The warmth of the water made me feel like I could ease the ache in my muscles from all the walking today.

After our baths, Chiiyuki and I tucked ourselves in for the night. The magic in the room sensed that we were beginning to get a little drowsy. The lights dimmered slightly with each passing moment.

Chiiyuki turned around on her bed, facing towards me. Even with the slowly fading light, I could make out a wishful smile forming on her lips. “Leona…even if I did come here to see my parents, I’m pretty excited to celebrate this festival with you.”

I felt a bit of pride swell up in my heart. Of course she wanted me to come with her. No one else would’ve been better.

“Yeah? Better make it worthwhile.” I challenged her. My eyelids were growing heaving. It was getting harder to stay awake.

Chiiyuki was becoming sleepier too. It was then when I noticed a familiar, faint scent of first snow filling the room. Maybe some honey too. It made me feel at ease, welcoming me into a peaceful, temporary, slumber.

“It’s a promise.” I’ll make sure to show you around tomorrow, take you to all the best parts and eat lots of yummy food.” Chiiyuki yawned in between some of her words. I couldn’t help but chuckle, she was being so foolish.

The light of the room grew fainter, dimmer and then still. Now, it was time to rest.

I smirked. “Good night, fairy.”

“Night, Leona. Sweet dreams.”

[robinyourcreator]

Your OC's Personalities

thank you @defira85 for the tag! always love an excuse to yell more about my gorls

Adana (left) and Alde (right)

I will tag @skingrad and @tacticalgrandma aaaaand anyone else who wants to me to coo over their Tav/Durge/Rooks!

How would you describe Adana’s personality?

Adana comes across as a “light touch.” Very warm, very sincere, with an easy confidence and a gently teasing/mildly self-deprecating sense of humor. She knows the reputation and archetypes people are going to ascribe to her for being a bard, and she’s more than happy to play into them. She’s an extremely anxious, nervous wreck of a perfectionist and a control freak underneath, but the sincerity is real even if the confidence isn’t. Intensely principled but with an incredibly low sense of self-worth or even self-preservation, so she’s willing to die for anything and anyone, at anytime. (We are working on this.)

What brings Adana joy?

Being Useful™, making other people happy, helping others, defining herself by the needs and desires she fulfills in others—hey, wait a minute.

...A well-kept ledger. A good deal at the market. The antics of small children and animals. A good book. Art and music. Time to herself when no one wants or needs anything from her.

What does Adana strongly dislike?

Condescension. Entitlement. Abuses of power. Anyone who thinks they’re better than her. And… alcohol, actually, because she’s that kind of a control freak. She still partakes because to not do so would invite questions, but takes an absurd amount of care to never get past ‘mildly tipsy’ while still looking like she’s drinking as much as everyone else. Nearly any touch she doesn’t initiate herself.

Is Adana scared of anything?

Being made helpless. Cold, dark places. No longer being needed.

What is Adana’s alignment?

Neutral-to-Chaotic Good. Intensely principled, but those principles are largely, “don’t do, or fail to do, anything that will keep her up at night” with a side of “fuck the establishment because rich people are awful.” It is of utmost importance to her to Do and Be Good, but laws are just suggestions that quite plainly don’t apply to everyone.

How would you describe Alde’s personality?

Now? A quiet, skittish soul with the occasional shameless streak when she wants something badly enough or feels she’s done something worthy of praise. Prefers to observe before she acts, and but also just because she likes to observe in general. A kicked puppy. A stray kitten left out on the street in a cardboard box in the rain. A single kind word to her and you will have a friend for life. The most pitiful and pathetic little creature. Comes across as much younger than she is (100+, but her default answer is “26” because of 1) baby face 2) haircut makes her look fourteen years old 3) the ‘tism 4) the memory loss making her a poor baby bird who was only just born yesterday.)

Pre- having her brain eaten by worms, thus rendering her this precious baby bird who was only born yesterday? Workaholic in constant sensory overload. “Arrogance and efficiency” and “murder made flesh.” The most miserable not-quite-human being alive. Desperately lonely.

What brings Alde joy?

Any kind of physical affection. People watching. (Particularly for people she can put on her yuri knight vision goggles for ;) ) Learning new things. Patient teachers. The whole world is new to her, and she will find joy in any part of it that’s pointed out to her.

What does Alde strongly dislike?

Funny enough-- blood. It’s hot, it’s sticky, it gets everywhere, and it’s such a pain to get out of your clothes. Also red meat, because it tastes like blood.

Being mistaken for being younger than she is-- or worse, being condescended to because someone has mistaken her for a child.

Poor tactical choices, which she takes as a personal insult. You used this sloppy of a formation? Against ME? How dare you. The arrogance of semi-immortal demigodhood has remained post brainwipe.

Is Alde scared of anything?

She is terrified of being the thing that kills her loved ones, of course, but she mostly trusts them to protect themselves from her. Precautions have been taken. They know what to do. If they have to kill her in the midst of an Urge then so be it.

But more than that? Abandonment. Alde is terrified that she will be found to not be worth the trouble. She is trouble. She knows that. She wishes she wasn’t, but there’s nothing she can do about that. But she can hopefully make herself useful enough to… make up for being herself so much trouble. Even without the Urge, she's going to be a magnet for trouble for the rest of her life anyway, just for being a Bhaalspawn. She'll make up for it. She promises.

What is Alde’s alignment?

True Neutral-to-Neutral Good. Alde is largely a passive observer in her own life. She doesn’t have any strong moral opinions, (having just been born yesterday, after all,) but she has good instincts. She wants to return the kindness she has received, but she doesn’t really go out of her way for anyone who hasn’t already endeared themselves to her. (This is, admittedly, a very low bar to achieve. One kind word. One.)

[briebysabs]

Wait. Wait y’all. Is mochijun actually a fan of RGU? Bc hold on, and I’m probably going crazy, but lemme draw you in. And this will contain some RGU spoilers. Let’s start with Noé, I think he has some similarities with Utena. You might be like “Well, Utena is a naive, straightforward, pure-hearted character. It’s not that hard to share those characteristics.” Fair but think of it this way. Both Utena and Noé are “outsiders”pulled into the main story, the play if you will bc of an object of interest.

Whether it’s the rose ring or the Book of Vanitas. They are essentially anomalies that leave their impact and revolutionize people’s lives/way of thinking by being a kind person. Both of them encounter their partners almost like fate. Now I don’t know what Vanitas and Anthy have in common other than the need to be “saved” (whatever that entails) as well as being painted the witch or symbol of misfortunate by the world. Only being vulnerable and learning to reach out by being with Utena/Noé. But notice another thing, y’all ain’t gonna believe this. In the last episode of RGU, Utena fails to hold onto Anthy and their hands slip. Her last words in the tv series is I’m sorry Anthy I couldn’t be a prince.

I couldn’t save you.

GUYS PLEASE WTFF

RGU and VnC break the 4th wall to explain how these are characters, these are assigned roles. RGU has princes and princesses, VnC has observers and a narrator. We go through each “Act” of this tale. They portray the shift of adolescence into adulthood. Vanitas is 18, Noé is 19. I guess another thing Vanitas has with Anthy is growing up fast, both were shoved into the world of adults and thus believe they know how the system works. A pessimistic view of life, although thankfully Vanitas is not in eternal suffering. And we all know how much mochijun loves her flower symbolism, symbolism in general and honestly her art gives the same vibes as RGU. That sensual, like drop of eroticism idk how to describe it but you get my point. I don’t think it’s on purpose obviously but it’s cool to note. Do I think all this is intentional? Bc mochijun hasn’t come out and say she was inspired in some ways by RGU. I just made a couple connections, there might be more I can’t think of at the moment. But I think it’ll be really cool if it was.

Finally, we all got our time loop theories about VnC. RGU is a loop I’m just saying. Also I think this is kinda funny and interesting. The whole thing is this shojo manga au where Jeanne dresses up in boy’s uniform to school.

Dominique Saionji, prince of the school.....okay.

[lieutenantselnia]

Okay this is a bit of a different post, but I've been obsessed with this book for months and honestly, for me it was a one of a kind experience, and I feel like I just need to spread the word because it's terribly underrated and deserves so much more.

So, sometime last year, I came across the book "Alf" by Bruno Vogel - I don't even remember exactly how or where I found it, but my old interest in the early 20th century history somehow sparked up again a few months prior, so I probably stumbled upon it while researching about something related. It took a while until I got my hands on it, I really wanted a physical copy, but those seem hard to come by, so I eventually gave in and bought the e-book. The following paragraphs may contain spoilers, so if you want to experience the book without those, please stop here and go read it.

The book tells the story of Felix and Alf, two teenage boys growing up in Wilhelmine Germany at the dawn of World War I. They meet at Felix' new school after his family moved to a new city and quickly become friends, and not long after, lovers. It ends tragically for them though for them though, as the conventions of their time don't allow a relationship like theirs.

What got me so intrigued with this book other than being interested in the time period in general, was the fact that it is a vehemently anti-war and very openly queer story published in 1929. The story itself is fictional, but in parts inspired by the author's own background. Bruno Vogel, a gay man himself, was a volunteer in World War I, like so many other young men at the time, but the horrifying experiences that were so different from the glamorous stories told at home only made him become a firm pacifist. This book is almost 100 years old, but in my opinion it doesn't feel like that at all because so many of the topics that are talked about - and criticised - are still very much relevant today. That doesn't mean it's perfect, and of course you have to take into consideration that the author simply couldn't have all the knowledge we have today, but I think there were many books far less progressive published in later decades as well. Some of the topics are for example criticism of blind nationalism, the hypocrisy of religion (this was one where I could especially relate to the protagonist), sexuality and masturbation (in regard to the latter also heavy criticism of the shame and outright fear spread by religious authorities), homophobia (sexual acts between men were illegal at the time as per §175), among others. I think this quote I translated from the author's German Wikipedia page summarises it quite well:

"Alf is an anti-militaristic youth novel directed against the zeitgeist of the Weimar Republic, which gives expression to the unmitigated hatred of a pacifist against the authorities of any observance. It is the work of an opponent of war, and it is more: Alf fights against all regimentation, against that of conscience, conviction, religion, friendship and the body. Vogel castigates everything that has outraged him up to the time of writing: a petit-bourgeois, narrow-minded home, an obdurate school, religion and bourgeois morality."

Above the cover of the most recent publishing edition (also those that I own), with a photo of the author himself as a young soldier in World War I.

I absolutely love this book, and it also absolutely broke my heart. I already kind of knew what would happen as many online book stores basically already tell the ending in the description, but actually reading it in detail, and still hoping alongside the characters with every page even though I knew it was to no avail - to describe it in a way that fits the story, it felt like I was being stabbed with a bayonet right through the heart. I don't remember the last time a book made me cry this hard. I'm someone who sometimes struggles with showing emotional reactions like crying (even if I want to), but it just touched something deep inside me that made the dam break.

I absolutely recommend reading this book. It's tragic, but some parts also really made me laugh, and Felix and Alf are the sweetest. I already know I'll cry again, when I re-read it, and yet I can't wait. If you understand German, I'd definitely recommend reading the original. Also if you have the means to please buy the book from a store or lend from a library to show that there's interest in it because it's criminally underrated. However, there are also e-book versions to be found online in both German and English (e.g. on Anna's Archive). It's not a long read (barely 250 pages), and I really think it deserves more attention.

I could go on talking about this book and maybe I will in another post, but I'm finishing this one with the closing quote of the book as said/written by the protagonist Felix. I kid you not when I say this sentence alone is already brings tears to my eyes again:

»Ich will mitkämpfen gegen Bosheit und Dummheit, mithelfen, daß andere Menschen nicht, wie wir beide, aus Unwissenheit so Schweres durchmachen müssen. Das verspreche ich dir, Alf.« »I will join in the fight against evil and stupidity, I will do my part so that no one else is forced by ignorance to go through the hard times the two of us went through. I promise you that, Alf.«

[whumpsmith-participates]

AI-less Whumptober 2024

Day 15 - waterboarding

Tags/CW: torture, inexperienced whumper, begging

Charles Breckenridge was kidnapped again. Or, actually, this was one of the first times, as it happened earlier on the timeline than the last time I told you about Charlie. This time he wasn't knocked out in a sudden car wreck. Instead, he knew exactly what was going on before it happened, only he was unable to get away in time after he realised it.

This time, the driver who claimed to be filling in for a co-worker who had come down with the flu turned out to be his kidnapper, driving him into a secluded alley and suddenly assaulting him with a syringe filled with some kind of sedative...

They kept him tied to a chair and blindfolded. In hindsight that made sense. Charlie would also want to protect his identity if he was doing something illegal like kidnapping someone and holding them hostage for ransom. Either way he could only really rely on sounds, which did tell him quite a lot.

There was only two of them. And it was obvious which of the two was in charge. He was older, more cruel, and generally unpleasant. The other one wasn't exactly better. He sounded younger, got pushed, smacked and ordered around by the older one, and somehow seemed okay with it all.

Charlie never learned their names. They were careful to refer to each other specifically by something that wasn't easy to identify. The older one just demanded to be called 'sir' and he just called the younger one 'kid.'

Charlie spent most of his time with the kid. He didn't really make for a lot of interesting conversation. Avoiding answering almost all his questions, but when he did they just concerned Charlie about the kid's wellbeing...not to mention his own.

He warned Charlie how bad his partner could treat people. Seemed to almost relish in describing some of the horrific things he could do, but Charlie couldn't see his face, so he wasn't too sure how accurate that observation was. Besides, if the kid enjoyed all of it, why would he give advise on how to avoid getting hurt?

It happened after his first night with them. The kid was escorting a blindfolded Charlie back to his chair after a bathroom visit, both of them overhearing the older one on the phone.

"Change of plans? What do you mean change of plans? .....No of course I'd rather keep the cops out of this, but if I can't chop anything off, what else am I supposed to send? ......of course I now a way, just know it'll cost ya extra!"

Charlie stopped walking as he was starting to get an idea of what was being discussed.

"W-what is he talking about?"

"Hush. You'll be okay." the kid just said, "Chair's behind you. Just sit down."

"Will I?" Charlie asked quietly, carefully lowering himself until he was sure he was indeed sitting on the chair. "Because it sounds like he wants to torture me!"

"Just don't make any smart comments," the kid said, his voice barely a whisper, "stick to 'no sir' or 'yes sir' and he'll go easy on you—"

"Kid..."

Charlie couldn't help but to jump as the older one was suddenly standing a lot closer to them. He could hear the click of a lighter, followed by the penetrative scent of smoke and tobacco.

"What'd I tell you about too much chatting with the hostage?"

"You always have a lot to say about that— Ow!"

It sounded like the older one settled the kid with a decent smack, and it got him to quiet down while the older man stepped closer to Charlie from the smell of it.

"Aren't you the lucky one, Mr Breckenridge?" he said, "Apparently someone tipped off the police, so we need to give your parents a lil nudge, but my client insists you don't have to sacrifice any digits just yet."

"P-police?" Charlie stammered, paling at the man's words, "T-they wouldn't tell! This has to be a mistake!"

"It doesn't matter who snitched," the man said, "someone did and now it's up to you to inspire mommy and daddy to transfer the cash faster. Understood?"

Charlie wanted to protest more, but he remembered the kid's advise and decided to play along in the hopes that he would just have to film a ransom video.

"Y-yes, sir..."

"Attaboy!" the man said, thankfully stepping away. "Grab the ropes, kid. We're tying him to the table— Oh and get the jacks from the van."

"...sir?"

"You'll see what we'll use them for. Go on."

"W-what are you going to do to me?" Charlie shakily asked, "I-I thought we would just film me talking to the camera..."

"We'll do that after," the man said, "gotta make sure the tears are real first."

"I-I can get you real tears!" Charlie pleaded, "J-just give me a second!"

"You'll get plenty of seconds." The man said, "Besides, it's a good teaching moment. Now get up."

"T-teach what?" Charlie asked breathlessly.

The man didn't reply. He simply grabbed a painful hold on Charlie's arm and forced him to stand up, yanking him—presumably—towards the table.

"About time. Help me tie him to the table."

"N-no! Please!" Charlie shouted, starting to sob a bit.

"Oh look, you can cry on command," the man said.

"What are you going to do to him?" the kid asked, having apparently returned.

"We are going to tie him to the table and then you are going to learn something new," the man said.

"S-sir...?"

"Shut up and hold him down for me."

It seemed Charlie's struggled and protests were completely ignored as the rope tying is wrists behind his back was cut and he was promptly manhandled onto the table. His hands were forced above his head, large hands pinning him down, carefully replaced by smaller hands.

Charlie tried to struggle, desperately trying to pull his arms free so they wouldn't do whatever they had planned for him. But after a moment a new, coarse, rope was wrapped around his left wrist and pulled tight, before it was yanked towards one of the corners of the table. Then they repeated the process on his right hand, spreading his arms from one corner of the table to the other.

"Okay, now stop him from kicking."

"Easy for you to say..."

Feeling the kid's hands on his legs, Charlie instinctively began kicking, managing to get a lucky hit in. He only vaguely registered his foot colliding with the kid's stomach, but he was too busy sobbing and pleading to apologise as he pulled against the ropes binding his wrists.

"Really?" the older man commented as the kid appeared unsuccessful in pinning their hostage down.

After a deep sigh, his large hands caught and pressed down on Charlie's knees, reducing his kicking before landing a painful blow to his thigh with his elbow, probably leaving a nasty bruise.

"Knock it off!" he snapped, only just audible over Charlie's pained cry. "Don't just stand there, tie his legs!"

"P-please! Just let me go!" Charlie begged as his legs were slowly pulled apart and stretched towards the remaining corners with coarse rope wrapped around his ankles.

"That's not how this works, you know that," the man said mercilessly.

"I did everything you asked!" Charlie pleaded, "I behaved! Why are you doing this?!"

"Because it's never your own actions that influence your life now, is it?" the man simply replied, before stepping away and tightening the four ropes holding Charlie in place.

Charlie tried to struggle, but the more he pulled against the ropes, the more they dug into his skin. Bruising his delicate wrists to the core, though that was the least of his worries right now. The man and the kid seemed to ignore him for now. The former being too busy bossing the latter around.

"Okay, now I'll lift the table on this side, and you're gonna put the jacks underneath each leg. We want him at an angle."

"Why, sir?"

"So he doesn't die."

"DIE?!" Charlie sobbed.

"You're not gonna die." the man said, "No on my watch at least..."

"I-I don't believe you!" Charlie cried, "Just let me go!!!"

"Can't we gag him for this?" the kid suddenly piped up, much to Charlie's chagrin.

"Unfortunately not." the man said, beginning to use the jacks to lift the table further, until Charlie felt like he was about to slide off.

"Okay, that should do it." the man decided, "Now we'll need a cloth and water."

"Oh..." the kid slowly said, as if something only now dawned on him, "that's what you wanna do."

"No," the man said, "that's what you are going to do."

The kid groaned in response, his footfalls slowly subsiding as he walked off.

"W-what are you having him do?" Charlie asked, his voice not much more than an anxious whimper.

"You'll see— In a manner of speaking, of course."

Charlie whimpered and weakly pulled against the ropes, hoping there would finally be some give, but all he accomplished was to tighten them, pulling them deeper into his raw skin. Though, soon that was the least of his worries, as it sounded like the kid returned with the requested supplies. All but literally dragging his feet.

"Do I have to?" he asked.

"Did I tell you to do it?" the man countered.

"Y-yea, but—"

"No buts. You do as you're told and that's final."

"Yes, sir..."

"P-please...please don't do this..." Charlie begged.

"Ignore him," the man instructed, "you know he'll be fine if you do this right."

"But I've never done this before," the kid argued, not instilling a lot of confidence.

"You've seen me do it plenty of times," the man said, "see one, do one, teach one — as they say in medical school."

"They don't teach waterboarding in medical school..."

"W-WATERBOARDING?!" Charlie sobbed loudly, only to be ignored once more.

"Stop stalling and do as you're told," the man said.

"N-no! Please! Let me go!"

"It'll be over before you know it," was the only comfort the kid offered, before draping something soft over Charlie's face. Then he clamped his hand over his mouth, keeping him still and silent while the older man gave further instructions and pointers.

"It's better if you grab him by the hair to hold him still. And then you just pour until he needs a breather."

"H-how do I know when he needs a break?" the kid asked, switching his grip from Charlie's face to his hair.

"P-please...."

"You can take an educated guess," the older man just said.

Charlie could feel the grip on his hair tighten, before cold water was suddenly poured over the cloth covering his face. He promptly stopped protesting, pressing his lips together as he could feel the water dribble through the cloth. He writhed anxiously in his bonds, breathing carefully through his nose, only to realise that he was just sniffling up more water. He sputtered, coughed, and inhaled more water. Enough to choke him up, but not enough to flood his lungs to drown him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the cloth was suddenly lifted off his face, allowing him to breathe again. Charlie coughed violently between gasps of air, unable to form any coherent words, though he wanted to plead and beg.

"You could've gone a little longer," the man said, "but not bad for a first attempt."

The kid didn't respond to him. Not verbally at least. Charlie couldn't really bring himself to care. He just wanted it to stop.

"Please..."

He pleaded weakly, before descending into a coughing fit again.

"Now rinse and repeat, kid."

"N-no wait—"

The cloth and the water returned, as did Charlie's coughing and sputtering. He thrashed and writhed, but the ropes tying him down and the hand gripping his hair prevented him from fighting back too much.

Please! he thought, Please let it be over soon...

"That's enough. You don't want him to suffocate."

Sweet salvation. Charlie coughed so violently he finally managed to at least wrench his head free, lifting it up so he could try and cough up the bits of water he'd inhaled.

Please let that be it... Please let that be it... Please—

"I think once more for good measure," the man said, "and another time for fun."

"I'm not having fun, sir."

"I am~"

"P-please....not again..." Charlie weakly begged.

"Hasn't he had enough?" the kid asked.

"Do you want me to take over? I could go all day."

"N-no, sir, I'll do it!" the kid quickly said, "Just two more..."

It almost sounded as if those last words were supposed to be some kind of reassuring as he weaved his fingers through Charlie's damp hair before grabbing a tight hold and pulling his head back whilst putting the cloth back over his face. The thought of going through that again filled Charlie with dread, despite the attempt at comfort from his younger captor.

"No no no...."

@ailesswhumptober @lavndvrr for the dynamic duo ;)

Charlie belongs to @illustriousshadow

Masterlist Main account

Based on an RP I did with my homie.

[sailtomarina]

Matching Souls, Luna-style

Hermione didn’t believe in divination. Magic, yes, but fate? Destiny?

Rubbish.

Even though she’d seen the Hall of Prophecies for herself, was best friends with the “Chosen One,” it all seemed self-fulfilling. And true love? Soulmates? That seemed most dubious of all.

She believed in the love built on a firm foundation and grown over time, like the type of love she grew up seeing in her parents. She thought it was the type of love she had found in Ron. 

Until it wasn’t.

They said Slytherins were the snakes, when what Hermione should have really been watching out for were the two-faced badgers and sharp-taloned eagles. How dare Susan consult in Luna’s so-called love match reading; how dare Luna offer up Ron’s name as if he wasn’t already taken.

So here she was, sitting on a stupidly comfortable cushion inhaling incense she was certain did more to worsen her headache than open anyone’s “inner eye.”

“I’m so glad you accepted my offer for a reading, Hermione. Your match is somewhere out there, and we’re going to find them, whoever they are!”

She couldn’t help but glare at Luna’s outstretched hands dubiously where they lay palms up on the table. Hermione wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. Maybe a crystal ball, perhaps cards, or even tea leaves. How was Luna supposed to see anything—not that she believed she would—just by holding her hands?

“This will only work as well as you allow it to, you know. If you don’t believe, then, well, I won’t see anything.” Luna’s voice was calm in her reprimand. 

It was her bluntness that lessened Hermione’s armor. She couldn’t really see what Luna had to gain by pretending. She might not make a lot of sense much of the time, seeing things no one else could, but Luna did make some uncanny observations. Hermione attributed her accuracy to a keen spatial awareness.

Now that she stepped back to view her breakup from a distance, she realized that her and Ron had been doomed from the start, Luna’s involvement notwithstanding. Hermione had just been too close to see all the warning signs. She must have felt at least some of that beforehand to have accepted Luna’s invitation in the first place.

“I just…I mean, this isn’t what I expected. How are you meant to see anything without any tools?”

“It’s an old spell that’s been in my family for generations. I say the incantation, take your sacrifice, and then we see what we see.”

Bells rang in her head.

“What kind of sacrifice?”

Luna’s serene smile was at complete odds with the next words out of her mouth. “An offering of blood.”

“Luna Lovegood! Is this blood magic?” Hermione hissed, infuriated that her friend would even consider dragging her into this. Blood magic was strictly forbidden at Hogwarts.

“Yes, but that doesn’t make it inherently bad. Blood magic is some of the most ancient and powerful magic in existence.” Luna tilted her head as if carefully considering her next words. “I would have thought you would know that given your extensive research and time spent in the library.”

Hermione knew she didn’t mean it as an insult, but it certainly felt like she was being called out by the Ravenclaw. She felt as if her intelligence was being challenged, and Hermione did not back down from any battle of minds.

Luna was right. Hermione had read several texts describing this particular branch of magic as neutral as any other type of magic—what mattered was the caster’s intent. Blood magic could be used to protect just as well as harm. She knew from her own experience that there were regularly used spells that could be just as damaging, like obliviate.

She shoved the warnings about taboos and so-called dark magic into the box alongside all the other rules she’d broken over the years with Harry and Ron.

“Just tell me what to do.”

With a delighted giggle, Luna wiggled her fingers until Hermione placed her hands atop them. Closing her eyes, she muttered a string of words that made little sense to Hermione. She felt a change in the air, though, as if all noise had been sucked out of the room leaving only their own deep breaths and the pounding of her heart.

Luna smiled at the end of her incantation and let go with one hand to pick up her wand. She used the tip to gently flip Hermione’s free hand over and cut a shallow incision along the thumb with another spell. As a bead of blood threatened to drip, Luna pressed her own thumb against it and closed her eyes.

Hermione couldn’t deny the strange pressure surrounding them that she hadn’t felt before. Remembering Luna’s words from earlier, she, too, closed her eyes and wished with all her heart to open herself to the other girl.

“Thank you, Hermione. I’ve seen what I need to see.” Luna blinked heavily, as if waking from a deep sleep.

“Which was?”

“The good news is that your soulmate is here at Hogwarts.”

“They are?” The fact surprised Hermione. She felt like she knew most of the students at the school. How had she not felt anything in all this time? 

Luna nodded in a solemn manner before continuing. “He is. The bad news is that he’s in a dark place right now. What I can sense, however, is a passion for knowledge and competitive drive that rivals yours. You share a great capacity for love, though that fire can burn just as powerfully towards hate.”

Hermione frowned at the revelation. There weren’t many students that vied for the top rankings. She wasn’t particularly close to any of them, and a few she either had never spoken to or outright avoided.

“That doesn’t sound so bad, I guess, other than the part about “hate”. When you say “dark”, is that literal or metaphorical?” 

Luna nodded approvingly at her question. “Both. In fact, if you make your way up right now to someplace where you can see the stars best, I have a feeling you’ll get to meet him.”

A place where they could clearly see the stars…that sounded like the Astronomy Tower. Hermione hadn’t been up there in ages, not since before Dumbledore’s death. She likely wasn’t the only one. The deck was bound to be deserted at this hour, but maybe…

“I think I’ll test out your theory. Thanks, Luna!”

Hermione snatched up her bag to make her way towards the tower. She was in such a hurry, she missed Luna’s parting words. 

“You’re welcome! Tell Draco I said ‘hello’.”

She’d confront Luna loudly the next day over a bowl of creamy oats, the entirety of the Great Hall staring at them with mouths hanging open. Her explosion would earn Hermione  the ire of their mutual friends as they rallied to defend the mild-mannered Ravenclaw. What she did not do was actually talk to the true subject of her outburst, who watched everything unfold with his signature arched brow.

It wasn’t until a week later that Hermione and Draco would be forced into a class partnership, and then a month after that they conceded to studying together outside of the library. A couple of months later, Hermione grinded out an apology to the same girl she’d screamed to at the start of the term, with an amused Draco watching nearby.

Through it all, Luna maintained a saintly patience, forgiving Hermione before being asked. She already had her maid-of-honor speech all planned out and had recently gone on a date with her own soulmatch.

But she told Hermione none of these things, nor Draco. She did, however, compliment them on their radiant auras. They were truly magnificent now that they’d found one another—almost as pretty as Pansy’s eyes.

WC 1304

DHR Month Prompt: Week 2 - Bonds, September 8 - Soulmates

Cross-posted on AO3

I almost forgot about this after skipping the freebie day on the 7th (others still submitted, so make sure you check those out), so I felt a bit rushed writing this out late at night. It's rougher than I'd like, but I still hope you enjoy my take on todays theme!

[viridianevergarden]

You’ve probably posted about this before but I haven’t seen it…I am interested to hear an Elriel take on the “something sparked in just chest” line from the acosf bonus chapter. That language has been used by Sarah to describe the feelings between mates multiple times in her books. Why is this time different in your opinion?

Hi Anon, this is actually a really good question.

So as an elriel, I do know that my opinions might seem hella biased here but I’ll try to keep a neutral standpoint and be 100% honest with my thought process.

I actually haven’t posted about this whole sequence or this specific line yet so this will be the first. I might as well cover the whole thing.

Let’s start with reading the whole piece:

So Azriel woke up. It’s the morning after solstice, the morning after the slap in the face that was the “You will stay away from Elain” line. Instead of taking the necklace back to the jewelers on the square, he decided to descend the steps of the House. To the library.

Given the context of the initial line before the “spark” line, I think that Az was feeling some type of relief that Clotho agreed, essentially saying “yes, I will give it to her. She will be happy to have it, she deserves it.” (Kind of like an “oh thank god” moment.)

A spark of positivity to Clotho heeding his request at his insistence of giving it away. A spark of positivity in someone else having it. A spark of some mixed emotion rather, perhaps? It was definitely an emotion, but it’s been kept vague for us to determine. We don’t necessarily know if it is indeed positive or negative. Hell, we don’t even know if Az knows. (I’m thinking he doesn’t given it’s his POV and it’s referred to as “something”)

I personally don’t think it was romantically charged or magical in any type of way. I don’t think it had anything to do with the lightsinger theory either, at least not this specific spark line. Not with the current context.

Now this may seem far fetched but I think that Azriel came down with the intention of giving the necklace away, namebombing Gwyn in the process because she was the first person he ran into immediately after the fiasco. Of course she’d be the first person he thought of who just so happened to live in the library.

But even then, Azriel didn’t truly care who got the necklace, so long as it was taken off of his hands.

Observe:

“Look, I…” Az searched for the words, his voice becoming quiet. “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.”

He just wanted the necklace gone. Away from him. But you may ask, well why didn’t he just return it to the jewelers then?

If I put myself in Az’s shoes, taking into consideration how he sees himself and how he generally is, my thought process would be something like this:

“I’d rather someone have it than no one.”

“At least someone could put it to use.”

“I don’t want to return it, it’d be a waste.”

If I took that necklace back to the jewelers, I’d feel worse. It’d be humiliating. Not to mention the idea of, “if she doesn’t want it, and it hurts me too much to keep it, perhaps someone else could find better use for it.” That’s what it was, I think, that motivated him to give it away.

And so he did.

He left the library thinking of her reaction to getting the necklace and her eyes lighting up. Because it made him feel better to know that someone else would feel joy in receiving the gift with no strings attached. Thats why he explicitly stated that he wants the gift to be anonymously given.

And this small detail that I see a lot make note of:

“Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.”

When anything is described with the words “glow” and “quietly” together, I think of a soft glow, and a soft glow is typically something of comfort or provides comfort.

The image of someone’s joy in receiving a gift that he’s at a loss to do with comforts him. Gwyn or not, I think it’d be the same.

As for this particular spark line being related to other SJM couples in the ACOTAR universe as well as ToG and CC, I’m aware of its presence in all series. I’m aware of its weight that it holds and what it has eluded to before.

However…

This is a bonus chapter.

This is a bonus chapter from a limited edition version of ACoSF that cannot be bought anymore— that was then available to US only.

Most casual readers are unaware of this chapter’s existence. I know I was unaware until I stumbled upon ship discourse online. I read the books by myself then got online to see the fandom.

I was wondering “why ship Azriel with Gwyn??? That’s so random.” So I literally had to search online for this chapter after seeing mentions of a bonus chapter. I read it off of a google doc 😂.

Here’s the thing. Since this is an exclusive bonus chapter, SJM would not set up a whole new ship in it. Not to mention it’d seem rather sudden given what little moments we’ve seen of Azriel and Gwyn in each other’s presence that were worth the page space.

And also the specific “he wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend” comment in the chapter. I don’t think anything’s been set up. That supposed spark, I think, was just to show his mixed emotions about giving the necklace away.

And if it was in fact romantically charged, why put it in such an exclusive bonus chapter? I think it should’ve been a pivotal moment for all to see.

So that’s my current state of thinking. If I dawn upon anything else I’ll probably post about it and reblog this. I know I am most likely going to post about Az’s Shadows and their behaviors, at least what I think on them and how they revolve around Mor, Gwyn, Elain and music. Same thing with a Thing of Secret, Lovely Beauty. I’m still confused about that. Theres a million different takes for that.

But I hope this gives you some sort of answer that at least made sense? Lol.