#Personally concerned with the contents of this update actually complaining about it. And it was a single reply on a post.

[makerofmadness]

I decided for fun to show my dad (iranian and muslim) the stuff about the crob update and ask for his thoughts and the fact that he wasn't offended by it either had me convinced that the outrage it's been getting has been primarily by people who aren't middle eastern or muslim

btw I have the screenshots:

I'll update when I ask my mom for her thoughts too but for now: please, don't just throw around terms like that at innocent things, you only end up weakening their impact and people will take you less seriously when something actually offensive shows its ugly head

edit: got one reblog in fudging December and like Can we please move on this stuff is long over I just want to enjoy the funny centipede lady that I kinda kin and tbh I was a bit TOO defensive during this but I still feel like people didn't handle this well like this is basically just like. If you feel the need to boycott the entirety of cookie run for just one update but can be an encanto fan despite Aladdin also being a Disney movie (and being worse than the Yogurca stuff in my opinion) as well as being made by westerners while CR is an eastern game (albeit Korean specifically and not like Middle eastern) then like. I question your priorities and why you're being harder on this game. I guess. Idk maybe I'm just an idiot I'm not some big media analysis expert (but I do have my own problems with Yogurca as a setting don't get me wrong I didn't really talk about this much but. Like I'm never gonna try to claim it's perfect I just don't think it's unsalvageable or that anyone who likes the characters is bad)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Some thoughts about the KP video and Kate’s statement today. (I initially put these as comments to another post.) These thoughts may be controversial and may be unpopular, but it is what I think and there may be others who feel this way too or who have similar thoughts and are looking for a place to discuss.

So first, this video is not unprecedented. It follows similar videos made for their 10th anniversary and the coronation (I believe there may be an Earthshot video as well), which suggests that KP’s media strategy commemorates significant personal occasions with film like this. What is unprecedented is Kate narrating - I believe this is the first “televised speech” she has ever given. She has given speeches before but I don’t think those were “broadcast” like this one was.

There’s been some commentary about how PR-ish and slick the video feels, to which I also agree. In my comments on an earlier post, I said that the video is responding to criticism and concerns that KP staff likely heard all summer, meant to reassure people of Kate’s status. It sucks that they had to do this because Kate made it clear from the beginning that her health is private. I think they chose a highly-stylized and edited video like this (instead of personal home videos) to help with their privacy. By having someone else film them, they can still protect their kids’ personal selves while opening the window into what “our own home” actually looks and feels like.

In my opinion - and I realize this could be fighting words - it feels like the emotions people may or be feeling about this video comes from how unexpected it was. I’ll give them that point - it was unexpected and very touching to hear Kate’s own words in her own voice narrating clips of her family in their ordinary private lives that she and William have been very protective over.

But it was not unexpected that there was an update on her status. It’s consistent with KP’s pattern of providing quarterly (or seasonal, depending on how you look at it) updates on Kate’s status. After the first announcement in January, we received updates in March (beginning of Spring) and in June (beginning of summer). Now we’ve had an update at the beginning of fall/autumn.

We’ll probably get another one in December for the beginning of winter, which will probably coincide with her Christmas carol service. Given Kate’s message today, I have a feeling that this year’s carol service may be themed around cancer charities, supporters, and patients and their families. (2021 and 2022 were also themed; I don’t remember if the 2023 service was themed.) And if the winter update isn’t for the Christmas carol service, it will definitely be for the holidays with perhaps a “new beginnings for a new year” kind of message.

I liked the video. I like that KP has updated their social media profiles and account pictures with new photos from the video. I don’t find it as emotional as others are, but that’s not a knock on anyone who is emotional about it. I do see it as a PR tool to counter criticisms and concerns that have been discussed all summer long, but I also see it as a genuine “thank you” from Kate for giving her the space, time, and privacy to focus on herself and her family. It was an extraordinary request that most people honored and so she thanked everyone in the most extraordinary of ways; a peek at what her family is like on their own time and in their own homes.

(Also, I’m warning all y’all now: there’s a very good chance the Christmas photo will come from one of these video filming sessions. I don’t want to hear anyone complaining about how upset they are we didn’t get any new exclusive content. We just got a 4 minute video!)

[magnuficent76]

All of M3ph1st0's prosthetics - A comprehensive summary.

Mephisto is disabled in multiple ways. It is also a huge nerd and a big transhumanism fan who happens to know about a lot of robotics. That all being said, they have augmented themselves in many ways. Here's all of them, going from the top [Content warning for discussion of organs, surgery and like. Slight body horror that doesn't make sense. Don't worry about it !]

Main functionality ones:

Arm and Legs – Self explanatory. They help him get to places and work on things, also the oldest ones out of all his works given they've just been consistently upgraded to better suit all his needs. Each limb has a name (Leonard, Leslie (legs), and Hal (Arm/hand)), and they all care dearly for their creator because even though it might be programmed into them, Mephisto doesn't just treat them as disposable tools. They also have tiny android forms for when they're not assisting 310 and are free to walk around/opinionate on anything they want to. Mephisto treats them better than it does an Average Person.

Spinal support — Another one that helps quite a bit. Standing up for too long or sitting down the wrong ways causes Mephisto a lot of pain, so they made a device to help them with remembering to take care of themselves in that regard. Enter, Simon: The spinal support bot that connects directly to their back through a simple mechanism around the back. Simon is divided in two parts– A small battery-bot that charges up everything, that can detach itself from the main component any time it runs low on juice and slither around if it wants, and the inbuilt structure, which is what forces Mrphisto's back to stay put together and pulls it back in case it slouches too much (happens Often).

Non-organic Organs — After getting literally brought back to life by A Curse, the shitty old magic from a thousand years ago didn't account for how organ failure would happen in case a body that was cold and lifeless came back swinging from the dead, and as such a lot of Mephisto's organs function weirdly/stop at random times. These were a necessity it didn't expect at first, but had to quickly figure out. They're mostly made of flexible synthetic material the body wouldn't reject, and took several dozens of attempts on other people to perfect before they could be inserted into its own body. Essentially just keep everything in function while also giving him some benefits he built into them, such as:

Being able to digest non-edible things through brand new stomach upgrade that now lines his insides with Bigger and Better acid that is only found in skags. And Mephisto now. No more tummy aches due to tummy now being made out of Actual Steel.

Heart now has extra pumps to help with weakness and fatigue without overpowering any functions. Also sounds a little weird whenever you press your head to its chest due to there being a Small Sized Engine in there

Awesome brain implant that doesn't allow for biological death to happen anymore through constant manipulation of grey mass and stimulation of neurons. and that has no ethical concerns attached to it. Don't worry about it too hard !

Full intestinal system update where most of it is replaced by a series of tubes that can continue functioning as normal with filtering and breaking down masses. And that body only complains Sometimes about.

Lung inserts that can distribute miniscule electricity pulses throughout the whole chest in order to keep them breathing and healthy. It was a doozy to install this one but hey, now breathing is finally automatic as it should be.

...And some others that aren't nearly as interesting, but that help nonetheless. How was Mephisto able to perform surgery on itself? The short answer is it didn't, its limbs did with help from a supercomputer on the feiling. Are its limbs qualified to do surgery? Who was the supercomputer? How many surgeries did it take to insert everything? Is there a lot of visible scarring for it? All great questions that you will never know the answer to because Mephisto will throw things at you if you ask them.

Lesser functionality ones.

Metallic throat insert — This one was mainly from paranoia of being choked or being bitten directly on the throat, but it doubles as many things. Not only does it protect Mephisto from attacks to the larynx and windpipe specifically, it's also got an in-built AAC device for communication even when the old vocal chords can't seem to muster anything up. Great for pissing off ventriloquists also.

Better Teeth that Don't Rot and Break due to Being Made Out Of Metal (Or just Upgraded Dentures / Jaw) — Self explanatory, I feel. Forgot to brush their teeth a lot during depressive periods and ran into many issues regarding that, and so decided the only way to get that fix was to get Better, Cooler teeth over those (once they got fixed up) that are retractable and can be made Sharper at a given brain command. Used to bite its tongue a lot due to this and it bled like a motherfucker, which Led to:

Tongue That Doesn't Hurt anymore — Again, self explanatory. Again, took a while to get used to, but ended up solving so many problems it didn't matter anymore. This one is more just a cover than a full-on replacement because that would hurt way too much and there was no guarantee it'd work for good without the original muscles. It did, but it was one of the scarier things Mephisto did to itself.

Now you might be thinking, "Magnus, that's an awful lot of things. How'd Mephisto get funding to do all that stuff? Or find material? Or even just do them in general, given they seem so far out of the realm of possibility?", and these are all pretty good questions, how did you know to ask them etc. But Let me try and answer them as much as possible without too many spoilers:

Mephisto works for anyone who gives it money. Sometimes its corporations (Whom they immediately steal info and material from also), sometimes it's individual people looking to buy things off their shop, sometimes its evil villains who need all sorts of machinery for their plans. He's not particularly picky with the source, so long as its consistent and upfront.

Refer to bullet point one. It is Stealing most of the time, but when it isn't, material is coming from either their own scavenging trips or from teams they specifically pay to find material and bring it to them.

Borderlands isn't real and the absurdity is part of what makes it one of my favorite things, but also, again. Supercomputer did it for them. It's probably fine !

[luthwhore]

Waaay too late to the party, wanted to write back when you made the post about the twitter thread complaining about possibility of Lex being redeemed and forgot 70% of what I was gonna say, but I agree. Beyond personal preference, my argument is that the big part of the character and his dynamic has always been the "You could've used your genius for good" tragedy, and that just doesn't work if he's written as the evilest man on Earth. Might as well talk how sad it is Darkseid ain't running a utopia. I get how that can get unfomfortable with "He's a BAD billionare instead of a good one, which would be the best thing ever", but I think it can just as easily be framed as "he chose to be a billionare instead of a scientist"-hell, the vigilante thing fits into that pretty well!

exactly!! and tbh the fact that lex isn't an irredeemable monster is honestly one of the most interesting things about him? lex seems himself as a hero and he wants to do good, but ultimately his own ego usually ends up getting in the way of it, because he's usually more concerned about how other people perceive him than the actual effects of his actions.

there are also only so many stories you can tell that are "superman vs a super evil guy who has a lot of money and keeps buying his way out of trouble" and eventually, it's going to get boring and repetitive, esp bc it's disheartening to see superman lose over and over again.

his story is far more interesting, imo, when there is some kind of emotional stake for superman. when you have a superman who sees a sliver of good in lex, no matter how small. that's part of why i like seeing stories where lex is contrasted with the joker, because lex -- at least when written well -- has standards and isn't usually interested in harming civilians.

(probably the thing that will make me groan and tune out of a lex story faster than anything is seeing him referred to as "a sociopath", both bc i feel like it's a gross misrepresentation of his character, and because I'm personally really tired of seeing personality disorders tossed around as pejoratives.)

i think it's also very telling that -- at least in my observations -- people who care deeply about superman lore tend to prefer pre-crisis and superman: birthright lex over the byrne-era, whereas most people who want lex to just be the evil CEO -- or worse, who want him to be "updated" into just being a musk parody -- tend not to be people who actually read his comics or engage with superman lore in any meaningful way.

there's a reason, imo, that most superman content from the 2000s onward has been trying to retcon lex to be either closer to his pre-crisis iteration or closer to smallville, and that's bc those are the versions of the character people actually... you know... like.

[golden-jeon-jungkook]

i'm sorry that happened to you :( i hope they were mature enough to tell you their gripes with you or your content before blocking you so then you'd actually know what you did wrong and learn from it. i know everyone is entitled to their own block button but in your situation, it just seems nasty.

the cc community in this fandom is getting smaller and smaller each day and instead of supporting one another, some cc just act immature and clique-y. y'all are fans as much as we are, y'know? you're not celebrities but some popular/big cc just act like they are—this goes to fanfic writers too.

hopefully you'll rise above this because as far as i'm concerned, you do nothing wrong on your blog!

No, I didn't get any explanation! But it is so easy to message me, and I will always respond. It was so shocking that a good friend to many popular bts gifmakers did it. She was the one who also complained about likes/reblogs ratio and not getting enough notes. So it is even more quiestinable to block a fellow gifmaker. I reblogged a lot from her before.

My english is bad, so it's hard for me to constantly write something in tags. I am bad at constantly reblogging a lot of posts, and I'm not always here: I check my dash for a little bit and leave. I'm still learning how this site works. Yes, my blog is 5+ years old. But I rarely updated it before. There are many things that I could have done better. So please, I'm begging everyone to write to me if I did something wrong like a mature person!

[heartbeatbookclub]

I feel like in general on this blog, I really do undersell exactly how private & introverted of a person I am used to be creatively, particularly in fandom spaces. When I say I've been entrenched in fandom for a long time, I am not joking. Despite this, you'd be hard-pressed to find most fandom content I produced until...well, until this blog!

In fact, unless you know me in real life, it's unlikely you've ever seen any art which I've posted OUTSIDE of this blog, which is saying something, because there is a LOT of it, both original, and for shitloads of different fandoms. I am, at my core, an artist, as pretentious as that sounds; I create ad nauseam.

Despite this, I very rarely post publicly. The few times I have created a public page to post art, it was incredibly infrequent. And most of them are deleted, now. In fact, this blog is possibly the first time I've made an online account for fan content (or art in general) that has achieved general notoriety anywhere, and it's incredibly fun, but it has made me painfully aware that there's something of a reason I deleted most of my public art accounts...(/lh)

But seriously, I keep a comically low profile, despite enjoying both creating and receiving praise for creating. Part of it has to do with the particular way inspiration strikes me (the periods where I don't post to this blog are mostly actually because I'm looking for proper vision, despite wanting to create) which is why my creation of these sorts of things is so infrequent, because I know most people (particularly artists) don't do that, and it can be very concerning or frustrating to anyone paying attention.

It also creates a rather daunting prospect of creating something "good enough to share", which I have been increasingly working on not giving a shit about. And sometimes building relationships with people who sort of expect you to post/message them often, because that's the only way they know you're alive. I barely even talk to my irl friends as often as some people want to over the internet with me. It's wild.

I'm not complaining about the popularity of this blog by any means, nor how people have been interacting with it, I mostly just wanted to share that despite how it might look, it's actually significantly more normal for me to post basically nothing for months at a time and then have a burst of inspiration leading me to make like 3 posts that leave people raving for a week, then disappear of the face of the earth completely.

Like, you wanna talk how I normally am with art, I have piles of old Undertale doodles & fanfiction, which almost no one has seen, and I probably won't ever post again. I have art for a fandom I was in for maybe a week and have never done anything for again. I have drawn YouTubers I no longer watch. I have OCs which I haven't thought about in actual years. I have world concepts I literally used for a single drawing and nothing else. I have Omori fics and drawings I literally never posted publicly. There are probably people waiting on an update to a fic I wrote 6 years ago (when I was 15).

You wanna talk me in fandom spaces? There are people I know from my Undertale fandom days who I'm surprised are still posting. I know nearly every major artist in the Omori fandom on some sort of personal note (I'm still in a Discord with some of them), and they're the people who've seen my unpublished Omori art/fics. I would post stuff maybe once every month or two in that server. Most of them probably don't even realize they know me.

I know fandom drama I didn't even care about when it was happening.

For the better part of my life I've been the fandom equivalent to a mysterious stranger, blowing into a fandom maybe once a week, then once a month, then never again, people forgetting I was even ever there. There are friends I've made over social media who I've not seen or spoken to in an actual decade.

I just live my life. I make shit. Sometimes I'm active in a particular space on social media for a while. I meet some new people. I am cheesed to meet them. The case goes cold. I continue living my life. I go elsewhere.

I think this is both vitally important to understand on the internet, especially in a fandom sense (The Internet is not your life, please remember that you can literally turn your computer off and leave) and also a really bad habit I have that, while somewhat amusing, means that by nature a lot of the new friendships I make are temporary.

Also, if ever we message each other and I stop talking to you, that's not because I'm mad or forgot you or something; if I don't have anything to say I don't say anything. Small talk is my bane because it feels dishonest. Offer to play TF2 or Overwatch with me or something.

Now that I'm thinking about it, this is actually generally applicable to all online spaces I'm in, which might make the entire thing seem a little silly... There are people I've met on online games like Roblox, or old flash games, or old websites where you can PLAY those flash games, who I just disappeared from one day. A lot more of my life than I thought is intrinsically ephemeral...hm.

It's to the point that a lot of people know who I am but don't realize who I actually am because my name is sorta generic, so they don't make the connection. I make a lot of jokes about it on my main but most people don't even realize I'm The Mind Electric Guy who made the big mash-ups and also the Catboy Electric. And Johnny Johnny Electric but we don't talk about that one.

There are times where I'll have people in my comments/messages going "wait YOU'RE THAT GUY? YOU MADE THAT?!?!" about something completely unrelated, and i'm just like "yeah i was bored on a saturday". I'm like the Neil Cicierega of obscure internet/niche fandom bullshit.

Wait, so I'm like Neil Cicierega. And I've been told I resemble him more than once, so maybe that's fitting.

As a reward for making it through my silly ramblings, here's a little proof in the pudding! Here's some incredibly old DDLC fanart from my initial obsession to a little later, not exactly in chronological order. You can really see my improvement as an artist, which is actually pretty funny, because imitating some other DDLC fanartists is specifically how I started getting better at drawing people

These are incredibly old! You can tell, because they look like SHIT! I didn't really know a lot about how to draw people at this point in time, and what became my style was super poorly defined here! I have some other super old art which really shows off how bad i was at drawing people, particularly in the waist. Believe it or not, this is a better showing than most others around this time.

Hey, at least they're recognizable, right?

This right here, this is the exact moment where drawing faces started to click for me. I still think this is one of my best showings from this particular time period, even though it's still got a lot of line jank, and I'm pretty blatantly ripping from a different artist (who no longer has an online presence, so weh, have at it). I still really like this drawing, and a lot of the experimentation that was on this page.

also, you can see me trying to draw boobs for the first time! ain't that a sight!

These are a weird period where I'm drawing a lot of different things on the same sketchbook page just to fill them up, which...I mean, I guess I should be proud I used to draw that much! They certainly do look cool, too. This image of Sayori in an Adidas tracksuit is directly referenced from a picture of a Sayori cosplayer I found on Instagram once upon a time. The @ you see pictured there is my old private instagram--you can try to follow it, but I doubt you're going to get anywhere!

I think a big problem you see in a lot of these is just that I'm uncertain in my lines, even in sketching and doodling, which is still a problem I struggle with sometimes. Also I don't really get how clothes work. But this is significantly better than how some of my old art used to look like, so I'm glad for that!

Can you identify all of the other pictured characters? There are 3 musicians and 2 YouTubers present!

I drew this in 8th grade? I think? These might be slightly out of order. I really liked drawing Sayori.

I really didn't like how this turned out when I first did it. I don't often do digital pieces and even less often work in color, but when i do, they tend to take a lot of time and effort. I think this is definitely rough around the edges, but the amount of work I put in to really make this pop is something I enjoy. Just wish I'd spent longer on those hands...

Remember how I said I used to really vibe with MC x Sayori?

Yeah.

Here's some more, including a more fleshed out MC design. I think I did this my senior year of high school?

And this, dear viewers, is a Sayori I doodled from memory roughly a year ago.

I didn't really have much direction here, I just wanted to talk about this stuff, and I had these that I wanted to share. These drawings were all from roughly 2018-2023.

[moonlit-jeno]

friends (m.)

pairing: lee jeno x fem reader

genre: explicit sexual content | omegaverse | heat sex | unprotected sex | some name calling

words: 3.6k

don’t like don’t read :)

“Your heat’s coming up.” Jeno says, point blank in between bites of his apple. You just nod, taking a break from your notes to side eye him. It’s not odd for him to know intimate details of your life- you do make sure to keep him updated on your cycle just so that he can send you the notes for the days you miss - but it’s not exactly a common subject for the two of you. “Who are you spending it with?”

There are still 13 powerpoint slides for you to grind through, but you figure a small break won’t hurt. Might as well use the conversation topic for something good, aka a reason to slam your laptop shut. You turn to Jeno, giving your best friend your full attention, and take the iced coffee right out of his hand. He doesn’t protest. “No idea. Would call Jaemin but he’s ‘found the one’ or something, so I’ll probably just spend it by myself.”

“By yourself?” Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as if you’ve just admitted to committing a sin. It’s not like the concept isn’t unheard of, there’s a market full of toys to help you through it. “Isn’t that dangerous?” You shrug and take a sip of the coffee, offering him your smoothie in exchange. He takes a sip and then bites down on your straw. His entire face scrunches and he yanks his face away from the beverage. He pulls the straw up, inspecting the now soggy and dented object with disgust. “Fuck, what is this made out of?”

“Paper.” You huff a laugh out through your nose, taking your smoothie back. “And I mean, it’s not any more dangerous than spending your heat with the wrong person. Plus, my heats get kind of… intense.” If Jaemin sleeping for three days straight and limping after is anything to go by, both parties take the short end of the stick. You’d felt so bad after and apologized to him profusely, but he had just thrown you his signature dazzling grin and told you that drowning in pussy was exactly the way he envisioned himself dying. He definitely didn’t complain about the brownies you’d baked him as a ‘thank you’, though.

“Spend your heat with me.” The bold request has your brain malfunctioning, at a loss for where to even start reacting to his statement. You just stare at him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while he returns the gaze earnestly. “Look, it makes sense, right? I know you better than anyone, and you already trust me. Plus if they’re as intense as I’ve heard they are, you need someone there.”

You frown, opening your laptop up and staring blankly at the screen just to avoid having to look at Jeno. It does make sense to have him there with you, and it’s not like he’s the worst person to have sex with. Plenty of people around campus have delighted in talking about their nights with Jeno, dreamily telling you how lucky you are to have him and falling deaf to your insistence that the two of you aren’t like that. Plus, you’re not blind and even if you’re not the cute couple everyone thinks you are, you can admit that he’s hot.

“Wait, hang on. What do you mean ‘heard’ about? What shit is Na Jaemin saying?” Jeno’s shoulders shake with his laughter at your sudden concern. “I mean, he didn’t say anything, but that was kind of the problem. He didn’t show up to practice for like a week and when he finally did, he looked like he’d been mauled. Coach had to bench him.”

Your heart drops slightly at hearing that Jaemin’s soccer had been affected. He hadn’t told you that. “Oh.” The guilt must show on your face because Jeno is quickly soothing you, making sure to tell you that they all found Jaemin’s state funny. “Okay, wait. Wouldn’t you have the same problem if you help me?”

“It’s off-season. So, what do you say?” Jeno waits for your response expectantly, eyes soft, curious. “You can say no, y/n. I don’t want to pressure you at all, I’m just letting you know that it’s an option.” “I’ll think about it.” And you do. A concerning amount.

You spend that night tossing and turning, trying and failing to shut your brain off. Worries about ruining your friendship and about hurting Jeno bounce around your brain no matter how much you try to stop thinking about it. What if something bad happens during it? What if you never talk again? And worst of all is your brain telling you that he doesn’t actually want you specifically, he just wants to be with an omega in heat. You’re just convenient. 

That thought actually makes you cry and you wrap your blankets even tighter around yourself, sobbing weakly into your pillows. In an effort to distract your wandering mind you grab for your phone, opening instagram to find an influx of dm’s from Jeno. It calms you a bit, the messages ranging from cute dogs to absolutely cursed memes, and you smile softly at the reminder that he’s your best friend, and that he definitely cares about you. Biting your lip, you hesitate for only a few moments before typing out a “you can help”, hitting send before you can second guess it. You lock your phone and set it face down on the dresser, thankfully finding sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

It’s hot when you wake up, clothes clinging to your skin uncomfortably. Peeling your shirt off only gives you relief for a moment but then the sticky heat is back full force. You whimper in misery, trying to snuggle back into your bed for at least some comfort, but you find that the corner of your fitted sheet has come up, the rest of your blankets on the floor. There’s only one pillow near you and it’s soaked in sweat. You panic slightly, frantically yanking your sheets back onto the bed and trying to fluff them up as much as possible, only calming down once the bedding has been fixed to your liking. Only once you’ve settled down in the plushness of your blankets do you have a moment of clarity.

“Oh shit.” You shoot up and search for your phone, dropping it once before finally managing to open the correct app. There’s a few messages from Jeno that you don’t bother looking at, going straight for the ‘call’ button. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” He sounds groggy, like he’s just woken up, and a flash of heat runs through you at the low tone. “Why are you calling me at 5 a.m?”

You manage to stop fantasizing about your best friend long enough to choke out the word “Heat.” It comes out pathetic and whiny and you pause to clear your throat, trying to keep a clear head as well. “I’m sorry, my heat came early and I wanted to call you but you can go back to bed, I didn’t realize-”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll be over in 10.” Jeno cuts off your rambling with a swear, some rustling in the background accompanying his words. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, setting the phone down and curling up in bed, trying not to focus on how agonizingly slow the time is passing.

Jeno’s looking down at his shoes when you open the door, kicking idly at the door mat and fidgeting with the bag in his hands, though his head snaps up when he notices you. The smile on his face falters when he inhales, turns a little strained as he gets a taste of your heat, and you honestly give him props for the amount of restraint he has. It’s definitely more than you have, at least, because you’re on him the second he’s inside. He ends up sandwiched between you and the door, bag dangling precariously in one hand while he envelopes you in his strong arms. You don’t (can’t) do anything besides bury your face in his chest and whimper, knowing exactly what you want but being too needy and fuzzy to remedy it.  

“Jeno, it hurts.” You whimper and lift your face to nose along the skin just above the collar of his shirt, finding that while the skin to skin contact helps, it doesn’t fully relieve the heat scorching through you, the dull ache screaming for Jeno to take you already. “Please…” He holds you closer to his chest, encasing you fully in his scent, and picks you up bridal style. “I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

Being around Jeno does help to ease your stress, but it also serves to make you needier. The warm scent that you’ve grown to associate with the man is stronger than you’ve ever smelled it and it’s making you lose your mind more and more by the second. You’re worried that you’re drooling by the time he sets you down on your bed. He pauses to drop the bag he’s holding on the floor, and then he’s on top of you, strong arms caging you in.

The first kiss is soft, chaste. It would be cute if you weren’t so fucking needy, but you are and it’s just not enough. Unsatisfied, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug, nipping at his bottom lip and tilting your head to the side to get a deeper angle. A groan rumbles in his chest and he returns the kiss with more intensity, trying to take control again. You don’t let him, even if every instinct in your body is screaming at you to just submit.

Jeno shifts on top of you, scooting so that he can fully lay down between your legs. You wrap your limbs around him on instinct, pulling him as close as you possibly can and- oh. The close proximity means that you feel everything when he grinds down, and the feeling of having him so close to where you need him has any semblance of control that you had draining out of your body. You gasp pitifully, annoyance clawing at you from the amount of fabric blocking you from what you want.

“Please,” You almost sob, tugging at his shirt while trying to grind your lower half against his, the pressure of his cock against your center making your eyes roll. Jeno pulls back to yank his shirt off and then he’s back, hands sliding down your body to your panties, tugging the fabric down as far as he can before he growls in frustration and just rips the fabric in half. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” Jeno moans in awe, breaking the kiss yet again to marvel at your pussy. “Bet I could just slip right in.” He drags his fingers through the slick on your upper thighs, eyes glued between your legs. You’re just about to complain when he finally presses his fingers into you. The initial relief has you moaning sweetly, though it quickly turns to impatient pleas for his cock. You clench around his fingers, reaching a hand down to palm over where he strains against his sweats.

“I need you to fuck me.” You beg, looking at him with what you hope is a convincing expression. “Please Jen, I need you.” “You have me.” He promises you, flicking his wrist faster, curling his fingers just right. “I’m right here baby.” It’s sweet, and under normal circumstances it would be enough, but right now it’s not what you need and the frustration has you on the brink of tears.

You buck your hips and try to arch up as if it’ll magically make him slip in, but Jeno remains as patient and controlled as ever. It’s too hot and every part of your body is screaming for him to fuck you, for him to claim you, and his refusal is killing you. “Alpha please, I need you.”

He absolutely snarls, pinning down your wriggling body with one hand around your throat. The other hand stays between your legs where it continues to strike pleasure into every single nerve ending you have, adding to the fire already coursing through your veins. “What you need is to take what your Alpha’s giving you. You’re not in charge here, okay?” With his face pressed so close to yours you have no choice but to make direct eye contact, staring straight into the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen. His pupils are blown out so wide that his eyes are almost black. Unable to tear your eyes away and as if in a trance, you find yourself nodding. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. Now listen to your Alpha and cum.”

It happens almost instantaneously, as if his words were directly connected to a trigger, your body exploding just as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your entire body locks up, mind going blank as the immense pleasure takes hold of you, leaving you clawing at his back and screaming silently into the air. 

The orgasm only serves to thicken the haze in your mind, clouding any thoughts that aren’t related to the Alpha above you and his cock. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally come back into focus enough to make out your surroundings, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jeno with his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence off of his digits. You’re burning so hot, so much hotter than you think you’ve been before, and it’s hard for you to function. All you can think about is his cock.

“Please,” You beg, swatting at him weakly. “Alpha please, I need you so bad.”

There’s no way that Jeno isn’t being affected by the pheromones clouding the air, but he manages to appear unbothered, his actions rough but nowhere near as desperate as yours. He just laughs lightly at your begging. “Aww, baby needs me?” The rhetorical question is punctuated by a slap, his hand coming down on your pussy hard enough to draw a yelp from you, thighs closing on his hand in a conflicting attempt to relieve the pressure from the hit and keep his hand on your cunt. He laughs meanly and pulls his hand away, drawing back slightly to spit onto your already soaking pussy, rubbing the spit into your skin while he talks. “This pussy belongs to me, yeah? You’re mine now.” Jeno leans down, mouth at your neck so that he can bite at the skin. “That means that I can do whatever I want with you.” You can’t speak, can’t even begin to think about what you should say in this situation. He presses a kiss to your jaw before pulling back and uses his free hand to turn your head so that you make eye contact with him. “Tell Alpha what you need.” “Need Alpha in me.” You beg, plead, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees and arching your back, presenting yourself to him. “Need your knot, need you to fill me up, breed me, Alpha please-” Your sentence is cut off by his cock slamming into you, the filthy sound being drowned out by his groan. You gasp in relief, breathy thank you’s leaving you with each powerful thrust he delivers. His cock stretches you out so well, makes you go dizzy with the relief of finally having him in you. Your elbows give out nearly instantly, your chest hitting the mattress, and Jeno takes instant advantage of the new position to pull your hips even higher into the air.

It’s so good- almost too good- and it leaves you drooling and clawing at the sheets. All you can focus on is how well he’s fucking you, how he’s going to fill you up so well, breed you like he was meant to. 

You scream when he pulls out, alarm bells going off as your body instantly protests. It only lasts a second though, Jeno’s hands never leaving your body as he flips you onto your back. 

“Couldn’t see you,” Jeno pants out, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth and pushing back in, returning back to the brutal rhythm he had before. It has your eyes rolling in your head at how fucking good he feels. “My pretty baby, taking everything I give her.” 

He’s got you so fucked out that you don’t even realize your tongue is hanging out of your mouth until he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it out even more. “You love my cock, hmm? You love everything I give you.” The pad of his thumb rubs over your tongue, the sensation making your toes curl and tears slide down your cheeks. “Such a fucking needy omega, isn’t that right?” He tugs on your tongue, your head following his actions as he leads you into nodding.

Jeno laughs and lets go of your tongue, dropping his face down to kiss at your neck. He sucks mark after mark into your skin, licking over each one to soothe it after, until he finally gets to your most sensitive, vulnerable spot. Even just the feeling of him close to your mating mark has your entire body aching for it, your neck craning to the side and pushing into his touch. The leverage you get from your legs wrapped around his waist has him pushing even deeper into you and you can feel his knot at your entrance, not quite fully swollen but definitely getting there. It has you absolutely keening, the thought of being so totally owned making you desperate.The sweet drag of his cock along your walls paired with the absolute filth he’s spewing has your body locking up with no warning, your orgasm ripping through you. You arch off the bed, the action only pushing you further onto his cock.

“God y/n, fuck!” Jeno curses, slamming his hips into you with even more force, his knot popping into your entrance and forcing the neediest sound you’ve ever made to leave your lips. You desperately wrap your limbs around him, trying to get him even closer, digging your heels into his ass to push him further inside. He grinds his hips against you one, two, three more times before he shudders, teeth clamping down right on your sweet spot as he comes. Jeno seems to come forever, filling you up with delicious warmth, making your body purr in satisfaction. He finally comes down, having the clarity of mind to tip the two of you onto your sides so that he doesn’t crush you when he collapses. He still tugs you close, arm thrown around your body possessively, his chin resting atop of your head.

“Told you it was intense.” You laugh out, trying to break the silence in the room. The heat’s subsided for now, but you’re still barely in your mind, and you have no idea how long the break will last. 

He huffs out a laugh, chest shaking against you. “I understand Jaemin now.” His hand pets over your back, sliding up to the back of your neck and scratching lightly at the skin there. “You alright?” “Mhmm, yeah. Perfect.” His fingertips press lightly against the mating mark, sending sparks shooting down your spine, and it has your head spinning. You try to adjust yourself against him in an effort to keep your cool, but moving has his cock shifting inside of you and you sleepily grind against him, not thinking. Jeno hisses and tightens his grip on you to keep you still, but the way he grabs your leg has him shifting inside of you and pressing against all the right places. Heat floods through you and your grinding turns more urgent. 

“Ohgod,” You moan, finding enough strength to push Jeno flat on his back. Your body has a mind of its own and you find yourself bouncing desperately on his cock. His knot has you locked into place and you’re barely able to move, but you can still swirl and grind your hips against him, feel the delicious friction of his knot against your entrance. “Alpha, it feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking knotdrunk, hmm? Can’t get enough.” Jeno shakes his head, laughs in a way that’s meant to mock you but it comes out strained. His hands are heavy on your ass, squeezing and slapping to feel the way it jiggles, to feel the way you clench around him with every hit. You throw your head back and let him do as he pleases, losing yourself entirely in how full you feel, in how good his knot feels in you. He buries his face into your chest, moving one hand from your ass to play with your tits, his mouth wasting no time in marking the delicate skin up. 

“Shit baby, gonna make me cum again.” His lips seal over your mating mark again in a sloppy kiss and that’s exactly the final push that you need, your eyes rolling back and your tongue lolling out as your cunt spasms around him, orgasm ripping through you almost painfully. Jeno groans as well, hand flying to your back to pull you as close as possible, and his knot pulses inside of you as you swear you feel more cum shoot out.

He shudders against you, tight grip finally relaxing, though he still keeps you anchored to his chest. You follow suit, collapsing against him. A tired moan leaves you and you let yourself relax, lips absentmindedly mouthing at his skin. His hand pets your back soothingly, touch heavy and sluggish, and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his lips on your forehead.

[userkhael]

Summary: You’re doing just fine being a single mom until your son fell in love with a lost dog.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Warning: RPF

Word Count: 2400+

A/N: Here I am again with one shots I intend to be a series and not keeping up with it. I literally just wrote this a few hours ago after contemplating on the GIF I made of Henry about Kal disappearing. I blame that GIF for this lmao. But I hope you enjoy and let me know if it deserves a part two. Your like, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Divider is made by me! :)

Update: I decided for this to be with an OFC bec it would make so much sense if I’m going to add parts to it. I hope you like it xx

**I edit my own work, this is not beta'd and there will be errors. I do not give consent for my work to be reposted outside of Tumblr without my consent.**

It's been more than 6 years since I've had a decent meal in peace. I'm not even complaining since I already got used to it but somehow you craved quiet even just for five minutes. My handsome and equally adorable son is so close to throwing tantrums because he can't seem to stick the straw in his juice box. The straw's pointy end snapped and he's so frustrated by it. Hunter is a smart boy but he can sometimes be stubborn, not asking help when he needs it the most.

I can't help but roll my eyes at his stubbornness. I ate the remaining pizza on my plate, leaving him with just the French fries side of your meal.

Staring at the people crossing the road, I kept a mental note of whatever dinner Hunter will ask for on the way home. Picking up my phone, I check for any nonsense updates in social media.

Mom's about to babysit Hunter for the night so I can try the dating world again. It's very exhausting but it is more exhausting when your parents hound you nonstop until you say yes.

"Such a beautiful boy. His father must be really handsome." An old sweet lady ruffled my son's curly hair and smiled at me. There's no denying that I do not resemble my son at all. He looked like the exact replica of his Daddy. But some people say his smile and mine are the same.

Wherever we go, I would always get compliments at how handsome he looks. Brown, curly hair, blue eyes and the cutest cleft chin there is. One time, Mom almost told him the truth in between rage of emotions. Henry himself doesn't know about Hunter and it's become a family secret.

But as Hunter grew, so this magical pull Henry has on him. He became a super fan with just one look at the video of it. It gives me a headache most of the time and I've never allowed him in any fan event he'd like to join, or anything that would make him see Henry in person. It's just too much of a risk. He'd cried for days just so he can have his shirt signed by Superman. And by the looks of how he's living his life, he looks content and happy. He's an eligible bachelor in everyone's eyes and I'm not someone to ruin a career and a relationship. He's got a girlfriend who won't be too happy about both of us popping back up in his life. And with how the movie industry take things like this, I would appear a gold digging bitch in everyone's eyes. The media hell will break loose for sure.

It was a mistake. Something someone would do if their sanity is the least of their concern. One drunken night and a broken condom later, my life has completely changed. Then came the pregnancy, which was a nightmare, extending to the date I've given birth. It has been a continuous day to day adjustment but Hunter made it all bearable. His goofy smile makes up for the sleepless nights I've experienced.

It was indeed hard raising him alone. And for someone who's just figuring out their life and didn't have her shit together. Someone who's just cruising through life without an actual purpose. Hunter is my new purpose. My renewed license in life.

I've always wondered how different it would be if Henry was there. Hunter was extremely fussy when he was still an infant. The amount of body water I've spent crying for days and having the urge to storm into Henry's house, a baby in my arms and just be done with it. I also thought of just leave town and never to come back again but my family supported me, backed me up in anything and everything I might need.

But besides being perfect, he literally has no patience in anything. And that includes his juice box.

"Here, let Mommy help." I reach out for the juice box and he hands it to me almost instantly. He sips and continues to watch none other than Superman on his tablet.

Silently gazing out at the unknown, I almost fell off my chair when a dog on a leash came straight to our table. Hunter giggled when the dog playfully licked his feet and was about to feed him his fries.

“Hunter, no. Don’t feed him anything. We don’t know if he’s allergic or not.”

I mean, who can be allergic to potatoes? It’s better to be sure than sorry. The dog doesn’t look like a stray at all. With his well-groomed coat, clean collar and almost brand-new leash, it must’ve strayed from its owners. Keeping Hunter in his seat is hard to do when there’s an animal involved. He loves everything that moves. And you’re still not sure about the dog not being aggressive.

I stood between the panting dog and Hunter and laid out my palm. The dog licked it and his body language suggests he’s a friendly one. 

"Hi, buddy. How did you get here?" I looked at both sides of the establishment, checking if someone’s running and looking for a missing dog but unfortunately, there’s none.

The dog looked up, his eyes somehow begging for something. When I spread out my palm and poured some water on it, he immediately indulged himself. I give him a pat on the head when he’s done.

"Mommy, he looks so cute. Can I play with him?"

The dog looked up at you and at Hunter with puppy eyes and you couldn’t say no. After giving him the go signal, Hunter played with him. The dog is also well-trained to be behaving that good around a kid.

"Can we keep him Mommy?" Hunter said, casually chewing his fries.

"Well, baby, he's got a family out there. He's just lost. We'll wait with him so his family can pick him up, okay?"

Hunter looked sad for a minute but the dog's companion paid off. The fluffy bear is really gentle towards him and would lick his face nonstop. It’s too precious to even pass up so I whipped up my phone and started recording a video of Hunter giving commands and rewarding the dog with a french fry. I can’t help but smile at how adorable and genuine the interaction is.

"I'm going to call you Floof." Hunter said and kissed the dog's head.

"I'm sure that's not his name." I suppressed my laughter and took one last photo before giving Hunter the inevitable news. Sure enough he's going to cry for days once the owner comes back to pick Floof up. 

It's been two hours since you've waited and no one came. The next thing I’ll have to do is to have him checked for a chip since his collar doesn't really tell anything. I’ve searched and the nearest vet clinic is only 15 minutes away. With all the risks that you’re taking here, I hope Floof comes home safely.

Your son is still hugging the ball of fluff when you arrive at the clinic. They checked his weight and temperature and made sure nothing was wrong. Then proceeded to ask questions about what happened. The checking of the chip didn’t take long and was done in five minutes but then the clinic staff mentioned it might take an hour for the owner to arrive since his location is too far away.

"Mommy, can I play with him while we wait?" Hunter pleaded, his eyes on the verge of tears, knowing he would have to leave his new found friend. 

Yes is the only answer he would accept right now. I smile as the dog playfully wrestles with him. Hunter always wanted to get a dog but timing is far from perfect. With the homeschooling and your work at home set up, having a dog feels a bit too heavy on my plate.

For what feels like an eternity, both of you waited with heavy hearts. Moreso with Hunter than I. But the lovable floof made its way into your heart and you can’t deny the fact that you’re sad too. The clinic staff mentioned the owner is only minutes away and will be able to pick up the dog in no time. With the owner's location and assuming they lived far away from here, the chance of Hunter seeing the dog again is slim to none.

"Hunter, he needs to come home to his family, okay? But you have one last chance to hug him."

And he did, gave him so many kisses too. When a black pickup truck arrived, you knew it was the owner and it was time. I smiled at Hunter, reassuring him everything will be okay as the owner walked straight to the desk, not noticing the dog in the corner.

Still ensuring Hunter about what will happen, I wanted to talk to the owner about what happened but when I look up, the wind is knocked out of me.

This cannot be happening right now. 

I’m sweating profusely and can't deny the fact that I wanted to puke. Right then and there. Out of all the dogs in the world, Henry Cavill is the owner of the dog my son fell in love with.

"Hi, mate! The vet mentioned you kept my buddy safe while I'm away." Henry smiles and even though I’m standing far enough from him, I can still feel how genuine that smile is. He must have been really scared about his dog being lost.

Henry looked really good when he was younger but there’s just something about him that reels you in. His simple white shirt and jeans combination is too much to handle. He's wearing sunglasses that made him look like a model straight out of a magazine. I noticed a signet ring in the same hand he’s holding his cellphone. So much has changed yet it's still the same.

Henry stooped down at Hunter’s level when he realized he’s actually speaking to his favorite superhero, Superman. Hunter smiled at you, beaming with that same energy Henry’s smile has. 

“Mommy, he’s Superman! He’s Superman!” Hunter couldn’t stop himself and clung to Henry’s neck, hugging him hard and he did the same.

Just by looking at them, there’s some serious memory whiplash. I swear the nights Henry and I spent just flashed back in front of my eyes. That night was kind of a blur but your curse if remembering every second of it.

"Yes! I named him Floof." Hunter squealed, answering Henry’s question, his gap tooth showing. "Mommy said he needs to go home to his family. Are you his family?"

Henry nodded and looked up at me. His eyes are always a dead giveaway and I immediately knew he recognized me and I wished he didn’t. It will be extremely hard to sleep tonight.

"Did she, now? Well, his name is Kal and looks like you're already best friends. Can you keep Kal company for a few more minutes? I need to talk to your Mom."

Hunter nods and even when everyone’s all smiles, anxiety is crippling me from the inside. I wished I hadn’t felt this way but things took an unbelievable turn and I just hope he’ll thank me for keeping Kal safe and nothing more.

"Riley, wow! It's been what? Five years?" Henry smiles with his eyes and that’s one of the things you love about him. His boisterous laughter are not match with how his eyes light up when he sees something he likes.

My hands are getting clammy and it’ll be too rude offering wet hands to him, so instead I just smile and nod.

"Six years, to be exact." It’s hard to keep my hands to myself at this point.

“Really? Six years have passed and I didn’t even hear a single word from you.”

Well, you’re the one who left. My mouth wanted to say but my brain can never process. Talking about each other’s past is just too awkward for you but definitely not for him.

"It’s been forever since I saw you and the first time since forever that I bumped into you, you have a son? That’s really great. You’re raising him so well to be an animal lover.”

I smile and contemplate his words. And I wanted to tell him all his traits, Hunter inherited. Even the small mannerisms with his face when he’s listening to someone or something. I wanted to tell him the truth but at the same time, I wanted him to know nothing at all. So far, he hasn’t noticed anything suspicious even though he’s looking at his minime.

"It was really nice seeing you. Maybe we can hangout for a bit, so your son and my dog can hangout too." He smiles at both you and Hunter. Smiling back, I can’t even look him straight in the eye.

"Okay, Hunter, time to say goodbye." I stood up beside him and ruffled Kal's hair. Hunter hugged Kal tightly and Kal seemed to do the same and gave him extra sloppy kisses.

Everything seems to be going well when Hunter’s super observation skills surfaced.

"Kal's eyes are brown. They're not like mine."

Of course, Henry being the sweet human that he is, stopped and indulged the boy.

"Why is it?"

"Well, mine's blue. But I guess we're the same in one tiny part."

"Really?"

"My eyes are blue but my left eye has some streaks of brown in it. Just like Kal's brown eyes. Mommy said I got it from my Dad. Did Kal get it from his Daddy too?"

Oh my God. Having a smart son has his disadvantages sometimes. I mean it’s totally fine. There are a lot of men with blue eyes, the other eye with streaks of brown in them. The only problem is you’ve had sex with only one.

I just want the ground to eat you whole and spit you out in the middle of the Caribbean ocean. I can’t even look him in the eye. I can’t do this right now. I kept my head bowed down with the sole intent of shutting Hunter’s mouth before he could say anything way worse.

"Where's your Daddy now?" Henry’s curious voice wrapped you like warm silk. Wrapping you until you’re gasping for air.

"Mommy said he's not around. I really haven't seen him." Hunter fidgets with his fingers.

I nervously chuckled at Hunter’s words and decided to take the matter in my own hands. I gently coaxed and bribed him with more of his favorite food when he got home.

"Alright, honey, let's get going. Gramma will pick you up in a few."

Hunter waved incessantly at Kal and Henry while you both walked to the car. Henry somehow kept up and after fastening Hunter's car seat, Henry’s head against the half-up car window.

"Riles, we need to talk."

Hearing him call me that same pet name brought back a lot of emotional baggage I’ve been trying to get rid all this time. The tinge of desperation in his voice makes it even worse. Without saying anything, I gave him one last nod and left without answering. Keeping the tears at bay, you kept your eyes on the road or else you’ll fall apart.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Vino

Day 25, Post #1 by @thedistantdusk

Title: Vino Author/Artist: TheDistantDusk Pairing: Harry/Ginny Prompt: In Vino Veritas Rating: E (to be safe) for smutty references.    Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Drinking (everyone of legal age). Frank discussion of sex acts. 

They started drinking at 1 PM. 

It seemed the best way to spend the day together before the Hogsmeade day — not weekend, much to Harry’s disappointment— reached its untimely conclusion. He had to cancel the upstairs room he rented for them, too, which he’s still not chuffed about, and not just because they’d definitely have shagged.

Because with Ginny, It’s more than just physical. It’s always been more than just physical. He misses her… deeply, hollowly misses her. It’s a constant ache in the pit of his stomach, like there’s always part of him that’s somewhere else. They had to settle for a heated snog behind the Three Broomsticks before heading in to escape the cold, but that hadn’t been enough. For either of them.

Of course, on the surface he pretended to understand the sudden change of events. It’s a particularly cold February, so cold that McGonagall was close to canceling the Hogsmeade visit altogether. According to Ginny, she only settled for an early dismissal instead when the student body threatened to mutiny. So Ginny’s due back at 6 now, which truly is shit, but anything is better than not seeing her at all.

Harry blinks at his beautiful girlfriend across the table and wonders why she’s been withdrawn today. Distant. At first, he chalked this up to school stress. After all, she is quidditch captain. He knows firsthand how stressful that can be— and while he’d held the captaincy, NEWTS hadn’t even been on the horizon yet. He also hadn’t dealt with a castle full of ghosts and sadness and distorted memories. 

After the drinks started flowing, though, it became clear that school stress wasn’t the issue. Or at least not the biggest one. When she finished her first pint, she started sending him these fleeting looks of puzzlement in between updating him on the Hogwarts gossip. Her second and third pints brought even greater looks of scrutiny.  Now that she’s midway through her fourth pint, she’s full-on staring at him. For the past twenty minutes, he’s felt a bit like an animal in a zoo. Harry hasn’t known what to do about that, really. As much as he loves her, Ginny’s not known for her subtlety. Or patience. She’s always come outright with any concerns or problems, always addressed them head-on. So this constant look of confusion has been… well, confusing. Harry handled the last twenty minutes the best way he knows how: drinking more, holding her hand across the table, and waiting for her to take the lead. He offers a tiny smile and reaches for his pint. He’s content to wait as long as she needs, for whatever she needs.  As it turns out, though, he decides to take a drink at the worst possible moment. Had he been looking, he would’ve seen her cock her head and open her mouth as she reached some sort of internal breaking point. Unfortunately, he just brings his pint glass to his lips instead. So for better or worse, all he hears is the question itself.  “Why do you go down on me so much?” Harry immediately chokes on his beer. It splatters down his front, coating the table in amber specks. He apologizes through a cough and grapples with a napkin, but Ginny remains unfazed. “I… erm.” He coughs again, shaking his head. “Sorry. Wasn't expecting—” “And I’m not complaining,” she says quickly, resting her chin on her palm. “I mean, obviously.”  Oh? He relishes the blush that creeps up her neck. “Then what are—” “It’s just…” She sighs, peering down at her pint glass. “I’ve spoken to Luna about it, and as much as she—"

“You’ve… you’ve spoken to Luna about this?” he asks weakly, head spinning. “Who else—?”

  Ginny plows on as if she hasn’t heard him. “I just figured, I guess, that when we properly started shagging you’d do it less. But you erm… haven’t. So.”

  There’s a pause as the blush from before creeps over her entire face. 

  Harry takes another cautious sip of his pint as a raucous peal of laughter erupts behind him. A firm reminder that they’re very much in public. He squints at the woodgrain on the table. Why is that turning him on even more?

  “Erm… what exactly do you want to know?” he asks after a minute, surprised at how graveled his voice sounds. 

  Ginny sighs, still holding her face in her hands. “Just that, really,” she murmurs, tongue coming out to wet her lips. Fuck. He grips his glass even tighter. “I just… I want to know. Why do you do it so much?” 

  “Erm…” Harry winces. He realizes he’s been saying that a lot.

Ginny’s hand comes up to rest on his, and it’s only when she speaks again that he realizes how drunk she truly is. “Take as long as you need,” she slurs sagely, peering into his eyes. “I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a long time, Harry.” 

And he’d laugh, probably, if this entire concept didn’t terrify him a bit to explain. 

  Bloody words. 

  He twists his pint glass, watching as foam overlaps its white-capped ring. Words have never been his strong suit. How, exactly, is he meant to convert this string of images and feelings into something resembling an explanation? 

  But it’s clearly something she wants answered. Something that’s probably bothered her for longer than she wants to admit. So Harry shuts his eyes, trying to remember, trying to think. 

  He honestly hadn’t given the concept much thought until sixth year. He knew that… general activity… happened before they started dating— obviously. The twins (perhaps deliberately) left enough moving magazines around the Burrow to leave little to the imagination. So he’d seen wizards doing it. They seemed to enjoy it almost as much as the witches splayed out in front of them. Harry just hadn’t considered, really, that he’d ever do it for any reason other than paying his dues. It seemed a simple act of reciprocity. Something one did out of expectation rather than genuine interest. 

  A wry smile creeps across his lips when he thinks about that particular misconception. Because that’s the furthest from the truth, isn’t it? Their relationship flashes through his mind like a film reel. The first time his thigh slipped between her legs as they snogged on the lawn. The pride that swelled in his chest as she wrapped her thighs around it, clutching it as close to her center as she could as she rocked, rocked, rocked. 

  Fuck, how he’d cherished the trousers he wore that day, too. For over a year, they were the closest thing he had to her knickers— and even then, he stole that first pair of knickers right off her. Though perhaps “stole” was the wrong word, because that implied some degree of secrecy… and there was nothing secret about it. He just winked at her as he pulled those blue knickers down her thighs and stuffed them in his trouser pocket. Ginny stared down at him, her chest flushed and heaving. He felt like the most powerful person alive before he even started, and when he actually did… 

  Fuck.

  He returns to the present and adjusts himself beneath the table. 

  “I… erm,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I guess I’m… well, I’ve never been good at….” He makes a broad gesture. “Touch. Yeah?”

  Ginny blinks. “Touch?”

  Harry nods, biting inside his cheek. “Erm. When I kissed you in the common room in sixth year, that was the first time I really understood I could, you know, touch you. To make you happy. To…” He huffs out a sigh, his thoughts growing more sluggish. He sifts through them for a few seconds before reaching the answer he’s searched for all along. 

  “I erm. I figured out pretty quickly that I could use touch to turn you on,” he admits to the woodgrain. “And erm… for someone who wasn’t used to touching, that was pretty… nice. To learn I had that power.” 

  His whole face feels red-hot, like it might combust at any second, but he takes her silence as a cue to continue. 

  “Anyway. As soon as we started snogging, I really wanted to do it, but obviously we didn’t get the chance at school. So instead I thought about it. Wanked about it. For months.” He lets out a slow breath through his nose and focuses on a wood beam above their heads. 

  Has he ever admitted to a specific wanking fantasy before? He doesn’t think so. 

  “Continue.” Ginny’s voice warbles through his thoughts. 

  He swallows and tilts his head down to face her again, pleased to see that confusion has evaporated from her face entirely. Now she’s looking… uncomfortable… for entirely different reasons. 

  Harry smirks; he’s liking this whole opening-up thing more than he thought. But what else to tell her… hmm.

  “Well, we both know I wasn’t great at first, of course,” he says, shrugging. “But you were erm. A good teacher.” He bites his lip again and remembers those early, awkward days when she still needed to shift against his face, to direct him where he needed to go.

Even back then, she lost all sense of decorum pretty fast; that was always his favorite part, really… when she started in with the deep moans, commanding him to add more fingers, to keep them in place, to crook them against her. There was no sense of accomplishment greater than the way she gripped his ears, his hair, his shoulders, her thighs clenching around his entire face as she choked out his name. Being surrounded by her— pressing his tongue against the final pulses of her clit as she rhythmically clenched against his fingers— made him feel more complete than anything else. It left her dazed and gasping; it left him feeling not only useful, but powerful. Necessary. 

  The whole ordeal's made him come in his trousers, actually. More than once. And speaking of trousers…

  Harry clears his throat. “You could’ve asked a while ago, you know,” he says as casually as he can with a raging hard-on. “Back when I took your knickers, even. I want you to tell me if you have a question about anything. Ok?” He swallows, finally blinking up at her.

  Shit. 

  If she looked distracted before, it’s nothing compared to now. She’s just peering at him with lips parted, chest heaving, eyes unfocused. One hand is balled into a fist on the table top, the other gripping on her thigh.

  Ginny eventually rips her eyes away with an annoyed whimper. “Fucking fuck,” she mutters, rubbing her temples. “I’m so fucking turned on.” 

  Harry laughs and finishes his pint, his chest bubbling with pride. “I guess that’s a yes.” 

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 9

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her new friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid. (Baby Spence)

pairing: Fem!OC x Spencer

word count: 4.1k

content warnings: tattooing/tattoo aftercare, mostly fluffy!

A/N: hi! it's been a while since i updated this series, but i love it too much to leave it behind and i'm also always going to be obsessed with sub!spence. anyway, all my tattoos are stick and pokes atm so if some of the tattoo stuff if a little off, i'm sorry!

masterlist

it's really a matter of principle that keeps me bound to the promise. if I were a weaker woman, I would back down from the chair, would have shaken my head and told JJ that no, actually, I will not be getting something permanently inked on my body purely for the fulfillment of a bet.

but with most of the team around me and a couple flutes of champagne flowing through my veins, I give in. it's going to be small, even though I'm not going to see it until it's done. Penelope and Morgan being in charge of the design scares me, though. I start to get nervous that I'm going to end up with a unicorn tramp stamp.

"where are you gonna get it?" Garcia nudges my shoulder once we get inside the tattoo parlor. her eyes are traveling over all the intense artwork, which I can already tell is very much not her style. the walls are covered in intricate prints from past customers.

I think to myself for a moment. if I'm being completely honest, there's one place I've been meaning to get a tattoo, but never have. it's easy to hide, which is good. as long as the design they choose isn't horrifically embarrassing, I'll do it.

"I'm thinking..." I pull the waistband of my jeans down a little until it's right below my hip bone. "there."

"sexy." she says suggestively. I laugh.

"depending on what you guys have decided to give me, yeah." I angle for a hint, but Penny isn't caving.

"are you ready?" Morgan asks, having returned from the front desk area, where he's been talking to the artist. I take a deep breath, peer around at the rest of the team. we look like an odd bunch in here, an assortment of ages all gathered in a dark tattoo parlor.

Spencer's watching me with a concerned expression and I realize that I've been staring around for a decent amount of time. he doesn't say anything, although I've noticed that he's got a certain face he makes right before he does-- and he's making it.

"Clea, are you sure you wanna do this? you don't have to." JJ touches my shoulder suddenly. I realize that they think I'm genuinely worried and I let out a laugh.

"yeah, I'm fine," I turn to Morgan. "lead the way, handsome."

the tattoo artist has me lie down while he preps all his tools, snaps on his gloves. everyone sees me on my stomach and Emily gasps.

"are you getting a tramp stamp?"

"what? no," I giggle. "I'm gonna get it here." I show them the spot I just showed Penelope, and Spencer raises his eyebrows. Prentiss whispers something in Morgan's ear and the suave agent smirks.

"you're gonna like this." Penny grins. I glance at the tattoo artist to see how he reacts to that statement, but he's got a good poker face, unfortunately.

"are you being serious or are am I gonna hate all of you?" I ask.

"maybe a bit of both?" Spencer says in a slightly higher pitch, looking pleased to be in on the joke. I stare at him in disbelief.

"he knows what I'm getting, too?" I point disdainfully. Morgan laughs at the attitude.

"I told him on the way here."

I shake my head slowly and turn my attention to the boy genius, who is hiding a proud smile. there's a boyish quality to it that makes me feel a little better. I have to pull the side of my pants down as I turn on my side for the artist, and a peek of my black underwear makes Prentiss let out a whistling noise. my cheeks turn pink.

"shut up."

"are you ready?" the tattoo guy asks me. it's only then that I notice we're close to actually getting this done. I have no idea what's going on my body-- but there's no time like the present, right?

"sure."

it's the buzzing of the machine when he finally touches the needle to my skin that surprises me more than the pain itself. I feel myself resist the urge to move away, but I'm still enough for him to keep working.

"how's it feel?" Emily asks.

"like getting a tattoo." I wince. Penelope softens, looking between her coworkers guiltily.

"oh no," she complains, then comes over to me and grabs my hand in hers. "is this better?"

I squeeze tightly at the stinging sensation across my thigh, but she doesn't pull away at all.

"yeah." I smile. everyone is watching me intently, so much so that it puts me off a bit. "can we talk about something, maybe? it doesn't help when you're all staring."

"sure," JJ grins. "so..."

the pressure to start a conversation kills any potential for one, and then Spencer clears his throat. "anybody wanna see a cool magic trick?"

I snort and the rest of the team lets out a chuckle as the genius pulls a deck of cards out of his pants pocket. Morgan pats his shoulder. "I hope it works this time."

"it worked last time!" Reid protests, but his cheeks have taken on a slightly rosy hue. I watch him shuffle the mysterious deck and do some fancy tricks that I've never seen before, the corner of his mouth quirking with a sudden air of confidence.

Penelope is still holding my hand, and I can feel the metal of her sparkly rings pressing against my fingers. I choose to focus on the theatrical movements that Spencer is definitely using on purpose instead of the strange, sharp pain.

he fans out the cards and shows them to me, smiling. "pick a card, any card."

"hmm..." I tap my chin thoughtfully and stare at the bright red designs covering the back. I wonder if it's a rigged deck, or if he actually knows tricks. he doesn't seem like the type of person to be into magic. but then again, Spencer is full of surprises. I grab a random one in the middle, pluck it out and memorize it. a red six of spades.

"alright, then..." he grins and slams the deck back into one neat pile, then does some weird shuffling move again and shows the fanned-out deck to Morgan this time. "your turn."

Morgan's gaze flickers between the cards and Reid's face, which is trying to suppress a smile. the dimple on the right side of his cheek twitches once. when Derek taps a card near the end, Spencer nods and does the same thing that he did when I picked one.

except this time, as soon as he's got the whole deck together, he taps them a bit too hard and they go flying. fifty-two-pick-up style, Queens and Kings and Jokers tumbling to the linoleum floor in a defeated descent. my eyes widen and second-hand embarrassment rolls in, followed by the team's stunned silence.

I even feel the tattoo artist falter a bit in his work.

"oh." Spencer says. JJ puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Spence, it's fine."

"no, no, it's not-- I practiced this, like, fifty times last night--" his face is bright red as he drops to his knees. Penelope glances once at you and you return her stare with a pitying expression. Emily goes to help him, then Morgan and JJ.

"let me just..." he gathers up the remaining cards that they hand him, putting them back together into the pile again. I watch as he goes through them, somehow counting at lightning speed before frowning. "we're missing one."

everyone looks around, but it's obvious that there aren't any more stray cards lying about. I feel bad for him, not only because it didn't work but because he practiced it so much. I've been wondering what he does on the weekends-- magic tricks never even crossed my mind.

then Spencer's face lights up.

he comes over to me and gestures to my side, right by the spot where the tattoo artist is working. "may I?"

"uh--" I glance down at where he's pointing, the small patch of bare stomach. "sure?"

his fingertips graze beneath my tummy, between my skin and the smooth leather of the tattoo table, and snatch a card out from under me. it's barely a touch, but my breath hitches in my throat. my fingers tighten just slightly around Penelope's.

he holds up a red six of spades. the enormous grin on his face gives him away. "this wouldn't happen to be your card, would it?"

I gasp and nod, amazement on my face before it's wiped away by the sharp pain of the needle. Spencer displays the red six of spades to the whole team, then basks in their surprised applause.

Emily's smiling in disbelief. "you really had us going for a second."

"wait, wait--" I poke his leg and Spencer turns to me. "how did you do that?"

there's no way he could have hidden it there without me knowing; if he had slipped a card beneath my bare skin, surely I would have felt it. but the magic man just shrugs and shakes his head at me.

"a good magician never shares their secrets, Clea."

this time, the blush spreads over my cheeks. he's cocky right now, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not enjoying it. he's in his element, I realize, even if it is an unexpected one. and as he puts the cards into his back pocket, the group erupts with questions.

he's done magic before in front of them, but they seem to be awestruck by his performance this time. admittedly, I think the whole klutz act really added a nice dramatic element to it.

I'm mostly quiet for the rest of the tattooing process, although everyone else is chattering about the trick and how well the ink is going to turn out. I'm still wracking my brain for ideas of what they chose, but I honestly don't know. I've been banned from peeking.

maybe this was a mistake-- I've only recently joined this team, and already allowed them to decide what's going to be on my body forever. at least it's small. and maybe I'll actually like it; who knows?

when the artist lets out a satisfied sigh and turns the needle off, however, I find myself twisting around and staring frantically at the new design.

"oh my god."

it's a tiny airplane, with two dotted loopty-loops behind it. just small enough to be adorable.

"what do you think?" Garcia asks, eyeing it herself. they all gather around to admire the new design that sits on the outside of my upper thigh. I giggle.

"I love it."

"don't sound so relieved." Emily laughs. I can't help the bubbly excitement in my stomach.

"sorry, I just didn't know what to expect."

Spencer is staring at the ink when he turns to the tattoo artist. "how long until you think it'll be healed?"

the guy stands up to get treatment stuff for it. "I'd say about two weeks, but it varies from person to person." he leaves to grab cling film.

"I thought for sure you'd be the one to know that." I smirk at the genius. he shoves his hands in his pockets, makes sure the artist is out of earshot, and then looks back at you.

"I do know." he scoffs.

"uh huh." I laugh.

"actually, for the record," he lowers his voice. "I'd recommend at least three weeks instead of two. the last thing you want is infected flesh."

"yum, Spencer. thanks for that image." I smile with wide eyes and he shrugs.

...

it's quiet when I shut the door of my apartment shut behind me. I've got a bag full of supplies with me to clean the new art, and I'm feeling lethargic after getting lunch with the team. because Rossi wasn't around to foot the bill, I made the mistake of offering to pay.

we've got the day off after the most recent slew of cases, so I've determined to spend the rest of my day well. I could curl up with a nice documentary, or I could scrub my kitchen and do a little tidying up around here. god knows the film of dust on my bookshelves needs to be wiped away.

oh my god.

am I boring? maybe. possibly.

I shake the thought from my head and bring my things into the kitchen to organize. after spending a few hours cleaning up, I go out grocery shopping, then come home to sit down with a book. my errands take up so much time, I don't even notice the DC sunlight sinking beneath the harsh lines of the city, drenching my apartment in a silky darkness poked through with lit lamps.

it's already 9pm and I kind of want to hang out with someone, but I doubt any of the team wants to spend any more time with me than they did before lunch. or they might have plans with their families.

well, I know one person who definitely doesn't have plans.

I pull out my phone and hit Spencer's contact before I can talk myself out of it, knowing full well that it's not a big deal but still becoming a little nervous. it rings three times before he picks up.

"hello?"

"hey, Spencer."

"Clea. what's-- what's up?" he sounds more confused than anything. probably because I just saw him about an hour ago.

"I know it's late, but do you wanna come over? I'm bored and I feel like you know more about tattoo cleaning than I do." it's a weak excuse.

"why would I know more about tattoo cleaning--"

"you know damn well why, Reid," I laugh. "don't fish for compliments."

there's a slight laugh on the other end of the line before he replies. "I'll be over soon."

I wait patiently, preparing two mugs of coffee in the meantime. I'm sure we'll both want the caffeine, because I have no urge to turn in early tonight. my stomach twists a bit when he calls to tell me he's here, and I go to let him in. I'm not nervous.

except I actually am a little bit nervous when I open the door and there's Spencer with a shy smile and a coat that's a bit too big for him. it hangs off his narrow frame, and I realize that it must have just started raining. his hair is wet and there are dark spots on his clothes where the water has seeped through.

"get inside, my god." I move aside so he can come into the apartment and warm up. he walks in, looks around at my walls. I realize that he's never been here before. "welcome to my humble abode, Dr. Reid."

"it's nice." he compliments without much emotion. I lock the door and turn just in time to see his hand shaking at his side.

"thanks. let me take your coat." I glance out the window, where I now notice the rain pelting the glass.

Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hesitantly lets me hang it on the hook by the door before turning to him with my hands on my hips. "so, how are you?"

"I'm good," he smiles a little and runs a hand through his hair. "I actually read an article on the way here about those psychedelic mushrooms we were discussing the other day."

"is that, like, our thing, now?" I joke and gesture to the couch, where two mugs of hot coffee rest on coasters. he sits down gingerly on the cushions, sitting at the very opposite end of the couch from me.

"I can send it to you, if you'd like." he smiles.

"please do. I've been hoping for some titillating reading, recently." I hand him the mug and he stop before taking a sip.

"how many sugars did you put in this?"

"relax, genius, I'm not out to get you--" I catch his eye. "yet."

he giggles and takes a sip, then another. the smile tugging at my lips is too obvious for my liking; I'm just glad that I got the amount of sugar correct. it would have been funny to ambush him with a sweetness attack, although I think making him come here in the rain was punishment enough.

"have you ever had oat milk?" he asks out of the blue. I frown.

"yeah, why?"

"just wondering. I'm lactose intolerant and was considering trying it."

"you're lactose intolerant?"

"mhmm." he nods enthusiastically.

"I watched you eat three yogurt cups in a row yesterday." I chuckle at the memory of it. he eats so much and remains as skinny as a telephone pole.

"I love dairy." he shrugs it off. I pull my legs up beneath me on the couch and give him a serious expression.

"well, personally, I think oat milk tastes horrendous and it makes me want to vomit, but you should try it."

"noted."

we start to talk about various nondairy alternatives for coffee and it ends up being a surprisingly fun conversation. talking to Spencer has its own charm-- it's not just a conversation, it's a fully immersive experience. from his ambitious vocabulary to the unconscious gestures he makes, all of it keeps me hooked.

I rest my cheek on my palm, elbow leaning against the back of the couch while I nod along to him talking about almond farming. he's got a disdainful expression on his face as he brings up its environmental consequences, punctuating every few sentences with another sip of his coffee.

the rain is still pouring outside. thunder occasionally rolls over the sky and shakes the windows in their panes. my eyes flit from his face to the view when a flash of lightning catches my attention.

"--sorry, we should clean your tattoo." he seems to catch himself mid-thought, realizing that he came here to help me and not just rant about the business of almonds. I smile.

"no worries. this stuff is interesting to me, too."

"there's this documentary out now about it, too, that I've been meaning to watch."

"really?"

"yeah!" his face lights up. "if you want, we can--" he clears his throat. "we can watch it together."

he blushes as he says it, and I can tell that he's worried about how his intentions will come off. he can't take it back, so he runs the pad of his index over his middle finger and fidgets in a subtle way.

"that sounds like fun." I don't want him to feel weird. we've only hung out a few times, and I'm sort of looking forward to it.

"great," he straightens and adjusts his shirt, which has gotten slightly rumpled from his curling up on the couch. his tie is crooked, too. "where are the cleaning supplies?"

"in the kitchen."

"perfect, we should be doing it in there anyway." he stands, pushes a bit of his hair behind his ear while he waits for me to follow-- and I do, albeit with a wince from my tender side. it doesn't hurt as much as I expected.

he follows me into the minuscule kitchen and doesn't hesitate to start going through the things the artist gave me to take home. there's some foam wash and special moisturizer for it, not a lot. it's small enough that the care will be minimal, which is reassuring.

it's only when Spencer's washing his hands that I realize I'll need to unbutton my pants again in order to reach the tattoo. which means this is about to get at least slightly awkward for the both of us.

he turns around just in time to see me unzipping my jeans and his eyes widen.

"how else do you expect to clean it?" I laugh, and he gulps, visibly. his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and he nods in understanding.

"y-yeah, of course." his eyes are everywhere but on me. suddenly, my kitchen walls are incredibly interesting.

I shove down the waistband of my pants until they're just below my upper thigh, then I sit up on the counter and clear my throat. "I can cover some of myself if that makes you more comfortable."

"no, no, that's okay--" he speaks too quickly, then recognizes his mistake. "it's okay. this shouldn't take very long, anyway."

without another word, I shrug and watch him delicately peel away the film. his fingertips are back to barely touching my skin, just like when he pulled that card out from beneath me, and I stop breathing for a moment.

there's also a gel-like substance under the covering, which he tells me is just standard petroleum jelly. Spencer moves with a near surgical (and altogether unnecessary) precision. his eyes are glued to my skin as if forcing them not to stray to my now exposed panties. it doesn't feel sexual at all because it's not, thankfully.

when he uses the foam wash and begins to rub it into my skin, he frowns with concern and looks up at me. "is this okay? you can do it yourself if--"

"it's fine, Reid," I answer too quickly this time. heat rushes to my cheeks. "I honestly thought this was going to be a more complicated process than it really is."

"it's pretty simple, especially for something this small." he shrugs. "obviously, you don't want to get it infected, so I'd just think of it as treating a cut."

silence in our respective positions at the moment makes me nervous, so I change the subject.

"magic tricks, huh?" if anything, I need to distract myself from the way his hand is rubbing over my skin in a totally nonsexual and platonic way.

he relaxes a little, lifting his gaze to mine with a somewhat pleased countenance. "yeah, I love magic."

it's like peeling back a corner of wallpaper and seeing a shade of red beneath; not a lot, but enough to pique my curiosity. "a man of science?"

Spencer shakes his head at the air of faux sophistication I pour into it. "the world needs some wonder."

he says it in an offhand way, although I feel the weight of it from the way he runs a damp paper towel over the last of the cleansing foam. his touch presses into me and his eyes are lowered in a slightly distant way.

"how long have you been into it?" I fight the urge to ask a million questions at once.

"since I was a kid," he jerks back to attention. the grin on his face tells you just how special this is to him. "I used to buy all the books and practice for my mom constantly."

"did you ever do the trick with the never-ending string of handkerchiefs?" I recall one of the only classic moves I know. Reid laughs.

"that one's easy."

"what about the coin behind the ear?" I throw out another one.

Spencer straightens, doesn't even bother to set down the paper towel, before reaching up behind my ear and pulling away with a shiny quarter set between his thumb and forefinger. "you mean this one?"

there it is again, that confidence I saw in the tattoo parlor. he's standing just close enough for me to notice, and I grin as I snatch the metal out of his hand and set it on the counter beside me. "thanks."

"no problem." he laughs.

"you should do that more often."

"the coin trick? I'd go broke." he jokes. I laugh at the rare appearance of Spencer's playful side, hoping to get a bit more of it before we have to go back to being serious at work.

"magic in general, I mean. I think it would brighten up the office a bit."

he thinks about it for a moment, washing his hands again. the sound of the faucet reminds me to put my lotion on my leg. I get to it while he thinks of what to say.

"yeah, maybe you're right."

"I still find it funny that you're into that kind of stuff." I say honestly. of all the things for him to nerd out about, this feels almost comically unexpected. but Reid only gives me a shy smile before replying.

"it always made my mom laugh when I was a kid."

"is she also good at it?"

"tricks? no," he chuckles. there's a washcloth between his long, slender fingers that he's been using to dry them for the past two minutes. at this point, I think he's doing it to keep from fidgeting. "she says it's an old fashioned thing, and that only made me wanna do it more."

"well," I cap the bottle and set it down on the counter, pull my jeans up and lean against the counter with a smile. "I like old fashioned."

Spencer gives a friendly smile. "me too."

taglist (add yourself here or message me to be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @donald4spiderman @awritingtree @gingeraleluke @bewitchedbibliophile @multixfandomwriter @xoxomgg

[hopeshoodie]

Ok so in light of the Independent article (see my tag #fusebox layoffs for more info), I’ve been trying to piece together the sequence of events that lead to FB Going to Shit™. 

All of the below is based on articles, tweets from the staff, and dates from screenshots. Especially with the Matchmaker stuff, I’m using the dates I personally accessed the stories- that might not be accurate to when they were actually released to an international audience, just when my phone updated the app. In hindsight, I’m not a great person to do this because I have a shit memory and don’t keep receipts, so if you have any corrections PLEASE lmk either in the dms or replies. 

In sum, the timeline appears to be:

1. Key players left Fusebox in early 2020. 

The one that people are probably most familiar with is David Gallopim, one of the artists who helped define the S2’s distinct style, leaving sometime before March 2020. He seemed to indicate that there was conflict over the new art style of S3, and released assets he’d designed of Harry in his own style (notably way prettier than Harry looks in-game). 

But probably more important to the direction of the company, Michael Othen, one of the co-founders and former CEO, left in July of 2020 (I had thought it was earlier in the year but according to LinkedIn it was July). It’s much more unclear why he left, but it’s notable because he was a huge force in making the game inclusive of LGBTQ characters. 

So all in all, not a great sign when employees who had a huge hand in creating the content and direction of a game that defined its success jump ship. Especially after the game was seemingly hitting its stride, with the host of Love Island (the TV show) doing a sponsored Let’s Play of S3 and projects in the works like Boat Party and CMM.

2. It seems like Fusebox‘s CEO/executives hired new management, either in 2020 or early 2021. Employees complain that the executives don’t understand what it takes to make a game and are pulling the studio in the wrong direction. It’s unclear if the newly hired execs had experience. 

Wil Stephens, the CEO/founder, has been with FB since its inception but also appears to have only founded game distribution ventures and not worked in any development or employment capacity. If that’s the case, maybe the complaints about lack of experience/knowledge about the mechanics of making games work are about him. If not, then some of the newly hired execs would likely be to blame. 

Paul Virapen, COO, was brought on in November of 2020. He’s worked with Disney’s gaming division, Big Pixel studios, Wooga. The quality of that experience is dubious since he headed up the ‘let’s make apps for Apple watches, it’ll be the next big thing’ department… Lol. Notably also, all of his roles had been in the executive/managerial realm, not the development teams, so the complains might have been about him. THIS IS SPECULATION, but I’m willing to bet that Virapen was a if not THE driving force in switching Fusebox’s focus entirely to matchmaker. All the studios he’s worked with have primarily produced and promoted Match 3 games, and he has a background working with big studios that produce games for large international audiences, not small studios making narrative games for limited audiences.

A new Manager of Finances, Ruth Erskine, was brought on in December of 2020

Rob Goddard, a new producer, was brought in January of 2021

Several key operations positions were filled by existing employees being promoted to management- 2 as far as I can tell. But as a whole it seems like December 2020 was a huge shift in leadership for the upper management while a lot of the other teams expanded but kept their old players as well.

3. At some point in late 2020- mid 2021, the executive team made the decision to switch LITG’s focus from a narrative pass-based game to a Match 3 incorporating romance narrative cut scenes. In early 2021, Fusebox teased more content to come while releasing S3 (seemingly referring to Matchmaker and not S4). In the interim between S3 endings and Boat Party’s release they put out an interview confirming the new game will be Match 3 but did seem to indicate that the plan at that time was for Matchmaker to be a side project with a different development team and not replace the main game. Notably, the LITG writers and artists were reassured that their roles will continue to exist (according to the independent article) as they’re working on S4.

3. In September of 2020, Matchmaker became briefly available in the US. That’s when I first downloaded it, at least. It would be added/removed from the google play store multiple times before having a unilateral release in July of 2021. 

Throughout 2020, Matchmaker is available to Asian audiences solely with LITG S1 getting rolled out in incremental updates. 

Eventually, Beanie Quinn is released (March 2021)

LA Noir is released (May 2021)

Seduction Games is released (late May or June 2021- I got the update and played it June 3rd, but hadn’t opened the app for a month or so. It might have come out before then, which is unfortunate for this timeline since it’s so inextricably linked to the open letter and layoff dates)

LITG S2 is released (only like 20 levels of it) the same month- June 19th for me. Notably, all of these stories are only released to an international audience, with the UK and USA still not having access to the app.

4. At the same time, Fusebox’s internal affairs are pretty quiet from 2020-2021, at least on social media. 

S3 comes out in 2020, Boat Party comes out later in the year and finishes in 2021. Post S3 in October of 2021, a survey goes out gauging player interest in new art styles and representation, which was pretty in keeping with past actions and seemed promising for S4. 

Boat Party features a promising cross promotion implementing irl brands into the game. It’s unclear if enough money was made from this on FB or the sponsor’s end to make that strategy viable, but that might’ve impacted management’s outlook for the profitability of LITG.  

Fusebox teases more content for the summer on Instagram, and then follows up and confirms it’ll be a proper season.

5. More key players leave in early 2021

Ed Sibley is still listed as Narrative Direction on LinkedIn, but he’s not credited as a writer on Season 4 (he was on 3,2,and 1) and started work with NetSpeak games in May of 2021, so we can assume he left around then or at least transitioned away from Fusebox then.

Fred Francis, another writer who had been on the team since S1, turns in his resignation ‘weeks’ before the layoffs were announced in late June. So we can assume he made his exit sometime early June or late May.

6. Prior to the release of Seduction games in May/June, staff expressed concern about the biphobia in Seduction Games. No sources have given a specific time when this took place. They were reassured that the problem would be corrected prior to release, but then the story was released as is to an international audience in June. The article released by the Independent is unclear- there might have been discussion prior to the open letter where staff expressed concerns and then were reassured before the game going live. OR the open letter might have been the first expression of concern by the staff. I tend to think the former, and the open letter was a response to Matchmaker going live with Seduction Games anyways, but I have no proof for that. On May 24th, 31 employees sent an open letter of concern regarding the problematic content in Matchmaker. This letter isn’t public, so we don’t know the scope of the employees' concerns or who the employees were.

7. To resolve the situation, a meeting between the staff and at least the COO (likely more than just him though) was held sometime after May 24th. Allegedly, Virapen was disrespectful to the employees who had questions, refused to answer, and ended the meeting early before any resolution was had by closing his laptop and leaving the room. At least 4 HR complaints were made in the wake of that meeting, we do not know the nature of those complaints. 

8. Some time mid-July (maybe July 26th? A writer tweeted about their job ending soon on that date), employees were made aware that the LITG app would move into ‘sunset mode’. It’s unclear what was communicated, but it seems as though S4 will be heavily delayed or cancelled altogether and no future seasons would be made. Writers begin to post about looking for work on Twitter

9. June 30th- The majority of Fusebox writing staff announce on twitter they’re out of work. In addition to the entire writing staff, unity engineers and producers are also let go.

10. July 5th - Fusebox executives respond to an article by MCVUK with a statement asserting they were “consulting with [their] employees on a proposed change to its business model” that would focus on producing Matchmaker content. They also expounded that the move was to secure “cash injections and and continued support from respected investors across the media and gaming industry”

11. July 6th- Fusebox announces that S4 will be delayed from the summer release date and that there is no fixed release date. 

12. August 2nd- three jobs are posted to Fusebox’s careers page on their website, one being Head of Narrative Content. In the job listing, it specifies that they’ll be maintaining existing properties as well as new ones, and that because of the co-development model (re:fusebox outsourcing Matchmaker to another studio) the new Narrative Lead must collaborate with external content creators.

Hopefully posting this timeline gives players a better understanding of how radically Fusebox has changed in the course of 2021 (and how royally they screwed over the people who made LITG what it is). Again, please let me know if you have receipts showing dates are different or things to add. 

[qingxintea]

➼ chongyun || hiraeth

tw: mention of knives (no violence), kidnapping, explosion _______

you angled your camera to catch your face and upper body correctly and adjusted your blinds for the correct lighting. you put thin pieces of yellow and pink paper over your lamp to give off a sunset lighting sort of aesthetic in your minimalist room. your tiny cacao tree sat in the corner of your room, setting some sort of simple beach vibe.

then, you began to stream.

you watched as majority of your followers came to view as you sat in your rolly gaming chair. the greetings came rushing in and you noticed two of your friends had came along too, xingqiu and chongyun.

"hey gang, it's kingexplosionmurder here with your weekly sunday stream," you smiled and watched as comments came in asking you to notice them. beginning to select randomly, you flicked a short strand of hair behind your ear. "you have been noticed, yourlocalsugardaddy," you blessed them. and you swore you chose randomly.

on the other side of the screen, chongyun's face slightly flushed before eating his popsicle again. yes, that was his username, selected by xingqiu after the guhua heir was somehow able to trick him into selecting so. the situation must've been that he accidentally consumed some jueyun chili's, that was also xingqiu's doing.

he watched you smile as you explained your schedule for this stream, when he noticed you suddenly began laughing. it sounded genuine, he wanted to believe it was genuine, but there was a trace of disappointment in it. he observed your face, noticing you were looking at the chat box. "i agree too, scarymoose."

scarymoose: this streamer's kinda dog shit ngl 😐

by instinct, his fingers grazed over the keyboard as he analyzed the tone. this kid wasn't joking around with himself, he was really out to bring you down. he exhaled, shaking his head, wondering how you would deal in the situation.

yourlocalsugardaddy: miss karen this isn't yelp 🙄

he wasn't content with that yet, things could've gone onto more serious matters, but he knew you liked to keep your chat clean and peaceful. you went to the farther extents to keep that from happening, agreeing with rude comments yourself as a said joke, but actually have it sometimes harming you.

so chongyun tried his best to keep you happy.

redrumreaper: yo moose chill 😳

he recognized his friend xingqiu also trying to calm the situation as you just laughed it off and attempted to continue, sooner enough just beginning to ignore all his comments. some other viewers came up to your defense but in all honesty, you wanted to move on.

"s-so, i found some silk flowers outside of wangshuu inn yesterday, aren't they pretty?" you took a tiny bouquet of the said silk flowers and presented it to your viewers, holding it next to your cheek. the pink tone of the flowers matched the color of your cheeks and made for a nice picture. chongyun would've screenshotted it, but he respected your privacy.

yourlocaldumba$$: yes they're so pretty we love you 😍

13lue13erry: yes ong ong 💕 thiccer than my granny

Straw13erry: don't bring madame ping into this 💀💀

colino: are you sure it's alright to take from someone's legally owned property ?? much less from their garden

Straw13erry: u mean ur neighbors don't harvest ur flowers every day? 🙄 privilege spoke 🤚

yourlocalsugardaddy: vv pretty 😳

redrumreaper: simp 💀

you slightly choked over on your side and xingqiu calling chongyun a simp, for you. quickly clearing your throat, you regained your composure. your viewers could see that your cheeks had been dusted with a darker shade now.

13lue13erry: 👀

Straw13erry: 👀

yourlocaldumba$$: 👀

redrumreaper: 👀

sireluck: 💀

bazinga: 👀

dandelionn: 👀

poetichoe: 👀

"okay- anyways," you pushed that aside, watching the chain of 👀's coming in. you weren't too sure at what they were referring to, but just assumed that they were interested in xingqiu exposing chongyun. but, there was no way chongyun really felt like that, right? it was just a friendly compliment from what you believed. "just a tiny flex but y'all guys, i am so cracked at apex, not gonna lie. for all the new followers out there," you randomly commented. 'and to change the subject.'

"actually, you know what? fuck the schedule, let's go to trolling little eight year old kids posting selfies on instagram. due to certain reasons i'm just not gonna be blurring their usernames out, but please don't spam these people, i don't wanna be cancelled 💗" you sweetly smiled as you pulled up instagram and started streaming on your phone.

of course your sus notifications ruined it 🤡🤡

because xingqiu took advantage of the situation, sending messages to your discord. nothing mentioning your romantic life because he knew better than that, but just trolling. 'HEY GANG. ITS ME, TONY, AND TODAY WE'RE GONNA SEE IF IM FASTER THAN THIS MOUSE TRAP.' 'TURNS OUT, I AM NOT FASTER THAN THIS MOUSE TRAP.' 'AN UPDATE, IT HURTS. ALRIGHT. BYE GUYS.' you tried hard to contain your laughter, but certain giggles came out in the end, giggles that made chongyun's heart flutter.

xingqiu just kept spamming without a stop, to the point that you accidentally clicked into the notification instead of someone's username on a selfie post. so now everyone could see your group chat with xingqiu, chongyun, and a few other viewers that were actually your other friends.

13lue13erry: oh no 🤡

Straw13erry: 🗿

yourlocaldumba$$: HAHAHAHA WE'RE EXPOSED 🤡👌

just water support boy 😔: image.png

oh my god he's sending chongyun catboy edits. you made this concerning noise, glad no one really seemed to know who chongyun really was on twitch. you went back to instagram, beginning to dm a random kid, ignoring the situation that had just happened.

chongyun choked, slight heat running to his cheeks. what the fuck was xingqiu doing- how did he even get those pictures? maybe it was that one time xingqiu forced him to go to a furry con, but how did he ever get the time to photograph these? he nervously fidgeted and played with his fingers.

13lue13erry: 🤡

Straw13erry: 🤡

yourlocaldumba$$: 🤡

redrumreaper: 🤡

<— oraoraoraor

kingexplosionmurder: chav check

oraoraoraor: what

kingexplosionmurder: chav: check 😹😹

oraoraoraor: bruh

oraoraoraor: who tf are you

kingexplosionmurder: hope you like baddies cause i'm bad at everything 💗

oraoraoraor: bruh ok i'm blocking

kingexplosionmurder: stop dming me

oraoraoraor: 😐

kingexplosionmurder: stop dming me

oraoraoraor: wtf

kingexplosionmurder: stop dming me

oraoraoraor: wait wait UR that one twitch streamer?

kingexplosionmurder: stop dming me

oraoraoraor: ig ur fans gonna be so disappointed in you

kingexplosionmurder: stop dming me

oraoraoraor: hahaha wtf i'm gonna post this and tag you

kingexplosionmurder: stop dming me

afterwards you sent a barrage of really cursed images and left the person on read when they tried to complain and get a reaction out of you. you chuckled, extremely satisfied with yourself. this is what your viewers followed you for. you went on hunting for another user, "GO Y/N GO" filling up your chat.

you were just about to dm this other kid until you heard a ring from your doorbell. "oh what the fuck, i didn't invite anyone. but you know what, i'll pull something up to entertain y'all guys while i'm afk." searching on youtube, you typed in 'banana fish ep. 1' and clicked on the longest video you saw. then you got up from your chair, making your way to the front door.

you didn't mute yourself before because you thought there was really no need to, and you underestimated your mic sensitivity. god did you wish that you could go back and time and do just that.

twisting the doorknob, you opened your door and was met with... a certain, someone.

someone that you recognized and has caused you so much pain, and it was all so fun and games before they had to come along. "bruh. aight what you here for fam?" you played it super chill, though you were really sick and tired of this person's shit.

"(y/n). we need to talk," her stern voice made you flinch as you just stared straight into her eyes. you simply nodded your head and crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto your right leg. "we're thinking of taking you back home."

your froze, your breath hitching as you just stood there, waiting for her to go on. clenching your fists and looking down, you stayed silent for a little moment and questioned, "...why?"

"well, you have a stable income source, right?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. "you can finally be of use to us," she clasped her hands together, a bright smile on her face. your finger twitched, awaiting an explanation. "you're a streamer, yeah? so you can be a useful asset to our family name."

"...you only want me to come back so i can make you all seem... good?"

and here you thought, just for a second, that you would be accepted back into the place where you really belonged. your shoulders slumped, as small tears began to well up in your eyes. "and for our profitable gain of course, it would be a shame to not acquire that from you."

you composed yourself and looked up. "im afraid my profit can only cover for one person, and it would be myself that i focus to make a suitable and independent living out of. you've kicked me out ever since i've graduated from college and had me fend for myself, now inviting me back once i have a stable job?" you breathed, fiddling with the sleeves of your black hoodie.

"oh, not inviting, dear. taking."

confused by her words, you let your guard down as she suddenly pushed a warm cloth over your mouth as you let out a constrained scream. you tried to break free of her grasp, reaching for the switchblade in your pocket, but the drowsing chemicals from the cloth took control of you and you felt disoriented. "you... bitch..."

your head hit the floor.

》●✿ time ● skip ✿●

silence.

thats all you heard when you awoke.

pure, unfiltered silence that overwhelmed you as you were completely lost. what was happening?

you tried turning to the other side of your childhood bed, the moon casting light shadows into your 'room'. there was a rope around your wrists you noticed, so you brought them up to your lips and starting gnawing on them until it broke apart. (guys we feral its not a furry instinct ok?/ ??  ?)

the material had irritated your skin, but you put that aside for now. escape- thats what you really needed to do. it was fairly dark, but you didn't have a good estimate of time. the analog clock was broken and set to a different time that displayed 11AM. you sat up, your fingers running along the frame of the window next to you.

for a moment, you stopped, thoughts rushing into your head. what if you could start a whole other life here where things could finally be peaceful, what if you didn't have to feel so isolated anymore, what if you could- ...

no. (y/n), get yourself together. what has happened will anyways stay there, and there is no healing scars. ...still, you couldn't shake off the feeling of missing this home so much when you had an amazing childhood, though full of fake actors who had manipulated you.

opening all the cabinets silently, you grabbed things that you assumed would come to your aid. a tiny backpack, which you then stuffed with other things around it. a first aid kit, a spare knife just in case, along with a clean oversized sweater and a couple dollar bills. all that, along with a compass.

you turned towards your window, stepping on your bed.

pushing open the sides of your window, your stepped on, the brown coldness of the frame coming in contact with your feet. you shivered just a little bit before stopping to think. what would you do once you were out of here? you barely knew your way here. and not to mention, your devices were still left at your other house, so there was no way of contact.

...

did your stream ever end? even if it did, had you muted yourself before leaving? no, you didn't, and you could remember in precise detail. someone out there, anyone, would be willing to help, right? you couldn't possibly be here forever, not when you're basically blown up all over your socials?

your friends, yes, your friends! xingqiu and chongyun were watching the stream and had made obvious interaction in doing so, and they'd be willing to protect you. if they just had a lead...

but... what lead was there? all they heard was the woman's voice and, that was probably it, wasn't it? only a voice with no other clear features that could identify her. it looked like you were doing this on your own.

you came in contact with the blades of grass tickling your feet and conveniently found a pair of sneakers outside. it definitely wasn't yours, and it smelled like the scent of your old room. most likely, it belonged to someone from inside your house, lavender and mint, but who inside there was in the age range to wear modern day sneakers..?

brushing that question aside, you unhesitatingly laced them on and they were just a bit too big, but you could manage.

you breathed, inhaling the freedom intertwined air, a much needed factor of bringing you back to your lost sense of happiness. then, the fear struck you once again, because you needed to improvise now. you needed to run, but which direction? you barely knew this place at all.

you dug around your pocket for the compass you had and it was pointing east. you remember that stepping out of your house was facing west, so you were going the right way... but who knows how messy the path was? it couldn't have been an exact pathway, but going directly ahead was your simplest option.

you heard a pair of footsteps coming from inside the house, probably a few seconds away to opening the door. you sucked in your breath and ran, ran as far as your legs could take you. your intimidating speed and played into your advantage, and taking one last look, you saw the lights on, before continuing.

a few minutes into it, you felt some elemental energy. it was a sense you learned to develop since you were young, giving you the upper hand in a variety of situations. you followed the trail of glowing lines, the air starting to get colder and colder. you shuddered, the crisp coldness nipping at your skin.

you sat below a tree, taking your backpack off your shoulder and took out the oversized sweater. you put it on over your black tee and light blue skinny jeans, its nostalgic aroma filling your sense of smell.

it was... warm.

it shouldn't be warm.

the warmth proved as a sign that someone had worn it before, but this size was from what you knew, too small to fit the woman you came across again, and you absolutely did not recall any other beings within the house. it was a small household.

suddenly, you remembered what she said.

we're thinking of taking you back home. you can finally be of use to us.

plural. you should've noticed it before and you shook your head, slightly disappointed in yourself. you didn't remember any other birth siblings. could it be the fact that during the time, they had, in a way, replaced you?

you sat up, then suddenly went drowsy. your eyelids were getting heavy as your back hit the same tree. ah, that clever bitch. you chuckled to yourself, but still unsatisfied how this was gonna end. reaching inside your pocket, you grabbed a bomb that a little kid gave you, and threw it as far as you could. it wasn't as far as you hoped, but it was exceptionally far considered your sleepy state.

in a few couple seconds or so, it was going to explode. you did that to divert the attention of her and slowly ran as far as you could. a few seconds in, you gave in, hoping that your efforts were enough. 》●✿ perspective ● shift ✿●

chongyun heard an explosion.

he raised his head in the direction smoke was coming from, and made a run for it, then stopping to think. no, you're smarter than this. he gathered his shit together and remembered that one day klee gave you a bomb. he deducted that you had used it as a diversion, and began to search around the area.

and finally, he came across your sleeping body. to ensure your living state, he crouched down and let two fingers travel across your neck, searching for a pulse, and was relieved when he found one, pulsing at a normal rate.

he then carried you on his back, picking up the pace since he deducted someone was out for you, would you need a distraction. he remembered some details of the woman, she had ended your stream with your sleeping form in her hands, a dirty smirk coming across her lips. she had dark hair with some natural highlights, but that was all he saw because the rest was concealed by a cloak.

a few minutes, maybe half an hour later, you began to stir. chongyun decided that he ventured far enough to liyue and slowed down for your comfort. he wanted you to get some well deserved rest. but slowly, you woke up, but only the tiniest movement was made. your eyes were still droopy and you wanted to return to sleep.

but the sight of pastel blue hair kept you from doing so.

you felt the familiar silk coming in contact with your arms as he kept on trudging forward at a more consistent and smooth pace. "..chongyun?" you muttered out weakly, earning a small smile from the male. he hummed in response, continuing forward.

your mind was cloudy, unable to interpret the language of the world. but softly, words effortlessly escaped your lips, "... did i do the right... thing?" blinking multiple times, you awaited his answer.

"yes, yes you did," his soft voice reached your ears, making you smile a bit. you nuzzled deeper into his shoulder, clinging onto him tighter, unwilling to let go.

"thank you," you whispered.

he chuckled a bit before responding, "anything for you."

_____

bro ending is a little off because i'm wrote this at 2:53AM and so my brain has went ⬇️⬇️ also i'm just hungry

copy and pasted from my wattpad,, @ppeachtea_

[amelialincoln]

Haunted

“I’m not good at secrets,” Link complained as they pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Especially when it’s good news.” He glanced at Amelia with a wide, boyish grin on his face that made her chuckle.

“I know, babe.” She rolled her eyes. “You were telling Jo within seconds after I told you last time and we weren’t even sure that was good news yet.” Link’s eyes widened as his best friend’s name was mentioned.

“Shit, that’s gonna be hard.”

“Avoid her,” Amelia groaned, grabbing her work bag and opening the car door.

“Hey!” She glanced back to find Link waving a banana and a bottle of water.

“Not this again,” she muttered, remembering the constant nagging she received during her pregnancy with Scout. “We found out last night, Link, I don’t even qualify as pregnant yet.”

“And that’s where you're wrong. I put the prenatals in your purse. Remember the folic acid. We don’t want neural tube defects.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Amelia responded, grabbing the banana and water bottle from his wavering hands. “Wipe that grin off your face, everyone’s gonna know the moment you step into the E.R.”

“We’re having another baby,” Link sang, jogging a couple steps in front of her and glancing back with amusement.

“I hate you!” She called, trying to wipe the grin off her face as her husband waved goodbye without turning back.

Unlike Link, Amelia wasn’t paged for the upcoming trauma. Something she didn’t necessarily mind so she made the quick trip to her office instead. The room seemed stale from the week of time off they’d taken for their honeymoon. Scout’s face was priceless when the couple walked into the house last night after spending the week with Link’s parents. She wished they’d been able to spend more time with him but she promised they’d visit him at daycare, which Mer was dropping him off at for them midday. She fished through her bag finding that Link had gone a little overboard on snacks.

“Classic,” she muttered, knowing he’d probably end up eating half of them anyway. She took the prenatals easily, washing them down with the water bottle that her husband had provided and internally wishing she had a thermos full of coffee.

“Hey, are you not coming?” Maggie, stuck her head in Amelia’s office, breathless from running. “Big trauma? I’m sure you’re needed.”

“I didn’t get a page.” Amelia replied, now understanding Link's inability to keep good news to himself. Staring at Maggie’s happy expression made her want to blurt out the news so bad.

“Probably a mistake since you were off for the week. We need to catch up later over dinner or something. Just come with me now.” Her eyes flicked to the desk. “Whoa what’s with all the vitamins? You always made fun of my ‘bullshit’ morning routine.”

“Uh, Bali inspired me I guess,” Amelia sputtered.

“Ugh, I’m so jealous!” Maggie squealed. “Can’t wait to hear all about it.” Amelia nodded, following her sister as they joined the mass of doctors that were heading to the E.R.

[][][]

“Did you page, Amelia?” Was the first thing Link said to Bailey after their week off. Bailey stared at the ortho surgeon blankly, trying to control the chaos that E.R. was descending into. “Wha--”

“I made sure she wasn’t,” Webber affirmed, seeming to come out of nowhere. People were staggering around like zombies and Link swallowed uncomfortably.

“She can’t get near this today. Can we send a resident up to her office to distract her? Or just ask her to take the day off? Are you okay with being here?” He asked Webber, glancing around the room.

“I’m fine,” Richard affirmed to him and Bailey. “More of a drinker.”

“Amelia says it’s all the same.”

“If I wasn’t fine I would make that clear,” Richard shook his head. “I’ll find a resident for Shepherd. You’re needed in trauma four.” Link nodded, glancing around the E.R. once more before following the general surgeon into the crowded room.

[][][]

It was the smell that hit Amelia first as she and Maggie entered the E.R. It wasn’t like she hadn’t treated patients who reeked of weed before but the entire wing seemed to be exuding the smell of marijuana. She stumbled back slightly.

“What happened?”

“Train slid off the rails over that skate park on Elm where all the stoners hang out,” Teddy yelled over the commotion. “The majority of those injured are completely out of their minds. One of my guys tried to shoot himself up with saline. All the nurses are complaining about veins.”

“Oh,” Amelia swallowed, Teddy nodded and turned back to her patient who had begun to seize. “Little help, Shepherd?”

“Just a sec,” Amelia answered blankly, turning the corner abruptly to try and get away from the smell that was seeping into every pore of her scrubs. She pushed an intern aside before stumbling over to a waste bin and throwing up the contents of her breakfast. She tried to push the intrusive thoughts entering her mind away with no success. Her arms covered in needles, her head in a peaceful daze, Ryan. Every part of her wondered what her life would be like if he were still here, holding her, every night.

“Amelia!” A voice snapped her out of her thoughts before strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her up from her place against the wall. “Can you hear me?” She willed herself to answer, trying to focus on the familiar face that was shaking her shoulders forcefully. “Get out of the way!” Link shouted as hospital staff parted to allow for him to lead her out of the E.R. and into an on call room. “Amelia.” He pulled her into his chest, running concerned hands through her hair.

“The smell is covering me,” she mumbled, Ryan still flickering in her mind. Link nodded, pulling off his scrub top before removing hers, along with the rest of their clothes and tossing them into a waste bag.

“Go shower,” he motioned to the small bathroom connected to the room. “I’ll grab your clothes and be right back.”

“Don’t leave,” she begged, knowing that if he did she might find herself back in the E.R. surrounded by the very thing her mind was aching for. Link nodded, texting a quick message to Maggie before guiding her into the bathroom and turning on the shower head. Amelia’s thick hair absorbed smells quickly and he cleansed it until all that was left was the light fragrance of spring flowers before doing the same to his own. Maggie knocked on the door as Link wrapped Amelia into a towel and led her towards the bed.

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault,” Maggie exclaimed as she handed Link their clothes through the crack in the door.

“It’s okay, you couldn’t have known,” Link assured the worried cardio surgeon. “Bad day to come back,” he tried to joke, the worry in Maggie’s eyes didn’t lessen. “I’ll keep you updated,” he finally said. Maggie nodded, slowly shutting the door.

“Do you remember when we had that conversation after Scout was born?” Amelia’s voice came numbly from behind him. Link turned, making his way to the bed and placing a hand on her thigh before answering.

“Yeah. The one after I tried to propose to you the first time?” He willed his voice to be light.

“When I told you about wanting to get high before I went to bed and when I woke up and every so often when I was feeding Scout.” Link waited as her voice wavered. “It’s gotten better. Now it’s usually only right before I close my eyes at the end of the day. Just a little rush of euphoria I get that begs me to sneak out of our apartment and drive to a dispensary. And then I really think about it and I realize how much that would fuck up everything that I love the most. But the thought never goes away. It just lingers and waits until something like today happens. And then that little voice is suddenly screaming and I’m stuck trying to convince myself that my love for the people in my life trumps the love I have for the feeling of being high.”

“Does it?” Was all Link could think of to ask as he carefully slipped a tank top over her shivering chest.

“When there’s an E.R. full of people who have devoted themselves to feeling exactly what my body craves for every day, I’m not sure.” She answered truthfully, relaxing as he guided the tank top over her flat stomach. Link nodded, trying to suppress the impulse to yell at her about the condition she was in. “But then I remember that I’m a mother...and that I owe it to my kid...kids to be stable enough to bring another life into the world. Even though I know they’d be fine with just their dad.”

“We would not be fine,” Link acknowledged firmly, wanting to shake her out of the daze that she was in. “I would not be fine.” Amelia nodded blankly.

“Can you hold me?” Her voice was soft. “And can you describe our baby again? Like you were doing last night?” Link nodded, rolling up her shirt carefully and placing a gentle hand on the bottom of her abdomen.

“Mhmm,” he held back any tears that were threatening to fall from the thought of ever losing her. “Our baby is going to be a splitting image of her mother. With long chocolate curls and ocean blue eyes. Oh and stubborn, to the point where you can’t bother arguing with her because she is also always the smartest person in the room. She’ll have my nose and skin that actually sunburns. Which means she’ll have to learn to apply sunscreen like her dadda and not like her brother or mom. She’ll be upset about this first, wanting her mother’s perfectly tanned complexion but she’ll get used to it. She’ll have her mother’s body type, slim and athletic, but her dad’s height and, like Scout, she will…”

[arieswonjin]

softbound; p.1

title: softbound; (modern royalty au)

pairings: bookshop owner!allen ma x princess!reader

genre: fluff, some angst

word count: 4.3k (p.1) 

navigation: teaser; p.1; p.2; epilogue;

warnings: none

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

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a/n: first part of my fic exchange with @cravicton��

the one-seater sofa you were nestled in was threadbare and faded, but its old charm was what made it the perfect finishing piece to your little nook. 

it sat between two wooden shelves, the excellent fit making it look like it's been specially made to be placed in that very corner of the downtown bookshop. the seat dipped down significantly after hours and hours spent carrying weight as people momentarily escaped from their mundane days and glided through one fictional world into another where they could live some other life apart from the one they had in this modern 21st-century town. 

it was probably fate telling you to savor life’s simpler pleasures, having found the bookshop in one of your low-profile tours of the kingdom—one of your responsibilities as a ruler in training. you’ve been coming here ever since to no one but your assistant’s knowledge.

in the three years that passed, you couldn't remember if you have seen the seemingly insignificant yet inviting piece of furniture you were sitting on ever look new or if there was anybody in your town who has used it as much as you have.

what you did know was that every time you came to get lost in reading, a new trinket prepared by the bookshop's only owner, allen, would always be waiting on top of it. a book with a marked page, illustrations that reminded him of you, or simple items that made you smile were always accompanied by a mug of dark cocoa placed on top of a nearby shelf with a neat coaster. and don't forget the little note signed with a tiny, almost reluctantly-drawn, heart. 

tonight, it was a newly-bought knitted blanket the color of lush forests in autumn. you wrapped it around yourself the moment you sat down and you noticed that it smelled like old books and oat-scented candles. "because it's almost your favorite season," the note said. 

“how's my best customer enjoying their favorite spot tonight?” allen's face appeared peeking through a small space between the books to your right. he smiled, eyes and all, seeing you cradled in the knitted blanket with a book propped up with your knees, his warm mug in your hand.

allen was doing his nightly rounds, making sure new book arrivals were well stacked and sorted before he called it a day and went home. seeing you still immersed in reading a few minutes before the shop's closing time was not a new sight to him. in fact, it was how he finished many of his more enjoyable workdays.

"you know, if you treat every customer like this, they might end up falling for you." you took a sip of the dark cocoa and raised an eyebrow at him, ignoring the question. "with hot cocoa like this every time they're here? i'm surprised people aren't lining up outside."

allen didn't stop smiling and raised an eyebrow back to tease you, "so that means you're enjoying it?" he asked, making his way around the shelves and towards your sofa, plopping himself down on one of its arms.

the answer to his question was apparent with the relaxed way you were sitting, but you answered him anyway. "yes, allen. as always. thank you." you looked up at him, smiling sincerely and noticing how his warm stare didn’t falter.

"i like this one." he tapped the spine of the book you were holding, the white palace, by tom lee. allen always liked discussing books you’ve both read, going over details you yourself would have missed. he looked at you, taking the softbound item in his hand. “princess…”

you kept yourself from choking on your drink. for the past three years, a set of unusual circumstances led to allen still being clueless that you, his bookshop’s most avid patron, were indeed a crowned princess. 

did he finally hear about who you were? you really wanted to be the one to tell him and you were planning to do it soon, but he must’ve found the timing impeccable, seeing you read a novel about royalty then and there. 

you braced yourself for the questions, gathering up remnants of an unfinished explanation that you wanted to save for later.

“….princess mary, was that her name? the main character?” you inwardly sighed in relief and nodded.  maybe not. but soon.“how are you liking it so far?”

"i think it's quite exaggerated, the way they described the king and queen's private life. you know, they have an ordinary side to them, too. more than you would think.” you replied.

"mmhmm." he nodded thoughtfully like he always does when you expressed your opinion, like he was doing his best to grasp your perspective. “fiction has that tendency. and what are the chances of the princess getting married to a commoner?” 

you shrugged and patted the small space beside you on the one-seater. what are the chances of the princess getting married to a commoner? you turned the question over and over in your head. 

"i already closed up the entrance, but we can stay for another hour again if you want? wouldn't be the first time," allen said, accepting your silent offer and laughing at how both of you fit snuggly on the sofa, his chest pressed against your shoulder and his arms draped behind you. 

"how about just another five minutes? i actually have to go earlier today. work." you offered him a sip from the mug to which he obliged, putting his hands over yours as he sipped up the warm drink. "but this is just too comfortable to pass up." you finished. 

after a few lovely minutes, you helped allen close the bookshop. both of you walked side by side, taking the small path to the main road. the space between you two was almost nonexistent as the cold fall evening made you seek for each other’s warmth, however slight. 

you loved this, the comfortable silence he always gave you when you were about to part. he wasn’t too keen about asking you questions and was contented with listening only to what you wanted to share. he never asked, for instance, why you always refused to let him bring you home. instead, he told you almost a hundred times to be careful on the way. 

"i'm glad you enjoyed your nook today.” he faced you and you smiled at his words, giving him an intuitive peck on the cheek to which he scrunched his nose in delight. i enjoyed it too much, you thought. sometimes, being there made you forget that you were in line to rule an entire kingdom. you wanted to say this but decided against it. next time. i promise. “be careful on the way back, okay?” 

you nodded at him to go ahead. he never ever failed to look back at you at least thrice while walking away. 

tonight, you counted four. 

finally, he turned a corner and you sighed.

"your highness." a car stopped in front of you not even a minute after, its front windows rolling down to reveal your assistant. you remember specifically asking him not to open the car door for you when he drops you off and picks you up a block away from the bookshop, things he still remembers to do until now. 

you opened the door and sat yourself down on the backseat. "thanks, serim." 

upon getting in, you knew serim was ready to update you about any developments on your current dealings, the most pertinent one being the donor’s ball, the first-ever palace event your parents, the king and queen, were letting you host on your own. 

“there are some catering concerns that need to be finalized and i was told the guestlist for the donor’s ball is ready for you, your highness. when would you want to view it?” 

“tonight is fine. it would be great if it was brought to the drawing-room when we arrive.” 

“i’ll have it arranged. and a slot needs filling. one of the donors said they were withdrawing the donations for the children’s home, your highness,” serim reported, an undertone of annoyance just barely showing through at the said withdrawal.

“is it kim’s pages inc.?” you leaned your head on the window of the car and saw serim nod. “that’s fine. we have two weeks. that should be enough to find a replacement. let’s have a message sent to similar companies in town.” 

“right away, your highness.”

you made a mental list of your commitments for the rest of the week, knowing you’d have no free time to have another one of your nights at the bookshop with allen for a few days. but this was your reality and you weren’t complaining. you were bringing people the help they needed. telling allen would have to wait.

"oh, and serim?” you leaned forward to peak at his face through the rearview mirror. 

"yes, your highness?” 

“remember when i told you not to call me ‘your highness’?”

“yes….your highness.” he shifted in his seat, holding back a snort.

"you don't have to call me that when we're alone. we're practically siblings and it feels weird. just casually, okay? and take those sunglasses off, it’s evening.” you patted his shoulder playfully from the backseat, all the walls of professionalism crumbling down with your high-pitched laughter.

"alright, y/n." he laughed and cleared his throat, loosening up at your signal. 

serim, the only person inside the palace you could freely confide in when you were growing up, became your assistant at your request. his family has worked for the palace for years and no one could do the job better than him. ”since we're acting like actual buddies now, how's that bookshop owner doing? you told him already?” he asked, pulling up to the front gates of your residence which opened automatically at the sight of your vehicle.

"i will. soon.” 

your decision to not appear on television, or any platform for that matter, even while you were accomplishing work for public service was something your family never questioned. in fact, they supported it, knowing what scrutiny could do to a young woman still finding her character. 

that said, allen not knowing that you were a member of the royal family was not a big surprise, as you were less of a household face than the rest of the monarchy. you deliberately avoided media and the public eye with the help of your dedicated staff, but this didn't mean you dodged your responsibilities. you were busy as can be, meeting partners in private meetings, arranging food and basic support for local shelters, and making sure the palace helpers were well-compensated. 

allen’s bookshop was your breath of relief after a long day. in fact, the morning after spending hours at your small second home always made you feel like you were living a double life—from the worn-down sofa and aged bookshelves to the grand halls and luxurious decorative pieces of the palace.

“honey, i heard you were working until 2 am last night. you should really be getting rest. you know how busy we’ll all be on the day of the ball.” the queen greeted you with a frown as you approached the breakfast table set under a small gazebo in the middle of the palace garden. you sat down and were faced with a complete breakfast setup of the best eggs, toast, fruit, and all kinds of beverages, ready for you like they always were in the mornings. 

“good morning, darling.” the king greeted you after taking a sip of coffee. he eyed your mother, urging her to greet you good morning before the rest of her concerned reminders. “have some breakfast. you’ll need it with the way you’re bustling nowadays.”

“yes, father. and don’t worry, mother, we just had some unexpected things to iron out,” you assured your parents. with you taking care of the event for the first time ever, you knew they just wanted things to go smoothly.

the donor's ball was hosted every fall. its main purpose was to gather potential partners that will support the charities under the royal family’s care. it did mean going out and being seen more than you would like, but it was the perfect opportunity to bring more to your constituents. you couldn't pass up the additional support for your advocacies. 

but to add to that, your parents seemed to think the donor’s ball had another purpose.

“the kangs are on the guestlist. i heard they were bringing their heir, minhee,” your mother shared, trying to sound nonchalant, but you knew exactly what she was hinting at. “right?” she nudged your father who almost choked on his buttered roll. 

“right. jungmo is coming too. remember him? your horseback riding partner?” your father asked. 

“when i was 12? yes, father. i remember. and for the nth time…” you smiled at both of them patiently. “i’m marrying neither minhee nor jungmo.”

the king and queen merely looked at each other. their attempts to push you to meet potential grooms in the donor’s ball were now out of the picture. 

“it’s alright, i got it, thank you.” you smiled at the palace helper and took the pot of tea from her hands, pouring your own cup. 

“then who will it be, y/n? you know we always let you do what you think is best for you, but we only had one request: good in-laws.” the king asked, still sounding gentle as ever despite his hard exterior and the ever-so-pressing question. 

“you get a choice, dear.” your mother smiled at you over the breakfast table. “you can find someone to marry yourself or you can entrust the task to me.” 

“i’m on it.” you said almost inaudibly before taking a bite of your breakfast. 

“come again?” your parents were all ears now. never hearing anything about the state of your heart was the norm for them, so you suddenly saying that you were ‘on it’ was quite the surprise. 

you figured that if you were going to tell allen who you really were and how you really felt about him soon, your parents might as well know before they did anything funny, like set you up with kang minhee for example. minhee was great, but he was not allen. 

“what if i want to marry the owner of that small bookstore?” you asked more confidently than before. they were silenced for a few seconds, again exchanging looks, but later on, they merely shrugged like they realized just who they were talking to. by now, they would have gotten used to how unpredictable their only child could be. 

“then they had better pass their background checks. oh, and of course, we will have to interview them.” your mother explained. “—and don’t worry, i’ll tell your father not to scare them away.” she added after seeing that you were about to protest. to this, your father simply rolled his eyes, making the palace helpers giggle behind you. they always loved witnessing the rather casual exchanges you had with your parents. 

“alright.” you smiled, grateful that you three reached an understanding. you were anxious, yes. how is he going to take this? but you were also visibly giddy. you had too many butterflies in your stomach to worry about anything else. the technicalities would have to be taken care of some other time. “you’re going to love him.”

your parents smiled at you purely, “we can’t wait to meet him.”

“if you treat every customer like this, they might end up falling for you.” allen shook his head, chuckling by himself inside his humble studio apartment. he was cooking up a simple lunch when he remembered what you told him the day before. unconsciously, he caught himself hoping that it was a masked confession. allen knew it was a reach, trying to deduce how you felt just from those words, but seeing how close you two have become—the lingering gazes, warm hugs, and pecks on the cheek—he hoped he had a chance to have his feelings reciprocated openly. it’s probably time to clear out where both of you stood. it’s been 3 years after all. 

the first time you ever stepped inside the bookshop, allen thought you were terribly overdressed. it was just at the break of spring and summer. you entered the shop alone and almost unnoticed, with allen’s back turned and you making the door chimes sound softer than they usually do. he actually only realized you were inside the shop when he saw you perusing the aisle containing contemporary mystery novels. with the beige sundress and huge sunglasses that you wore, one wouldn’t assume that you were from that town. 

“hi, uhm, are you a tourist?” allen asked, ready to offer his help if you said yes. however, he was not looking directly at you but at the book you had in your hands. it was one of the novels in his shop he was not very fond of due to its unnecessary wordiness and lack of research. 

“uhm, no. but i am new to this shop. they have a good selection, huh?” you paused and chuckled at the expression on allen’s face. “don’t worry, i’m not fond of his writing, either.”

“huh?” with a confused expression, he looked up at your face for the first time.

“i noticed you were squinting at it,” you said, raising the book up to eye level. 

“ah, i’m sorry.” a bashful laugh sounded throughout the bookshop. allen looked like he could be your age but he carried himself like a young child meeting someone for the first time. “but you have to admit, his book covers feel very satisfying.” 

“that’s the only reason why i was holding it. to feel it.” you laughed along with him and noticed that he was carrying a stack of at least 10 books. you removed your sunglasses to have a closer look at the titles. “you’re buying all of that?” 

“no, no. i— uh, own the shop, actually. just reorganizing.” he said shyly, not used to introducing himself to a customer because everyone in the neighborhood who came to buy from him already knew this fact.

“oh! and here i was asking you about your own selections! lovely shop, by the way, sir…?” 

“allen. just allen.” he held out his hand. when he asked for your name with complete curiosity and with no trace of recognition on his face, you knew that this was going to be a new and interesting place to be. from then on, his bookshop was the only place outside the palace to witness your unquenchable thirst for reading. 

with every visit, your relationship with allen bloomed from awkward exchanges of greetings and smiles to a routine of long-winded discussions—ranging from the sweet and the natural to the borderline debate-like—a welcome sign that you have grown comfortable in each other’s presence. aside from the fact that he still did not know a single thing about your family background, both of you could say that you’ve come to know each other well, even up to the smallest habits and preferences. 

allen could not remember when he realized that he always missed you terribly on the days you wouldn’t come. he did not know when he started to want to hold you while you had your nose up in a book. he also couldn’t tell at what point in time in the past three years his heart started beating faster at every soft tinkling sound of the door chime, always wishing it was you who entered when he turned and looked.  

although he was not sure exactly when he fell for you, he’s more than certain that he wanted to be able to spend time with you and maybe have a future with you outside of the confines of his store. 

“if you treat every customer like this, they might end up falling for you.” the next time you came, he was going to tell you that he’s never done special gestures like that for any other customer. his heart simply becomes happy making you smile and he’ll be glad to continue doing so for as long as you let him. 

allen smiled by himself again, thinking about the mug of hot cocoa and heartfelt confession he was going to give you when you come back.

it’s been a few days since you last got the chance to take a break from your endless meetings. the two weeks leading up to the ball clouded your mind with nothing but work, work, and work. the one free night you had before the ball was tomorrow and you would usually be feeling excited at the thought of seeing allen and being cradled by pages of fiction in your spot between the shelves. but with the case at hand, all you could do was worry. the excitement upon telling your parents about him was now replaced with a rabbit hole of concern. 

“i can hear your heart racing through the phone lines, y/n…” your best friend said through the phone call. staying in your room cooped up with your thoughts just wasn’t going to do it. you needed someone who was not on edge to put you in the right mindset for tomorrow and no one could do it better than your childhood best friend, who just so happened to be the young prince of a neighboring kingdom. 

“i know, hyeongjun. be the prince that you are and give me your thoughts, please.” you leaned your back on one of the pillars of your balcony, staring out at the wide expanse of your town and the few flickering lights in the distance. you wondered if allen was closing up his shop right this very moment. 

“before that… tell me. why do you like this allen?” hyeongjun asked. as you knew he wasn’t one to judge based on status or occupation, you obliged. 

“well…” you started to fill him in right from the very beginning. your eyes were still looking out at the town, but your mind was replaying your typical visits to the shop like a movie reel. 

you told hyeongjun about how your heart would do somersaults seeing allen sitting on the front desk, looking dashing even in just a simple sweater; about how his eyes would light up when he turned and saw you enter the shop; how he would look down and have a tint of red on his cheeks, catching himself in the middle of a rant when you listened to his stories with a loving gaze and undivided attention.

you smiled dreamily as you continued to narrate how you found the very first note allen left for you. it was placed on top of a stack of aged books at the shelf you frequented. the note said: “y/n. because i noticed you seemed to love horror fiction. these are some of my favorites. tell me what you think about them? :)” you looked over at the front desk, meeting his eyes which were already looking in your direction. you gave him a thumbs up, earning an excited smile from him. 

before you left the bookshop that day, you noticed a bunch of crumpled post-it notes inside the bin beside the front door, some of them with longer messages, some with scribbled out hearts and more smiley faces. you chuckled, imagining how flustered he must’ve been while deciding what to write before finally settling for the simpler message instead. 

you jumpily described your surprise at how, several months after you first met, allen dared to hold your hand and pull you between the wooden shelves to show you the seat he set up just for you; how he would smile when you told him his shop brought you comfort; how the hours spent with him are the longest you could go without being served or addressed as a noble, but as a beloved friend and maybe even more.

“and his mind… he knows more things than i could possibly know. he’s smart. but he still listens to me like everything i say is brand new to him. he’s no prince, but he’s left me more to think about than any other prince i’ve met. no offense, hyeongjun. you know i love you.”

“none taken.” hyeongjun breathed out, taking in everything you said. “just now, it sounded like you were reading me a fairytale. y/n, i know you’re already a real princess, but you saying such things makes me think you’re a princess out of actual fantasy.”

“hyeongjun…” you whined, not understanding where he was going with this. 

“okay, look. i don’t think it was for the fear of him treating you differently that you still have not told him about your background,” he rationalized. hyeongjun has always been a bubbly friend, but you could rely on him to be wise and objective when you needed it the most. “it was the comfort that he brought you after a long day. maybe it was the way he treated you like an equal that kept you contented with what he knows about you at this point in time.” 

you stayed silent and felt the waves of worry ebbing away because of how accurately he described your situation.

“my point is, y/n, if he was everything you described him to be, he would understand why you took this long to tell him. don’t get ahead of yourself, okay?” hyeongjun asked. “but if he reacts negatively, i can always send some of my personal guards to talk it out with him and—“ 

“hyeongjun!”

“i’m kidding! i just wanted to make you laugh,” he said giggling. you shook your head and laughed along with him, feeling yourself gaining more will to face the next day. the sigh you had now was one of partial relief

“thank you… i mean it.” you told him. “see you at the ball?” 

“it’s your first donor’s ball. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[gronjon44]

Ok like... I gotta rant cause its just super annoying.

Overwatch is dying and Archives 2021 was the nail in the coffin.

Yes I'm aware the fan base is still alive and I'm also aware someone else probably beat me to this but just... Archives 2021 feels so lazy this year.

While yes you can argue the skins are great (which they I love Samurai Genji) that doesn't change the fact that these just feel so out of place in the event.

These are skins that SHOULD be in the game I will say that, but they better suited for different events. The Historical Skins are all great but here's the thing that sticks with me.

They said they weren't releasing anymore new events based around holidays (which I think is stupid as is)

But look me dead in the eye and tell me-

TELL ME THESE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN PERFECT FOR A 4TH OF JULY EVENT

We could have gotten a full Historical Event themed around just, history in general, and it could've been separate from Archives And besides its not like Jeff would complain about more people forking money over for the game and in game events

It always bugged me when they said "Oh we won't make anymore holiday events we're just sticking with what we have"

Y'all realize how much your limiting yourselves right? You could give us more 3 week Challenge events and add skins like these. Give us more mini events to fill the gaps with how LITTLE you actually give us nowadays.

And as far as the Genji and Zarya skins are concerned I think they're the two best skins by far this year, but they feel just as out of place (they'd be more at home in Anniversary or Lunar New Year I think)

And these aren't the only other skins I think that would've benefited from this (Mountain Man McCree and Conductor Reinhardt I think would've benefitted from this treatment as well)

And just...

This whole event just feels empty.

The skins are all great but nothing feels like Archives to me.

The Mutations are just kinda eh (they're not bad but compared to last year the only one I personally think is fun/challenging is Sympathy Gains (Retribution but killing enemies heals other enemies))

Impenetrable Barriers is more difficult when a Shield Unit is protecting a Bastion

Thunderstorm is just... Everyone is Winston thats it.

They don't compare to modes like Storm Raging, Blood Moon Rising, Surgical Strike, and Glass Canons

And if I'm gonna talk about the other skins let me just say that Corrador and Sub-Aquatic are really awesome and Camouflage is just... its a love it or hate it skins I think (kinda like Lightning Tracer)

Look me in the eye and tell me they're adding actual recurring content nowadays to the game that isn't related to the OWL or a standard event.

They don't add heroes anymore cause they're dumping so many resources into OW2

They don't update events anymore with actual new gamemodes (not including minor mutations to old events)

All they really give us is new skins, while fantastic, are becoming fewer in numbers and they don't actually match the events nearly as much as they used to (case and point this event)

I get they wanted to release a sequel and continue the story, but here's the thing.

You could have very easily just added a campaign mode to the main game and slowly updated it with new Missions/Campaigns. That's what Doom Eternal and GOW 5 have done so far.

And even if you made it so you have to buy each mission/campaign (like the Telltale games or Life is Strange) I don't think the player base would have had any issues (so long as the price was within reason)

But just... I feel like this year is a final straw for me (and I doubt I'm the only one who thinks this way)

I understand they wanted a sequel to profit off the success of the initial game but the problem with that is that it was too soon for the game to get a sequel.

Yes you can argue that alot of franchises have short gaps between new releases (like Borderlands, COD, and GOW) but those are all Solo Campaign games that focused more on the individual campaign and only had simple multi-player.

Overwatch is a Multi-player based game that built its storyline into the Multi-player with no actual solo campaign.

I'm not saying that they shouldn't add a campaign but I'm also saying that for a game like Overwatch the campaign should have been integrated into the original game and not crammed into an entirely separate project.

Archives was the ideal place to start off cause it told historical events in the games plot (all of which are fantasticly done)and the idea of a solo/4 person multiplayer campaign is an amazing idea.

Dropping everything to abandon your old game and shove viable new content into a second unnecessary game and leaving your player base dry for content... not an amazing idea.

This has turned into a massive rant so let me end it off on this:

Jeff Kaplan is a hack who doesn't know how to run a game and they just need to move OW2 onto the original OW platform

[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud. He knew there would be trails. He knew trouble would come his way. Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant. What he didn’t know. Didn’t expect. Was that literal Chaos would come his way. That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble. Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Sorry about the late update. My mom passed a few years back on Mother’s Day and last weekend hit me harder than expected. Please don’t feel the need to give any sympathy's. I’m not asking for that. Anyway, hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 98

“Light cannot exist without Darkness for without Darkness how would we...”

“Shut up!” Yami roared.

“...know what Light was.” The all too familiar voice finished.

Yami was sick of the voice. He hated it and wondered if he would instantly recognize the voice if he heard it out in the waking world. While it was similar enough to belong to the same person as the Crazy, Happy, Killer voice that spoke when he and Teris received the History of Chaos; it was also different enough for him to question if it indeed belonged to the same person.

Yami blinked remembering what he had forgotten from the last time the page of Chaos had contacted him. “You were right. The Future of Chaos wasn’t in labyrinth two hundred thousand—whatever.”

“The Future of Chaos is not to be found in labyrinth 297,353. The Future of Chaos has long since been taken and moved. Joined where it can be safe.” The voice said.

Yami puzzled at the word “joined”. But the voice was always saying strange things that didn’t make sense, so he instead focused on another question he had. “How did you know? How did I remember?”

Truthfully, Yami hadn’t actually remembered anything concerning his past dreams with the page of Chaos the night Alowishus had taken Teris and him into the labyrinth. But his distinct feeling that evening, the certainty he had that everything would be alright proved that some unconscious part of him remembered these dreams.

“You remember what you must when it is necessary. Even Chaos must bend to the will of Fate. You and the Light alone are destined to have the Future of Chaos. It is not meant for Death. Death cannot have it.”

“At least we agree on that last part.” Yami muttered.

“The time of Darkness is nearing. Your strength will rise in truth once the Light’s power reaches it peak and begins to dwindled.”

“You’re talking about the Summer Solstice. The days growing shorter and all. Not Teris’ actual power dwindling. Right?”

“The time of Darkness is nearing. Your strength will rise in truth once the Light’s power reaches it peak and begins to dwindled.” The voice said again.

Yami growled. The only thing more annoying than these forced communicative dreams with the page of Chaos, was how the voice repeated itself when it didn’t want to answer a question. Thinking of another question, Yami asked. “Why two years for my supposed rise of power? Teris didn’t have that.” Or did she, he wondered. There was no way to know for sure since they had known nothing about it until last years Summer Solstice.

“You must persevere least the world descend into Darkness. You must remember the Light and not consume it least your wrath fall upon the world.”

“Why would I forget Teris? What do you mean consume her?” Yami was disturbed by the memory of his, or more correctly the Darkness’ hunger for the Light and the way the Darkness had drawn the Light into its bottomless abyss.

“Light cannot exist without Darkness for without Darkness how would we know what Light was.”

“Shut up with that and answer me!”

There was a loud slam and slight reverberation that woke Yami up with a start. He sat up feeling groggy despite having gone to bed early. “I’m awake.”

Door still rattling on its hinges, Jax stormed. “I told you to be downstairs and ready to go before breakfast. Not only were you not downstairs but you’re far from ready.”

Yami shook off the disorientating fog of restless sleep, not feeling all there. “Just give me half a minute.”

Jax watched Yami roll out of bed and stumble, falling to a knee. “You’re not hung over, or worse still drunk are you?”

“Nope.” Yami pushed to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed, putting on his pants.

Jax watched a moment longer.

Yami’s movements became quicker and more sure as he pulled on and laced his boots.

Jax relaxed seeing his Vice Captain become less clumsy. “Did you do as I said? You’re not going to get into a fight with Nozel Silva if I take you, are you?”

“Depends. Braid Face gonna start one?” Yami asked, standing and grabbing the clean white muscle shirt.

“My only concern is that you don’t antagonize or strike first.” Jax said.

“I think I can manage that.” Yami grabbed the two belts off the bedpost, first putting on the sword belt Teris got him that helped hold up his pants and carried his grimoire.

Jax watched the younger man wrap the second belt around his waist. “About last night. I hope you understand my reasoning.”

“Would it change your command if I didn’t?” Yami asked, slipping his sheathed katana into place.

Sorry he had bothered trying to smooth any hard feelings, Jax wondered aloud. “You sure you’re good to do this? The questions Alowishus posed might be unnerving. Never mind what questions Nozel and Fuegoleon might've answered. I told you to work out this aggression you’ve been feeling and you’re still brimming with it.”

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that? You’re the one who said we couldn’t go out.” Yami said.

Jax sighed and turned away. “That’s it. You’re staying.”

Cursing his temper, Yami called. “Captain, wait”

Jax stopped at the closed bedroom door.

Resting his hands on his hips, Yami told. “I won’t antagonize or start a fight with the Royal Ball of Pride. You have my word.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Jax told.

98.2

Walking out of Healer’s Hall with Randall beside him, Fuegoleon found Teris waiting outside. Stepping to his cousin, the Crimson Lions Vice Captain embraced her in a tight hug.

“Leon. I can’t breath.” Teris croaked.

“Deal.” Fuegoleon told, his hold loosening slightly when his still healing wounds complained. Eyes closed in relief and gratitude, shame began to fill him. He didn’t care what anyone said. It was his fault. The Agents of Chaos had used him to get his cousin to comply with their wishes.

Releasing her, Fuegoleon gripped Teris’ shoulders. “Never scare me like that again. You hear me.”

“Scare you? You’re the one who--” Teris stop, unable and unwilling to verbalize the truth. Fuegoleon had almost died. If they had gotten him to the healers just a few minutes later… She shook away the terrible thought and hugged him again.

“Leona said you came by yesterday.”

Teris pulled away and nodded. “You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb or tax you.”

Fuegoleon almost argued that he would've gladly given up rest to see her; but he didn’t. The visit from the Crimson Lions had taken a lot out of him. But he had endured it. As Vice Captain, he had to show the Crimson Lions he appreciated their care and efforts. More than that, he had to let them see that he was well and able to continue his duties to serve the Kingdom, its people, and the squad. After what had happened to Quince and the lingering un-healable injury that had left the previous Vice Captain unable to return to duty; Fuegoleon felt it necessary to reassure any fears or questions the squad had about him. Once his report was written and he was fully debriefed, he would go out on a mission and waylay any lingering doubts the squad might secretly have about his fitness.

Fuegoleon smiled gently. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“There you go stealing my line, again.” Teris smiled back.

Fuegoleon’s smile faltered. After what had happened during last years Summer Solstice, he had feared that the Agents of Chaos might’ve had something similar planned for Teris and Yami this time too. When Mereoleona had told him about the labyrinth and its missing contents, Fuegoleon’s relief had been overwhelming. Still, he had betrayed his cousin; breaking down and answering Alowishus Spade’s questions when they had begun torturing Nozel to make him speak. He was hardly mad at Nozel for his own worse state because the Silver Eagle had remained silent so much longer than he had. If anything, it added to Fuegoleon’s shame.

Teris saw Fuegoleon’s expression change and shook her head. “Leon, don’t. If you or Nozel had...” She swallowed unable to bear the thought of a world without either of them. Still, she knew something of the guilt Fuegoleon was feeling. She had been there too often herself. Staring up at him, she told. “If you really feel so terrible about it, I’d be happy to give you a penance.”

Randall stepped forward incensed at Teris’ unbelievable nerve.

“Anything.” Fuegoleon said, head lowered.

“You have to promise to do as I command.” Teris said, eyes hard and piercing.

Randall opened his mouth to call a stop to this; but before he could speak, Fuegoleon replied.

“Just tell me how to make this right.”

Teris gripped her cousin’s arm. “Forgive yourself. Don’t beat yourself up over this. You’re ashamed at being taken by these crazies. Yami and I have been abducted and set upon so many times it’s embarrassing. You feel bad for being used. I’ve been used by these lunatics far more than I care to admit. You feel as if you betrayed me. I nearly destroyed the four kingdoms and beyond during last years Summer Solstice. Talk about betrayal.”

Fuegoleon shook his head. She didn’t understand.

“They were torturing your best friend, Leon. I would've answered any question they posed if in your place.”

“I should have been stronger. Held out longer. Nozel managed to.”

“And then Nozel would have been just as bad off as you were, if not worse.” Teris argued.

Fuegoleon exhaled, knowing she was right. It had been an impossible situation. Perfectly planned to be one.

As if reading his thoughts, Teris said. “Alowishus knows what he’s doing. He’s planned this for who knows how many years. Mana knows how many people he has helping him see it through. Using our love and care against us is what they do. They think it’s a weakness, meant to be exploited and manipulated. But it’s our strength. It’s why we go on and won’t break. Why we fight and won’t lose the war, no matter how many battles they win against us.”

Fuegoleon nodded. “We’ll beat them.”

“Do you forgive me?” Before Fuegoleon asked what she meant, Teris went on. “For our argument. For my slapping you. Do you forgive me?”

If it had been a normal argument, Fuegoleon would’ve said I don’t know, then asked if she forgave him. But their fight had been far from normal. And given what had led to it, jokes of ladies undergarments and learning Yami had taken one of Teris’ unmentionables. With the matter still unresolved, he definitely would've insisted that Teris promise to get the garment back, and probably would've demanded that she also distance herself from Yami or at the very least have some decorum where the man was concerned. But this encounter with the Agents of Chaos made issues even as important as that feel insignificant; at least at the present.

Overcome, Fuegoleon pulled Teris into squeezing hug. “Always.”

98.2.2

Teris had a light breakfast with Fuegoleon and Randall at a nearby cafe. Through an unspoken agreement the two cousin’s avoided mentioning Yami and Nozel, neither wanting to cause another argument. After, Teris made her way to Magic Investigations for a meeting with Marx.

Entering the building, Teris recognized the Counter Clerk Manager but didn’t recall his name. “Good morning.”

Axus looked up from his book. “Is it? Hadn’t noticed.”

“That it’s morning? Or that it’s a good one?” Teris questioned, smiling.

Axus’ lips twitched upward. Scowling, he pulled them back down into their usual frown. “What do you what?”

“If you would please inform Marx Francois that Teris Nova is here for our meeting.” Teris said.

Axus scrutinized her a moment, acting as if he didn’t recognize her from before. “You’re Lord Julius’ sister, eh? You look nothing like him.”

“He doesn’t make you call him Lord Julius, does he?” Teris questioned, humored.

“No one makes me do anything.” Axus snapped wondering when he had begun to show the Azure Deers Captain such respect. He turned away. “Give me a moment to call up Marx.”

“There’s nothing I have to fill out or sign for today's visit?” Teris asked.

“Not this time.” Axus said, setting down the communication crystal.

He wondered what Marx could be doing with Julius Nova’s sister that he had asked for her visit be kept off record. Axus didn’t really care. All that mattered was that Marx had asked a favor and it never hurt to win points with the person who would likely be the next Wizard King’s Advisor; especially when you liked and trusted them more than the current Advisor. There was also the case of barrel aged whiskey Marx had given him for the favor…

Axus’ lips smacked at the thought of the nine beautiful bottles waiting for him at home.

Teris lifted an eyebrow. She had found it curious waking up to find Marx had sent message requesting her to meet him at Magic Investigations this morning. Marx struck her as someone who liked to plan well in advance so the spontaneous meeting seemed odd. Adding to the wonder of it was the timing; Nozel was being debriefed at Magic Knights Headquarters at this very moment. And now she didn’t have to sign in when all visitors had to do so, unless they were the Wizard King or Magic Knights Commander.

The two turned at the sound of a door opening.

“Thank you, Axus.” Marx stayed at the door behind the front counter.

Teris gave the Counter Manager a departing smile. “Thank you.”

Axus didn’t know if it was her cheery demeanor or the fact that she remembered he existed once she had gotten what she wanted; but he found his lips tugging upward again. He pulled them back down with a grunt and inclined his head.

Teris followed Marx down a long hall and up several flights of stairs.

Marx opened a final door for her and entered behind, closing it shut. He gestured to the rectangular table. “Please, have a seat. I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here.”

“To show me something you couldn’t take out of here?” Teris guessed.

Marx paused in his trek around the table.

Teris shrugged a shoulder. “Why else would you ask for a secret meeting here when we’re having a secret meeting with everyone else this evening? That’s what this is, isn’t it? I didn’t have to sign in, and I’m sure Advisor Ellara is sitting in on Nozel’s debriefing which is going on right now.”

Marx blinked, mildly impressed by her deduction. He blinked again when Teris changed the subject with barely a pausing breath.

“Have you figured out who might've moved the Future of Chaos? Or where they moved it?” Teris asked.

“Magic Investigations is working on that. As are Julius and I.” Marx sank into the straight backed chair across from her. “Are you disappointed the Future of Chaos wasn’t in the labyrinth?”

“Hardly. Alowishus would’ve got it.”

Marx shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean do you want the Future of Chaos?”

Teris frowned. “No. The History of Chaos has been more than enough trouble. I’d be crazy to want to add to it. Even if, when, we’ve moved passed this mess and done away with the Agents of Chaos; I still wouldn’t want the Future of Chaos. It’s too much responsibility.”

“What if someone else were to find it?” Marx wondered.

“I’d feel sorry for them, but glad that stupid prophecy was wrong and it wasn’t Yami and me.” Teris answered, without hesitance.

“But wouldn’t you at least want to have a look at it?” Marx asked.

“I admit my curiosity can be comparable to Julius’. It’s certainly seen me get into enough trouble over the years. But when it comes to the Future of Chaos, I have no interest in ever seeing the thing. I’d probably be like Yami and have ignored the History of Chaos if it weren’t for the possible help it could be in dealing with the Agents of Chaos and figuring out their plans. Not that it’s been any help.” Teris griped under her breath.

Marx wondered if maybe that was why Yami and Teris were destined to have the Future of Chaos. Because neither one wanted it or its information. While Marx may not have wanted the burden of having such a thing in his grimoire, he had to admit he had a great desire to see and read the piece. Destiny was a funny thing, he thought.

Getting to the matter he had called her for, Marx said. “You’re half right. I did ask you here because I wish to show you something. Sadly my magic does not allow me to copy such things as detailed as drawings or images, or I would’ve done that and waited till our meeting this evening. But the reason for showing you doesn’t involve you so much as what you have. The History of Chaos.”

Teris straightened in her seat, interest peaked.

“Captain Jax once mentioned he overheard you ask the History of Chaos about the Master of Master’s and Alowishus Spade.” Marx said.

“Not that it’s done any good. The ink just swirls around on the page then says insufficient image.” Teris grumbled. At least after seeing Alowishus Spade for the first time, she understood why the page of Chaos had said such a thing, unable to display his ever changing image.

“Have you ever asked it about Yurist?” Marx questioned.

Teris blinked, mouth falling open. Yurist was the one who had written both the History and Future of Chaos. How was it that she had never considered asking the page about its author?

Seeing her expression, Marx sighed. “Are all the Nova’s guilty of ignoring the painfully obvious? Or is it just you and Julius?”

Teris bristled; but held her tongue.

“Please do so when you get a chance. For now,” Marx pushed a long, wide, leather clad folder across the table toward her, “please look at that and ask the History of Chaos.”

“Ask it what? What is this?” Teris pulled the hard backed folder closer.

“It’s a small portrait that was found in the ruins of an unearthed city. The team of Magic Investigators assigned to the task have been focusing on what we believe use to be the building that once held Yurist’s lab.”

“Why haven’t I heard of this!”

Marx tilted his head. “Do I know of every mission you Magic Knights go out on?”

“No but--”

“Even Magic Knights Commander Greywright doesn’t know every assignment Magic Investigations is working on. You, Vice Captain, certainly have no right or expectation to know everything that goes on in this division.”

Teris’ shoulders tensed even as they hunched, her form shrinking.

“For your information, I came in before sunrise this morning to learn a fellow Investigation Mage had unearthed that.” Marx inclined his head to the still closed folder. “Which is why I sent you message asking you to come, not knowing when Advisor Ellara would be away again to give us chance for you to see and question the History of Chaos about it.”

“Sorry.” Teris mumbled. She was so use to people, especially her superiors keeping secrets from her and Yami about matters that concerned them that she had assumed this had been more of the same.

“We do not know who the couple in the portrait is, though a number of us here have theories.” Marx said.

“So you want me to what? Look at the picture and ask the History of Chaos about the people in it?” Teris asked, not understanding why. “It doesn’t work that way. It only answers questions about the history of Chaos.”

“If that were true why would it attempt to show you the image of Alowishus Spade?” Marx questioned.

“And fail, saying insufficient image.” Teris retorted.

“If all the History of Chaos did was just strictly cover the history of Chaos why would it even make an attempt at showing you the image of Alowishus Spade or the Master of Master's? However old Alowishus Spade is, I truly doubt he’s old enough to have been alive during the time of Chaos’ reign and defeat which brought about Order.”

Teris frowned, having never considered that. Her eyebrows pulled together, wondering at Marx’s pointed question. Shadows of fragments flinted through his mind trying to coalesce and puzzle something out, but something else pieced together first.

Teris’ eyes lifted to Marx, realization dawning. “You think the portrait is of Yurist.”

98.3

Yami found Teris out at the Saber Wolf pens. His appearance announced by the beasts long before Teris heard or saw him.

“I’ll have you know I had to use my mana sense to find you. What are you doing out here?” Yami almost asked if she wanted to go for a ride, but remembered Jax’s order and bristled.

Teris gave No Name the signal to return to his kennel. “I thought we agreed not to do that unless necessary.”

“When I’d still be walking around searching for you, I consider it necessary. It’s a stupid agreement anyway.”

Teris latched the kennel gate. “Privacy is hardly stupid.”

“If there’s no secrets between us why the need for privacy?” Yami half teased.

Teris turned to him, questioning brow raised. “Do you really want to know every time I go to the baths?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Yami grinned, lewdly.

“Yami.” Teris scolded, lightly. Blushing, she closed the gap between them, burying her face in his chest.

Yami chuckled, holding her to him. “Let me see that pretty blush, Princess.”

Teris shook her head, burrowing deeper into him. It was stupid, but she suddenly became emotional about what happened during this mornings meeting with Marx. Her arms tightened around Yami, seeking his soothing strength. She didn’t even know what she was so distressed about. It wasn’t like the History of Chaos could have been talking about Alowishus. No one could be that old. Then again the man did use corpse magic. And when had anything surrounding Chaos or the works Yurist wrote not spelled some kind of terrible for them.

Yami looked down at the top of her head, growing serious. “What’s this?”

Teris shook her head again.

Yami frowned, a sudden swell of anger bubbling inside him. His teeth ground together, muscle in his jaw ticking in cold burning rage. His arms tightened around Teris. He couldn’t even say what he was so mad about. All he knew was that Teris was upset and he wanted to obliterate whatever had upset her. Pressing his lips to the crown of her head, Yami’s eyes slipped closed. He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, soaking in Teris’ calming warmth. With effort he forced his fisted hands to relax and uncurl; reasoning with himself that he didn’t even know if it was something or someone he could hit.

“Teris. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Teris mumbled against Yami’s strong chest, praying that it truly was nothing.

“Look at me and say that.”

Teris lift her head at Yami’s tone. He sounded angry. But when her eyes met his there was nothing but love and concern.

Yami caressed her cheek. “Talk to me, Ikigai. Tell me what’s wrong.”

98.4

Iban paused in plucking mushrooms and looked at a bird flying overhead. Unlike the other creatures of the forest, the Jay wasn’t startled away by the slithering presence of the person who stalked closer. Odd, since Jay’s were rarely seen without their mate nearby and Iban’s keen eyes hadn’t seen the flashier male.

Leveling his head, Iban turned to the stalking presence. “It doesn’t matter how quiet you are. I always know when you’re about.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned that the Darkness within Yami had reach such strength so soon?” Ellara demanded, getting right to the point.

“I figured your plaything would have told you. Whether he wanted to or not.” Iban said.

“I’ve used Olsen far too much of late.” Ellara told, angry she had been forced to use him at all.

“Is that not what he is for?” Iban questioned.

“What’s it matter to you what I use him for? It’s you who had a deal with the Master.” Ellara said.

“A forced deal to stay out of your way and not interfere with your Master’s plans, or tell anyone anything I know.” Iban said.

“And have you kept that deal?” Ellara asked.

Iban thought of the bit about his family's past that he had told Yami, and what little he had told Jax three weeks ago. Clearly the vow of silence Alowishus had forced him into seemed to think he had kept the deal since the people he cared about were still alive.

Iban wondered if the Captain had found the journal he had told him about. The journal that had belonged to one of the earlier Agents of Chaos’ Masters. The Master who had battled and lost to the Clover Kingdoms last light magic user before Teris. Jax had returned five days after Iban had told where he might find the journal only to leave with Yami and Teris shortly after returning. It wasn’t as if Iban was going to ask the Captain if he had found the thing. He had tested Jax enough with his comments about Bronn the day he revealed what few secrets he could. He had certainly tested the binding vow and jeopardized his loved ones enough.

Looking at Ellara, Iban answered. “My family's existence depends on that deal. Your Master made sure of that.”

Ellara glared, not trusting him.

“Though was such care necessary when a simple traitor could turn himself in and confess all your Master's plans? No doubt your puppet Sir Jorah, along with Magic Knights Commander Greywright and countless others know all about your Master's plans by now.” Iban said.

“As if the Master is careless enough to let a low level follower know his plans.” Ellara shot back.

“Do you know his plans?” Iban asked, pointedly. “Wife and follower you may be, but people like your husband and Master hold all sorts of secrets. Like how to kill a traitor from afar.”

Ellara’s eyes widened. After Greywright had stolen point in dealing with the traitor Flic, she had returned to her office and sent word to Alowishus. Her Master's brief response had been clear. She was to stay well away from the prisoner. When Flic had died yesterday evening, she knew Alowishus had been the cause; but figured he had sent some other follower to infect or slowly poison Flic.

Iban’s golden eyes seemed to glow in the heavily shaded forest. “I know a dark magic decay spell with I hear of its symptoms. It is a slow, terrible way to die. Does your Master have a piece of all his followers? How did he manage to get each of you to willing hand a piece of yourselves over?”

“What do you mean?” Ellara asked, breathless.

“I suppose your Master or some loyal follower could have been lucky. Found some bit of Flic’s person to use for the spell. But Alowishus Spade does not strike me as the type of person to leave things to luck. If I were to guess, I would say it came in the form of an initiation ritual for joining the Agents of Chaos. It is how I would have done it. Something easily done and given with little to no question, and soon forgotten about in the joyous rapture of family found and collective cause.” Sensing Ellara’s quickening heartbeat, Iban cooed. “Do not beat yourself up, Advisor. You are hardly alone in being tricked into willingly, if not happily giving up a piece of yourself. How many other fools—excuse me, followers have joined Alowishus Spade’s supposed cause?”

“Shut up!”

“I doubt he would do to you what he did to that traitor. You are his honored and beloved wife, after all. If he would harm you, what hope does anyone else have of being spared?”

Ellara sneered. “You’re a snake hissing nothing but lies. Twisting and turning peoples words and deeds. Now unless you wish to see the Darkness within Yami bleed out and start to effect him. Tell me just how bad it is.”

“If I am such lying snake who does nothing but twist and turn peoples words and deeds, why would you believe anything I say?” Iban asked.

“Do you want the power within Yami to consume him? The Darkness inside is greater than expected.”

“Greater than you expected.” Iban corrected. “I knew from the start that Yami Sukehiro was more than just a vessel for the Darkness. As to your question. No. I do not wish to see the Darkness consume him. The world would end if it did. Which makes me wonder why your Master wouldn’t want that. Isn’t that the purpose of all this? To end this existence in the foolish hope of beginning the next? Unless that is not his true goal.” Before Ellara could speak, he went on. “As for how bad it is. The Darkness in Yami is already bleeding out and affecting him. He has been more volatile. Angrier than usually. Possibly even more desirous of Teris and the Light that is inside her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? The deal--”

“The deal made with your Master does not include feeding you information. That is something you tried to force upon me. I went along with for a time because it was fun and suited me. But I have long since grown weary of it. If you want such information, try affecting your plaything. Not that you will get anything of use. Olsen has little care unless it is for life's beauty or the romantic. Even if he were around more, he would not see much.”

Ellara raised a brow, realizing. “You’re protective of your sole friend.”

“Hardly.” Iban silently cursed, unable to make himself believe the lie let alone convince her of it.

“So Iban Halvor does have a heart. Interesting.” Ellara would've been glad to have something to use against the Blood Mage. But her own care for Olsen wouldn’t let her hurt him to force Iban into anything.

Iban watched Ellara turn around and step away.

“The Darkness within Yami cannot overtake him before it is time. We will handle it.” Ellara said.

It was an effort for Iban not to use his magic to end the woman then and there. Thankfully she used her transportation charm and disappeared before his control was tested further. No longer in the mood to be surrounded by life and fresh air, Iban looked down at the basket of harvested herbs and mushrooms. He didn’t have all he needed for the brews and potions he was making. But he had enough to get started.

Waving a few bees away, Iban headed back to the base.

98.5

Seated in his bedroom, Bran’s eyes cleared. Even though the encounter he had witnessed had happened deep inside the property’s forest, he turned to the closed door half expecting to see Iban standing there.

Comments are VERY MUCH appreciated and really make my day. Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

“Yami is not the concern here. It is Teris. At this rate she will not survive the Ritual of Darkness. If she doesn’t grow stronger the Darkness within Yami will kill her and the Light inside her with it.”