#also for a little bit there i was considering changing his name but tbh i talked myself out of it <-positive< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[leviiackrman]

SIMS 4 OC LOOKBOOKS: The Drakes - Jess, Sam, Tobin, Natalie, Winnie & Bailey

A new family inbound! When I say new, I mean to the sims lmao, these guys are some of my longest running ocs - from back in the early days! So glad I can finally capture this family all together cus I love them so much! Like father like son for their boy Toby, while Natalie has the most calm mind of all of them - no one knows how that happened. Wouldn’t be complete without their fur babies: Winnie and the now v elderly Bailey! (Bailey has seen every inch of this couples bullshit… she’s v tired) Let me know who’s your favourite!

Ackermans || Rikihisas || Enatsu || Kyutoku || Olalias || Hatakes || ATLA || Ginnivan || Ishimoto

Tag list (ask to be added or removed): @carrionsflower @statichvm @risingsh0t @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @kanos @confidentandgood @unholymilf @florbelles @thedeadthree @shellibisshe @roofgeese @aezyrraeshh @faerune @tekehu @jackiesarch @minaharkers @sergeiravenov @carlosoliveiraa @rosenfey @greenecreek @queennymeria @heroofpenamstan @alexxmason @tethrras @jamessunderlandgf @a-treides @solasan @bigbywlf @delzinrowe @fenharel @imogenkol

[catboygirljoker]

based on your description lamia sounds like he'd use poison-type spells if/when he figured that stuff out (/finally figured out how to turn off exp-0). they slaps you with light hitting attacks but every one of them lingers and stings Bad

ooooh i kinda love that...especially since he named himself for lamias, and in the only final fantasy game ive ever played and beaten [tactics advance] lamias have a poisoning attack. i feel like itd be a little on the nose if he used gravity/space magic after regaining his magic ability (i can have him have parallels with xigbar without going That hard in on parallels, yknow) and i hadnt thought much about magic/elemental stuff otherwise!

when their keyblade re-forms they become a much heavier hitter, and possibly unlock dark-type attacks like Riku has, though they're still never great at magic and prefer to fight basically the way they always have. i could really see them adding poison magic to their repertoire so they can maintain distance and dash in for rapid attacks without sacrificing damage...much too think about!

[mockerycrow]

Emergency Contact (1/2) (Ghost x GN!Reader)

>> emergency contact concept here << PART TWO HERE!!

Summary: Simon is your roommate, and you haven’t seen each other in months, considering Simon’s job. An unfamiliar number pops up on Simon’s phone, and answering it makes his world turn upside down.

A/N: How you two moved in together is very vaguely inspired this ghost fic right here. please give it a read! If you finish the song above, I highly recommend listening to the entire album while reading. i’m not the happiest with this, but i’m happy enough to post!

[WARNINGS: Blood and injury, traumatic events/trauma brought up, gore, little comfort, medical inaccuracies, tbh ooc simon but it’s ok.]

Eight months, thirteen days, and nine hours. That’s how long it’s been since he’s been home, since he’s seen you. That’s how long he’s been stuck on base, or thrown into a foreign country to complete some mission, or to gather some intel, or to kill someone, just somewhere, anywhere but with you.

Eight months, thirteen days, and nine hours. That’s how long it’s been since you softly asked him to stay as safe as he can, and to come back alive, and to come back with at least eight fingers. It was a running joke between you two, a way to relieve the terrifying reality of his job; as long as Simon came home alive and with majority of his fingers, he could consider it a job well done. You didn’t know much of his job, of course—only that he’s military, and he’s gone a lot. You already guessed it was a lot of classified stuff, probably down top secret government type of things. That did make you scared, though. You didn’t want the day to come, the day where people in fancy uniforms show up at your doorstep like you’re some widow. The thought of someone informing you of Simon’s death makes your stomach twist.

Eight months is admittedly a long time. Simon.. he missed you, but he’s rather die that verbally admit it, but he sure as hell felt it. He missed the way he could hear you walk through the house, the weight of the floorboards creaking up your feet. Simon missed walking by the bathroom and the air vaguely smelled your shampoo and body wash, a clear indicator you had just taken a shower. Simon missed the way you carelessly have your shoes next to the shoe rack, not even on it, and despite his annoyance of your laziness? He misses it every single time he’s away. He never really realizes the difference of living on base versus being home with you, and he’s comfortable in both environments for completely different reasons. Simon is comfortable with you because you’re safe, you aren’t associated with anyone he has to deal with on a near daily basis. You don’t scan the kitchen to see which household items could be potential bombs in the vicinity like he does. On base, Simon finds comfort in the familiarity of being constantly on alert, the need for a gun to be against his hip—it’s not the best, considering he’s in fight mode majority of the time, but it’s comforting. It’s familiar. It’s.. home, in a way.

You and Simon call at least once every three weeks—it’s not more because you’re both busy, you have your life to tend to while he has to do something like protecting an American Embassy, or sneaking into a compound to retrieve some vital information. You two talk about all kinds of things; you complain about the neighbors for the nth time, or you talk about your job, just something that he hasn’t heard about in a while. Simon.. he’s limited on what he can talk about—what he wants to talk about. It’s a bit difficult, keeping details of his job hidden away from you. He also keeps you hidden away from them; his team. Price vaguely is aware of your existence, but all he knows is your name and your phone number—someone to alert when he eventually would pass away.

It surprised Price when he requested access to his own file to make a change. Simon went for years without anyone in that section, leaving it blank—and then suddenly ‘[Name] [Last Name]’ is written down, along with your phone number. Simon doesn’t want to die somewhere and then you sit at home, dreading the fact that you haven’t received a call from him for over six months. Other than that, no one is aware of your existence and he wants to keep it that way. It keeps you safe, and he doesn’t want the one thing he has going in his life to be taken away from him—not like everything else has been.

No, you and Simon aren’t together. You just are the one constant he cannot allow to die. How you and Simon became close was rather funny, really—before you were roommates, you bumped into each other at the local stores, the bank, even several public spaces like parks and such. You didn’t see him too often and you weren’t aware on why, but you didn’t really wonder why either. By this point, you knew each other for a couple of months. He introduced himself as SR—not Ghost or Simon, but as SR. You didn’t bother to question it because this tall, bulky man seemed like he was trying keep himself as anonymous as possible. Without fail, you always saw him wear dark colored clothing that hid any identifiable markings—tattoos and scars, that kind of thing. He usually has his hood up with a black face mask covering his nose down, but you do know one thing—he has to have bright blonde hair. Why else would his beautiful eyelashes and eyebrows be that bright? It would catch your eye every time you’d see them. Sometimes you would see him with a beanie on and the mask, with his hood down. This wasn’t too often, as it exposed some scarring he has on the back of his neck, as well as his forehead. This also silently lead you to believe he has a tough past of some sort, which is confirmed when you run into him somewhere you never expected to—your therapist’s building. You bumped into him right outside, and you apologized profusely before looking and going silent as you made eye contact.

A silent agreement was made between you two that day, one that you could never put into words. Something in that moment that dragged you two closer together. You had been through some shit in your life, shit that had permanent effect on you, shit that you wanted to work through. It was horribly tiring, but you knew you needed to work through it—so you could live a life you felt was worth living. Simon, was on the other side of the spectrum. He didn’t want this. He never wanted to tell anyone about anything, but Price, Price fucking made him. Simon spends his days and nights plagued with nightmares and memories—he’s woken up in the middle of the night enough times to know that he needs help, but he was so adamant about not talking to anyone about it. But seeing you there? Someone who he hasn’t known for long, someone who had always greeted him with a smile on your face, laughter spilling from your beautiful vocal cords, and someone who doesn’t touch him without permission? It made him so angry and hopeless about this world. Not even you, a stranger who he sees as the best human being he’s known in a while—despite not knowing you for long—could escape from the cruel and sharp jaws of the world. You found out you two accidentally scheduled the same days, so it became an unspoken agreement to wait for the other outside of the building so you can both go in. Even when you weren’t sure when his next appointment would be, you’d be right outside of that building, waiting for him. You would always be right there, and that’s something he quickly learned.

You lost your house to a fire, everything went with the burning embers that raged inside of the 4 walls of your previous home, the structure collapsing in on itself. You had gotten out in time, and you numbly watched the fire roar, the crackling burning it’s memory in your ears. The piercing sound of different sirens were approaching, but all you could do is stand there with your phone in your hand, watching the home you worked so hard for burn to the foundation built years ago. You felt a hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t bother to turn to see who it was. Everything was going so slow, almost like a movie scene in the worst way possible. Your nostrils burned from the smell of burning wood, drywall, and installation. The hand squeezed your shoulder and you slowly looked at who it was—and was him. Simon. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes ever so slightly panicked and it was obvious he was asking you something, but you didn’t hear him. All you could focus on was that he was here. You blinked rapidly as your eyes began to burn from the smoke and from that choked feeling going from your chest to your throat. “I..” You croak ever so slightly. You couldn’t hold it back—you quickly grabbed onto Simon desperately, letting out a heart-wrenching sob because you just lost everything you owned, every memory, every piece of furniture, everything.. but he was here. He was the only thing was wasn’t crumbling away from your grasp, the only constant. Once you clung to him, Simon’s senses were flooded with you. Fuck, your touch burned, just like everyone’s else’s but he liked—no, loved how it felt. Despite the image of a burning house in his wake making dread bubble in his gut, your sobs and touch were the only thing he could focus on. Simon hesitates for only a second before pulling you into his personal space, his arms wrapping around you and weighing heavily on your body. Neither of you spoke, he just let you scream into his chest and sob, your fists gently banging against his chest—the anger, the sadness, everything was too much. Simon knew exactly how you were feeling, so he didn’t mind the twinges of pain your hands produced. Simon was the one who helped you while you chatted with the paramedics and the police. He was the one who helped you find your words when you had none left to share, the smell of the smoke imprinted on your clothes.

Without question, Simon took you to his house. He did not have another bed set up, so he had you sleep in his room while he slept on his couch. He hated the hollow look your eyes held, the way you were delayed with your answers, the ways your hands shook. Your everlasting smile had dissipated into a wobbly frown and he.. Simon couldn’t handle it. He grabbed you some of his clothes and helped you into his bathroom, quietly telling you to take a shower. He’ll take care of your clothes. Simon left you alone, and you showered for a long time. He didn’t count, but it was over an hour and a half. Simon didn’t say anything about you possibly racking up his bill, how could he when you had just lost everything? He wanted to.. to help you, and he wasn’t sure why. Even when he found himself scrubbing your smoke and tar covered clothes in his kitchen sink, he couldn’t find an exact reason why he wanted to help you. Maybe it’s because you made him feel human when he needed to be, maybe you were the one thing that kept him coming back to this town, the one thing that kept him from completely pulling away from the civilian world. You had found him in a corner like a dog, lips curled back and snarling—sharp teeth clashing together, and without a word, you gave him reasons to trust you. Although they may not be.. normal reasons to the regular eye, but they were enough for Simon.

You’re enough for Simon. He scrubbed your clothes until his arms burned, and then some.

That’s when he found out that you too, were also someone who could not stay asleep for long. When Simon awoke with his adrenaline pumping from the muffled sound of vomiting, he had to calm himself down because he’s safe, and you’re safe, most of all. Simon isn’t sure when he began to think that way, but it’s one of the many things he’s decided to not question—which also new for him. Simon is man who demands answers, yet with you? it’s like everything naturally falls into place, which is why he doesn’t complain when your stay at his house—which you swore would only be until you gathered enough money for an apartment—turned from a two week stay, to Simon carrying in an IKEA bed frame to put and assemble in one of his empty rooms. Many sleepless nights came and went, and each and every one you spent them with each other, sitting by a windowsill together, other times spending it in the backyard and looking at the sky. Sometimes you would wake up first, sometimes it would be him. You somehow always knew when he had woken up from a nightmare, his heart pounding in his ears—until your hands grab his and squeeze, to ground him. You burn him, and he welcomes the tickle of your ever-glowing flame. A year into this arrangement, Simon finally shows you his face and he appreciates that you don’t look at him any different. He usually hates the searching eyes, trying to memorize every inch of his face—but he’s greedy when you do it. When your eyes roam over every scar and acne scar, when you point out his messily cut hair and half-assed shaven stubble, he doesnt get angry. Simon doesn’t feel suffocated by your glances. He doesn’t wear his mask at home anymore, not when you’re there.

Then Simon gets the notice about his three month leave ending soon; and he knows that you need to know about his job. Or at least, the bare minimum you need to know. In reality, it’s how much he wants you to know, but he doesn’t want to admit that. He sits you down one morning, a cup of tea in his hand and he had a mug of your favorite morning drink on the other side of the table he had bought a few weeks you started staying here. Simon explains that he has a job in the military, that he can’t tell you much, but it means he’s going to be gone for weeks, even months at a time. You’re at a loss at first, because who is going to have an extremely positive reaction to “by the way, I work an extremely dangerous job and I can’t tell you anything and I’ll be gone for a while.. Oh yeah, you likely won’t know if I die!”? Despite your initial reaction, you grow to be okay with this situation. Or, we’ll, as okay as you can be with it. You also find out that he was here for way longer than he originally is, due to his boss demanding him to take a break—AKA, “go to therapy you dafty”.

For a little over two years, you two fell into a good rhythm. A call every three weeks, him coming home and you becoming the safest space he’s ever had in his life.

Which is why when his personal cell phone begins to vibrate in his pocket during some fuck-all meeting, his eyebrows furrow. The number is unfamiliar, but the area code is not. Simon quietly excuses himself from the extended round table, taking his call outside of the meeting room. Price’s eyes follow his figure as he exits, noticing it’s his personal cell phone in his hand. Simon answers the call and presses his phone against his masked ear, muttering a low, “Hello?”

A high-pitched, soft yet serious voice filters through the speaker, a woman. “Hi, is this Mr. Riley?”

Simon pauses, and so does his heart. “Who’s asking?”

He honestly regrets asking that in the moment—one part of him genuinely wishes he never answered this call, and the other part of him is glad he did. “I’m a nurse from Northern Manchester Community Hospital, you’re written down as [Name]’s emergency contact. They’ve been a victim of a hit and run situation, sir. They’re alive, but they’re in the ICU.” The nausea that suddenly bubbles inside of his guys, the stomach acid mixed with whatever he had eaten previously, threatening to travel up his esophagus, burn every inch and then exit with a horrific sound. Simon’s head began to spin—he’s your emergency contact? A hit and run, you were fucking hit?? By what, a car? A pick-up? A semi? God, Simon has seen the most horrible, gruesome, fucked up shit you would ever see in his entire life, yet he isn’t sure if he can handle the image of you spread out in a hospital bed, with one too many tubes circulating around you. His mind plagues him with intrusive images, ones he never wants to actually see played out. Fuck, his head hurts. It feels like someone is physically shoving a knife into his chest and twisting it, like God is laughing at him and playing with Simon’s pain for his own gain. How could he not think that, especially with everything that has happened to him? His friends, his family? His old CO? The fucking abuse he endured??

It’s like Simon lost his hearing for a moment, because he cannot bare fucking losing you, too. There’s a vague ringing in his ears, almost like there was an explosion and he stood too close. And then suddenly every sound comes rushing back to his eardrums, and everything suddenly everything is so fucking overwhelming. “Mr. Riley?” The nurse calls over the phone, her tone laced with worry. He clears his throat and when he speaks, he sounds wrecked, which he fucking hates. “I.. I’ll come as soon as I can.” Simon hangs up, not giving the nurse a moment to speak. He drops his phone and if he doesn’t sit down, he’s going to fall over like a tree that’s been cut down. Simon lets out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way his stomach is screaming and twisting as he puts a hand on the wall, and he crouches down. It’s the first time he doesn’t look around to see if anyone is watching his sudden display of emotion. When he’s suddenly rocked with the feeling of home at work, especially with the news that you’re fucking injured—he’s overwhelmed and twisted all over the place. Simon finds himself stumbling back to his barracks.

Price finds his way to him after Simon never returns to the meeting. He knocks on the door, but his knuckles pause before they can knock against the door for the third time as he discovers the door is open—which is very, very, odd. He slowly opens the door while calling for Ghost, and is met with the sight of Simon shoving some of his clothes and belongings into a duffle bag, as well as his military travel documents. “Ghost?” Price questions, who stopped in his doorway to watch Simon lose his mind while packing. Simon doesn’t respond as he practically rips his phone charger out of the wall and stuffs it into the bag, zipping it up. He slings it over his shoulder and he turns around, pausing when he sees Price. Simon’s eyes tell everything he’s feeling—that something’s happened, something bad, and he needs to leave. Price bites his lip and quietly exhales, his fingers rubbing at his chin. “I’ll approve your leave. Just shoot me a text of how long it needs to be, yeah?”

Simon makes sure to note to send Price a thank you of some sort, because within the next two hours, Simon is boarding a plane, heading for Manchester, wearing some black clothing, a jacket, a black face mask, gloves, and his beanie. The entire time, he could not stop thinking about you—and how you could possibly die before he got there to send off his final goodbyes. Is that something he would actually want to do, though? See you in the hospital, knowing it’ll be the last place you’d ever be alive in? Go home, see how you left the house exactly as you left it? A house, but without his home in it? Simon stares out the airplane window blankly, his hands curled into fists, and his nails would be digging into his palms if he didn’t have gloves on.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

The next part for Simon, it’s a blur again. Got off the plane, got his luggage, provided documentation, blah blah blah—he didn’t give a fuck about any of it. His focus was you. He didn’t bother to stop home to drop his stuff off, he took an Uber straight to the hospital from the airport. It was a fairly expensive Uber too, but he could worry about the costs of everything later. It took another half hour to get there.

His heart began to hammer in his chest as the sight of the hospital’s signs began to pop up on the road, the anxiety taking hold in his stomach and his head begins to hurt again. Simon quietly thanks the driver, tips them, and exits the car with a swiftness once they pull up. Simon walks through the main entrance’s sliding doors, going up to the desk. A woman behind the counter hangs up the phone, murmuring a goodbye, and then she looks at Simon with her pretty blue eyes. “How can I help you, sir?” She murmurs sweetly, noting how anxious he is. She can see the sweat on his brow line. Simon clears his throat, his voice rumbling in his chest when he speaks. It takes everything in him to not yell at this innocent woman and get thrown out. “My.. My name is Mr. Riley, I was called ‘cause my friend is here,” Simon manages to push out. “[Name] [Last Name].” The woman turns to her computer and clicks the couple of buttons and types a couple of words and holy fuck, Simon just wants to go to your wing already—“Ah, yes, I see you’re listed as their emergency contact,” The woman grabs a sticky note and writes with a pink pen your room number and elevator floor, handing it to Simon. He barely gets a “thank you” out before he nearly jogs to the nearby elevator. Fourth floor, room 283. Fourth floor, room 283. Fourth floor, room 283—it’s the longest minute long elevator ride in his entire fucking life.

Simon changes face masks whilst facing the wall, and then he finds your room number—and his heart is beating out of his chest. There’s cops standing outside of your room who stop him from entering. Simon’s anger flares up so quickly, he nearly makes a scene until a doctor exits your room. She’s wearing her usual blue scrubs, her coat, and she’s dawning a N95 and some sterile gloves. She’s holding a clipboard. “Mr. Riley?” She questions, holding the clipboard close to her chest. Simon nods without hesitation, and she responds, “I’m sorry, but due to the nature of this case, you’ll have to provide some identification for me and these officers.”

Usually, Simon would hesitate—he gives anyone outside of his team the bare minimum, hell, he only introduced himself as SR until he knew you for a while. This time, he takes out his military ID and shows it to the officers. He ignores their looks of surprise, and ignores the murmurs that come from them. Simon puts his ID away and he holds back the urge to shove them out of the way as he glares down at the doctor on accident. “Come in,” The doctor opens the sliding door and steps into the hospital ICU room with him. Simon follows behind her and he immediately smells the sickening smell only the ICU gives off. There’s a small wall blocking his view from you that he hasn’t past, and he can already hear the machines working. A heart monitor, a ventilator, combined with other machines he doesn’t know too well. The doctor flips through the papers pinned to her clipboard. “They were hit by a vehicle of some sort, the scene suggested they were walking home from the local corner store. [Name] has multiple broken bones and fractures, a punctured lung, a fractured jaw and internal bleeding. They lost a lot of blood at the scene.” Simon doesn’t respond as he slowly walks forward, and he finally lays his eyes on you. It’s.. traumatizing, to say the least. You were never supposed to be in a hospital bed like this, hooked up to machines he can’t even name. He slowly walks over to you, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. He doesn’t care to look where. Simon barely pays attention to what the doctor is saying—his hands tremble as he stands by your side, his heart thumping harshly in his chest. Fuck.

He drags over one of the chairs next to your bed. Simon takes off one of his gloves slowly, and then he tears the other one off in a frenzy. He feels so unlike himself, so.. different.. human. He reaches over to your hand and his fingers grab your wrist, so gentle as if you’re glass. Simon presses his fingers against your pulse point, counting your heartbeats despite the monitor. The thumping under your skin makes it more.. real. Feeling you, your heartbeat, your warmth and your skin—it’s comforting. Simon clears his throat and fights the urge to vomit once a gain, watching your chest rise and fall, produced by the ventilator.

He moves his hand to intertwine with your fingers and he uses his other hand to feel your pulse. Simon closes his eyes, muttering the beats per minute under his breath.

At least you’re alive—you’re here, you’re alive, and you’re with him. And that’s all he asks for.

tags;; @alwaystired--neversleeping @handsomeunderwear-art @indefenseofkara @kaysav608 @1-is-loneliest-number @rosee-sensuelle @kitty-satan1 @k4marina @rahmown @royalty-purple @bowtruckleninja — if you are not tagged, it’s not allowing me :-)

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 9

Hey... Sorry it took me a minute. I've decided this is definitely not the only club scene for them because there's a lot I want t explore with them. Part of me wants to apologize for adding so much in but I hope you guys love them as much as I do!!! They are one of my all time favorite pairings to write.

Also don't worry Im working on getting rid of Danny lol

Series Masterlist

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WC- 10.2k

Warnings- dom/sub dynamic, BD/SM, Exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading, choking, sir/daddy kink, pet/puppy nicknames, name calling, slight Mean Dom H mixed with soft Dom tbh, tiny bit of humiliation kink, aftercare is in the next part I promiseeeee

Y/N was buzzing in her own skin. 

So much was happening in her brain that it felt borderline overwhelming. She stood in Harry’s bathroom looking into the mirror with her hands on her face, just to confirm that she was, in fact, a real person. 

The night prior had been intense. A lot, but in a good way. Something had shifted between them, as she suspected, but neither of them were truly ready to talk about it. Harry was instead, a lot more affectionate which… to be honest, she hadn’t expected. It was a glorious change, feeling his hands or eyes on her whenever she was in a room with him. He’d had her sit on his lap while he proof read something on his laptop, his hand stroking over her stomach and underneath one of his shirts that he’d put on her after their bath the night before. There was no urgency to talk, Y/N leaning her head on his shoulder and relaxing into the warm, fresh smell of the man she was so connected to whilst scrolling on her phone. He’d made them breakfast and ordered them lunch, but she had noticed a distinct lack of kissing. 

It made her wonder if she pushed a bit last night, asking for one. Somehow she doubted it considering he had been the one giving her kisses the last few weekends together, but there was a weird seed of dread in her stomach that reminded her that at some point the weekend would be over and the warm place she had in the pool of Harry’s warmth would dry up and she’d need to come back up for air. To go through the week without seeing him, except maybe for a lunch, when she had grown so needy for his mere presence. He was attentive even when they weren’t physically around, more than the man she had called her boyfriend, but it still didn’t feel like enough. As weird and freaky as it sounded, she wanted to crawl under his skin somehow. Get as close as possible. 

Tonight they’d be going to the sex club. Something she was both excited and nervous about, the weird feeling in her chest making her wonder which one outweighed the other. Harry had communicated very clearly that this first visit was going to be rather tame- or, as tame as a sex club visit could be. They’d watch a scene he had pre chosen, a voyer couple in a room open to exhibitionists. Before that, they’d mingle and he would introduce her to some of his friends he had there. 

One thing she wasn’t too sure about though, was getting too close to anyone he had played with before. Y/N, while not historically jealous, found her skin crawling with ants at the idea of having to be around someone else who knew how he tasted, how he looked when he came. Sure, he wasn’t officially hers, but it felt like it more than she cared to admit. That had added on to her anxiety but it wasn’t something she wanted to openly admit to him yet, so she kept it under wraps for the time being.

He’d done something nice for her and got her a dress. A cute little thing, lacy and white. A sweetheart neckline and strapless, she was hoping the strapless bra was going to do its job- but then again, she kind of hoped maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he had chosen the dress for ease of access. The idea of him slipping down the top and playing with her in front of other people had her wet the moment she thought about it. 

Her panties, though, were noticeably missing in the ensemble. When she asked about them, his smirk had rose on his lips. “Who said you were getting any?”

So all in all, she was a complete and utter wreck of hormones and anxiety. 

Freshly showered, she had fixed her hair and sat staring at herself with her makeup half done. Another of the dominant’s shirts hung off her shoulders. He had a vanity that was cleared of anything but her stuff, which was nice, but another flare of jealousy had worked its way through her. Who else had used this vanity for this exact thing? Who else had been getting ready for him to take them to the club to play with them in the way that was so uniquely Harry? 

It was no right of hers to be jealous or possessive when she was still in a relationship, though it was one she was having her doubts about. Her phone remained empty of any texts from him. The longer he put it off, the less she cared about what he had to say. Anger wasn’t really there considering Harry had been giving her plenty of attention, but still. Her brain was craving the quiet only the Dominant had managed to give her. 

“Alright?” His sudden appearance made her squeal, jumping in her chair. Clutching her ever beating heart, she looked at him wide eyed in the reflection. Where the fuck had he come from and how long had he been there? 

“Fucks sake, H.” She wheezed. “You need some sort of bell or something. How long have you been standing there?” Where she expected a laugh, she got none. His brows furrowed and his lips pursed, he turned the chair towards him and lifted a hand to tilt her head up. “For a minute or two. I was waiting for you to notice but…” Eyes scrutinized her face. “You’re nervous.” 

There wasn’t much she could hide from him. To be fair, she hadn’t planned on it, but it was still annoying, borderline unsettling on how he could read her like an open book. “A little. It’s not a big deal though.” 

“We don’t have to go yet, if you aren’t ready. We don’t have to go at all.” His voice was soft as he kept his face placid, clearly trying not to sway her either way. It was yet another confirmation to her that he actually did give a fuck about her well being. 

The idea of not going at all, though, made her shake her head rapidly. Wouldn’t that mean they would cut off their arrangement? As selfish as it was, she couldn’t give him up yet. She couldn’t give up the orgasms and the kisses and the praise, just as much as she didn’t want to give up the daily texts and jokes and pictures of Buttons when she was back at her own place. “No! It’s just, it’s a little intimidating. That’s all.” She sighed, leaning into his hand. That seemed to soften him a bit, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he tried to gage her. 

“What about it has got you intimidated?” 

It felt oddly good having him standing over her, petting at her. His gaze soft, looking down at her as he tried to make her feel comfortable but undeniably in control of the situation. Of her. 

“You know people there, mostly. But the whole thing. I know we’ve gone over what we’re doing but it feels bigger the closer we get there. Y’know?” She puckered her lips over the pad of his thumb, watching as his smile tipped the corner of his lips. These tiny acts of intimacy were going to be the ones that ruined her. “I’m very excited. It’s what I’ve wanted, you know? And I kinda think that makes me put more pressure on the expectation.” 

Harry hummed in his throat, nodding along to her observations. It made logical sense and she knew it, but seeing him agree made her feel a little better. Maybe she wasn’t overreacting after all. 

“It is intimidating. It's taboo, in a way. Something that’s going to shock your system. You don’t go many places with people being so open sexually around you. It isn’t so blatant until the shows start, but even then. It’s the sort of stuff you're used to fantasizing about, and to see it right in front of you can be a lot to take in. Seeing people on leashes, or full body spandex, masks, all of that. It’s new to you, so I expect it to be intimidating to you. But may I offer you a few pieces of advice?” 

Y/N would lick his shoes if he asked in the right tone of voice, so she nodded. She wondered if she would get away with it, and his eyes did narrow, but he chose to let it go. 

“The only person I’m going to be focusing on when we go is you. I have some friends, yes, and I’d like you to meet them and their submissives, but I’m not expecting you to make best friends at the first meeting.” He started, ever so slowly pushing his thumb into her mouth. Testing the waters. Like second nature, she began to suck lightly on the tip of it as he continued talking, the tip of her tongue brushing the pad of his finger. “But the real advice I have is to let go. Let me control the night. I’ve got you, I’ve got everything you need to do up in my head. All you’ve got to do is follow directions. If I tell you to say hello? Say hello. If I don’t, you don’t. If I tell you to sit on my lap, you sit there. Tell you to get on your knees, you do it. If I tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Because everyone else there is doing the same thing, if not, they’re there to watch it happen. There’s nothing you need to worry that pretty little head about.” His eyes darkened slightly as she took his thumb a little further into her mouth, blinking up at him. “Okay? Daddy’s got you.” 

Somehow it worked. Some of that anxiety melted away, realizing he was fully serious. All she needed to do was listen to him. That was the backbone of all of this. 

“You’re in control. You’ve got the power to color out, you’ve got the boundaries and I’m just there to make sure you’re tended to properly. Remember what I said, hm? Me being in control is only because you allow me to be.” 

That had been something she learned more and more as the time passed by with him. As incredible as it felt to have him be in charge, she had the ultimate say so. She could color out at any moment. There was no reason not to trust him because he had never given her a reason not to. 

“Your safe word isn’t just for sex, either. Anything you want to stop tonight, you tell me. I know you’ll be good and remember that, but I just need to remind you before you hand yourself over to me. I will never be disappointed or angry because you need a break, or you don’t want to do something. I care about you a lot more than I care about nutting off or showing off to people.” 

In truth, Harry would never forgive himself if something happened and she ever felt unsafe with him. It was a team effort, yeah, but he did think he was good enough at reading her that he would be extremely upset if he didn’t predict something like that. Y/N did run a bit anxious sometimes. He’d been able to get her to a point where she completely let go for him, and he wanted to repeat that pattern over and over until the weight that she felt on her shoulders lessened. As strong as the woman was, he wanted to help take some of it on his own back. 

His thumb pulled from her mouth with a soft ‘pop’, the dominant ignoring the whimper and smearing the sweetness of her saliva over her chin. It was the world’s highest honor to see her eyes round out for him, to watch her track his every moment like the eager pet she had proven to be for him. Knowing she wanted to please him made him feel more powerful, more fulfilled, than he had been in a very long time. Showing her off was something he had been more than looking forward to doing, but there wouldn’t have been any use in doing it if she wouldn’t feel equal enjoyment. “Are we okay, Sweets?” 

“Yeah.” She sighed, the sigh exhaling against his damp finger. “I gotta finish getting ready though. You have my outfit picked out on the bed?” 

“I do.” He nodded, lightly fingering a loose tendril of hair that brushed her cheek. “And you’ll be wearing that black peacoat over it. Should keep you nice and warm.” Tilting her chin up, he placed one of the first kisses of the evening on her pouty lips before smoothing his thumb back over her mouth. “You’ve got time, darling. Don’t worry.” 

—--

Y/N felt marginally better as she held on to his hand, clinging for dear life on his wrist with the other as they waited at the front entrance. 

There had been quite a lot she expected from a club dedicated to kink. Karma was as sensual and mysterious as ever, but the front of a closed hair salon letting them in had been a shock to the system. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought Harry had lost his mind until he opened the back room door and exposed an entirely different aesthetic. A black and gold elevator, black marble floor and red curtained walls. That had to be a bitch to dust. 

With a key card, he placed it on the gold plated button pad and it opened for them to step inside. Now that she was in the elevator she could hear some music, some people, but nothing she could have ever expected from the street view. Privacy was very important to them, as she could tell. “They’re going to put our phones and my keys into the locker and we’ll get them on the way out. It’s for everyone’s privacy, but there are staff in there to ensure you have an out if you need it.” Unwinding their fingers, his grip changed to her jaw to tilt it up to look at him. The casual dominance had her knees weak. How did he manage to do it so seamlessly? “We’re gonna check out coats, and then we’ll go in. You are safe with me, Pet.” His tone was gentle, reminding her again how he had been the best thing to wander into her life. There was no saying shit just to say it. The man wanted to assure her, drill it into her brain, that he was completely here for her and everything they did was because she wanted to do it. 

As intimidating as it was, she swallowed the lump around her throat and gave him a nod before allowing him to take her coat off.  Standing in front of a hostess and the man who worked the coat check in her little outfit had made her a little stiff at first, but the moment she heard the quiet curse under his breath, their opinions didn’t matter. 

He had chosen a maroon babydoll for her to wear tonight. Satin cups clung over her breasts while it transferred to a tight knit mesh-like material that flowed over her body and hit her upper thighs. The panties had been a bit of a different choice, rather simple silk ones with lace trim. She’d expected lace, a g string, something else but they were really nice. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it made her feel sexy as she had tugged them up her thighs and settled the waistband on her hips. The outfit had surprised her a little considering she had thought maybe he’d want her to wear something completely form fitting or restrictive, like spandex or leather, but instead he’d gone with something more flowy and light. Maybe he was starting them soft for the first time, but it was the sexiest she had felt so far in her life. 

“You look incredible.” He mumbled, placing the coat numbers on the counter with their phones and his keys. “Fuck me.” Lithe fingers traced over the straps, the feather light touch stopping at the necklace he’d chosen for her tonight. A simple gold chain with a heart. At first she had thought he would give her one of those collars, but she wasn’t sure how that worked. 

“I was going to give you the one with my first initial, but I was saving that.” The admission made her eyebrows raise. Why hadn’t he done that? “I wanted to ease you into it, and for some reason you’ve been turnin’ me into a possessive son of a bitch. Wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep composure if it was on there like that… But I don’t think that matters too much now, anyway.” 

Harry had always known he was attracted to Y/N in otherworldly, almost inappropriately intense ways. While he could be a jealous man, he hadn’t felt it to this degree. Irritated that she didn’t have his name on her neck or a traditional sign of ownership. He was a weak man when it came to her, but he didn’t mind when he could see her preen slightly over his words. The one thing that was soothing his inner caveman was the fact that she had marks from him on her body. Love bites blooming from the swell of her left breast and one he’d sucked on the right side of her neck, a few little bruises from his fingers digging into her hips… They were little badges of honor. 

He’d caught her this morning, admiring them in the foggy mirror. He’d come to bring a fresh towel before she got into the shower and watched quietly as she ran her fingers over the marked skin, the tiniest little smile on her lips that made his cock twitch. If they hadn’t had plans to come here tonight he would have bent her over the counter and gave her more. That silent appreciation at the tiniest hints of ownership meant more than she would ever know. 

“I can wear it next time.” She peeped, meeting his eyes. “I like this one too, but… I like the other idea.” 

The silence was loud for a moment as he observed her, the admission making her look a little flustered. Every day it seemed they were slipping into something far more serious than they’d set out to, but the unspoken words lingered under their tongues. It wasn’t the right time to discuss. “Noted.” Thumbing over her chin, he nodded at her before tucking the tickets from the coat check into the pocket of his pants. “Come on then, Pet. Let’s have a look.” 

—-

Y/N’s eyes were wide as they took in the vast room around her. 

Holy fuck. Harry hadn’t been kidding about it shocking her system. 

His hand held the back of her neck as she was guided towards the bar, where she was warned didn’t sell any actual alcohol for safety reasons. It matched and exceeded her expectations upon first glance. 

The stage was set up with some sort of bench, but it was obvious they’d come before the show had begun. People milled about, laughing and talking as if nothing abnormal was happening- like the woman in her all spandex dress chatting to the bartender, drink in one hand and chain in the other. Connected to the other end of the chain was a man on his knees for her, leather mask covering everything but his eyes and mouth. Not far from her in a booth across the way, a man had a woman on his lap with his hand down her top, playing with her tits and keeping a conversation. 

It wasn’t extreme, no, but it had her a bit spooked. Even more so when she looked to the side and saw a girl on her knees and her face buried under another woman’s dress. So he hadn’t been kidding- it really did happen anywhere. 

Heat flushed over her chest as she averted her gaze, blinking rapidly as she tried to calm her heart. It wasn’t a bad thing, she didn’t think, because she could feel herself becoming excited. Just a walk through and she was warm in her tummy, feeling that anticipation climbing all the way up her throat. She had to wonder what Harry was going to surprise her with tonight. 

“Alright?” He mumbled, turning to face her as they approached the bar. The promise of a sweet, sugary mocktail had been enticing but now her curiosity was wanting to take over. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head, meeting his eyes. The hand on the back of her neck gave a subtle squeeze, pulling her a little closer. “It’s… I’m curious to see what else goes on, but I think it’s interesting.”

“A lot of things are happening in the rooms. The main stage show isn’t anything too extreme, but the rooms are different theaters on this level, and playrooms on the top level.” The split level was apparent to her now, reminding her a bit of a hotel lobby she’d stayed at once on holiday. Rooms surrounding the top with a walkway that looked down while the bottom was an open concept until it split into four hallways. The place was truly beautiful, albeit a bit intimidating. “What did you want to drink?” 

Y/N looked over the menu with curious eyes, smiling lightly when she saw someone had made a plethora of fruity and sweet concoctions modeled after bubblegum, blue raspberry, cherry, all sorts of stuff. There were more tame things, pina colada and mint julep, but considering she was experimenting tonight she chose something she normally wouldn’t. “Can I have the cotton candy one, Sir?” 

“You may, yes.” The subtle correction had her face flushing for a moment, but she could see he was teasing a little from the dimple threatening to break on his face. God, he was so gorgeous.

It was always apparent that Harry was handsome, but seeing him like this was a whole different experience. His shoulders were bigger, back straighter, a more controlled and poised version of him was at the helm. Was this his best self? Being a dominant, taking and guiding her? He’d said multiple times he liked taking care of people, liked being in charge, so it must feel really good to have her eyes on him at all times. 

When she’d brought up that she’d read a lot about people in her books had dominants that preferred them to avert their eyes, but he’d scoffed at it. In opposition, he’d told her to keep her eyes on him at most times. Joked about it soothing a bit of his ego, but she wasn’t sure how much of it was really a joke at this point. Either way, there would be no complaints about that when the man looked as good as him. Sharp jaw and nose, dark lips, eyelashes that pissed her off because they were so pretty… The man had a way about him that reminded her of classical art. 

When the bartender came over he was greeted with a smile, which he reciprocated with a small one of his own before ordering her the drink she wanted and himself some sort of iced tea thing. She had no clue, considering she was a little busy zoning out. His hand had started to subtly massage the back of her neck and her eyes had glazed over a bit, being pressed into his side making the scent of him increasingly soothing. Perhaps he was doing it for that exact reason, but that was why he was in charge. He knew what to do to calm her nerves. 

As soon as the bartender walked away, he turned back towards her. “And how are you feeling?” Eyes dipping over her body, Y/N swallowed as she knew exactly what he was talking about- and why he looked so damn smug. 

He’d helped her put a plug in before they left. The smallest one, but it had still worked her up a significant amount. There had been something weirdly erotic knowing that he would know why she was shifting around. Trying anal for the first time the night prior had been a mind meltingly good experience, making her even more eager to try new things. It had always been a fantasy of hers, but she hadn’t realized just how good it would feel. How full and connected she would be with it- but again, that was possibly just a Harry thing. He had made the simplest thing far more pleasurable. 

“Good.” She nodded, watching his eyes linger on her breasts. He’d spent time after their sex last night kissing on them in appreciation, letting his lips hover over the marks before he lotioned over her body. Physical touch had to be his top love language, she had deduced. “I, um… It feels weird when I walk. But not bad, Sir.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re walking a bit differently, but you’ll grow used to it. Even more so, I think you’re going to learn to love it.” Adjusting the strap that seemed to be slipping down her shoulder continuously, he let his touch linger. “You’re going to be my good girl and let everyone see how perfect you are, aren’t you?” The tone of his voice dropped into a deeper one, her body reacting to it as she leaned into his touch. “I can’t decide if I want you perched on my lap all night, or if I want you on your knees in front of me.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Decisions, decisions.”

“Whatever you’d like me to do, Sir.” She replied, though there was no true preference. Y/N was aiming to please tonight, subconsciously feeling the pressure to prove she could be a good submissive for him. 

“Oh, I know, pet. You don’t have a choice in that.” He laughed under his breath. “Precious girl. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll tell you to sit and speak like my good Pup, alright? You just stick to me.” 

Y/N a few months ago would probably try to fight his words and the condescending tone because that was what was expected of her. Y/N a few months ago would ignore her body when it reacted to those words. Y/N now, though, let her eyes widen and simply agreed, because deep down that’s what she’s been wanting to do. 

When the drinks arrived, her eyes widened at how pretty it was. A soft pink with some sort of glittery shimmer in the drink, the movement of the liquid catching the light. It was by far the most beautiful drink she’d ever seen in her life, and she didn’t want to waste a drop. Holding it in her hand, she let Harry wrap up with the bartender before turning back to her with a new look on his face. “C’mon, it’s time t’say hi to some people. Best behavior.” With a slight pinch to her chin, he led her off.

Harry’s familiarity was evident in how easily he navigated the club. Winding through people with polite nods and greetings, he radiated the now familiar air of power. It was a little different here, though. While he always held the power in the bedroom, there was something that had snapped on his face when they walked in the room that had her ever curious about his past experiences here. Experiences she wouldn’t ask about for her own sake of delicate feelings, but things that he must have done, said, experienced in this secret cove of underground pleasures. 

Yes, it was a bit whips and chains-y, but there was a classy layer to it that she liked here. The weird feeling of belonging settled in her gut as his hand squeezed the back of her neck, keeping her close as they approached a slightly elevated section. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, taking in every bare tit, every collar, every hand wrapped in hair and laugh in the room as he led her up towards their destination that she had almost missed it completely.

Thankfully she caught herself as Harry gently urged them to a stop right in front of a booth full of people. Semi circular, the tabletop was a bit far from the booth itself- but it was clear why as she looked down at the people. 

There were two people on their knees of their perspective dominants. A brunette with her cheek resting on a blonde woman’s knee, fingers brushing through her dark hair and sparkling nails catching the light as she did so had particularly caught her eye. Instead of a tight outfit like the domme at the bar, she had on a powersuit. Her eyes didn’t look down towards her submissive though giving her physical attention, sharp hazel eyes looking over Y/N like a examination. 

“Isn’t she delicious, Styles?” She purred, cat like grin painting her red lips. “Who is she? I know you’ve been gone for a bit… is she why?” The woman seemed pleased at the prospect of Harry having a new submissive, even if she looked at her like she could eat her for lunch. Her face felt hot as she looked up at Harry, the ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“She is.” The confirmation had the people at the table grinning which caught her a bit off guard. They didn’t know she was temporary and he seemed in no rush to tell them- and neither was she. Maybe they could play pretend here, like she was really his and he wanted to keep her for good. The first of many times they’d come together for as long as they felt so inclined. “This is Y/N. She’s been a wonderful little pet for me. My favorite.” A hand fondly ran over her hair, a little smile on his lips now as he was happy to show her off. “She’s a little new to this, but very eager to learn. So tread lightly, yeah?” 

For some reason the information being told didn’t offend her. Maybe if someone else here seemed like it was funny to them, if they’d scoffed, did anything but look understanding she would feel that shame, but they didn’t. They simply nodded, letting Harry slip into the end of the booth. “On my lap for now, Pet.” He patted his thigh, holding his ringed hand out for her to take.

Y/N could feel eyes on her as she nodded, a quiet ‘yes sir’ leaving her lips as she was adjusted over his lap, legs over his thighs as he wound his arm around her waist to keep her body steady. “Say hello.” The words weren’t disguised as a request. It was clearly an order. Why did she find it so hot? 

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you all.” She peeped, leaning into Harry’s touch as he gave her a squeeze of reassurance. It was pretty clear on who was a dominant at the table, versus the submissive. Two were on their knees, two sitting under their dominant’s arms, and one in a similar position to Y/N. 

“Is it your first time here?” A man asked this time. His voice was softer spoken but there was an edge to him that screamed that he was in charge. It was a little similar to Harry in which he looked kind, but anyone with sense would know not to question their particular brand of authority. 

“It is, yes. H-Sir was helping me adjust before I came here. He is the best teacher.” Throwing in a bit of praise for the dominant had the desired affect, lips brushing her cheek in a chaste kiss. 

“What are your thoughts? It’s intimidating, isn’t it?” The woman from before asked curiously, though the hungry spark didn’t leave her eye until Harry spoke to her. 

“I’m not sharing her, Cara.” He said lowly, his hold tightening on her. “She’s not on the menu. Look but don’t touch.” There was a slight edge to his voice though it wasn’t hostile quite yet. Secretly, Y/N let herself preen over the possessive nature being shone through. Knowing he had no desire to let anyone else have a taste of her was beyond comforting- which, she knew was entirely ironic considering the context in which they met.

“Oh, boo.” She sighed. “You’re very beautiful. Harry’s not fond of sharing his chips either so I should have known, but there’s no harm in trying.” The demeanor shifted slightly to something lighter. “My girl likes to have playmates sometimes, but we’re a little picky.” 

Y/N could only imagine. If Harry expressed desire to add someone in for a scene she wouldn’t be too fond of letting just anyone in… but then again, she didn’t want to share in at all in the first place. It wasn’t a closed minded thing, more so the idea of someone else taking his attention away from her making her stomach ache. 

“It’s good to be picky.” Harry nodded. “But my girl isn’t up for shared scenes. I don’t think I’ll ever want to share her.” Fingers brushed over her cheek, still cool from his drink. “I don’t think anyone can blame me for being selfish with a beauty like this.” 

Heat flooded her body, a shy smile on her lips as she looked at him and watched his eyes darken. His pupils dilate. There was no question in her mind that there was truth to his words in this way she had just witnessed them, but it still felt unreal. “You wouldn’t want to share me either, would you?” The words had been softened just for her consumption, the moment being looked over by the others who began talking amongst themselves. For them, though, they were in their own little bubble. 

“No, sir.” The whisper matched his own volume, but the answer made him pleased. She could tell by the look on his face, lightening her own mood just by that alone. Y/N never knew how much she would truly enjoy this sort of thing, never understood how much Harry would change her life, but she was here now and it felt far more intense than one could imagine. 

“Then we’re settled, yeah? They can watch us, but m’not gonna let them touch you. Nor me.” The addition made her giggle, though it was cut off when he caught her lips in a soft kiss. Gentle pressings over her mouth, she counted three before he pulled back and rubbed over her chin. A wistful look followed, his eyes full of contemplation as he looked her over. Back and forth, his thumb swiped the remnants of the kiss before he let himself out of the mindset, leaning back into the booth. “Since you’ve had your greetings, I want you on your knees for me.” Reaching behind him he got a little cushion, dropping it on the floor. Spreading his legs out, he motioned for her to get between them. At least he was thoughtful with her poor knees. 

Y/N was weirdly excited for it. Slowly sinking down and settling with her heels touching her bum, she looked up at him expectantly as he watched her get settled in her new position. It felt… right, being here. Like this. Looking up at him as he spread his legs and looked down at her with a practiced patience on his face. “Sit quietly like a good girl. We’re going to go watch that show in a room in 20 minutes. If you can behave here, I’ll make sure you cum tonight.” 

Y/N knew what he meant. Not to provoke him and get him hard. As much as she wanted to do that, wanted to mouth at his cock and be a brat so he’d force it in her mouth,’or her over his lap to redden her ass, she wasn’t quite that brave yet. Tonight was to prove she could be a good girl for him, the best she could be. Maybe if she was good enough, he’d tell her that he was keeping her. 

Listening to his order, she rested her cheek on his thigh and closed her eyes as she found herself in the situation the other woman had been when they’d arrived at the table. His fingers sprawled through her hair as he talked quietly amongst friends, twirling tendrils between his digits as he got to the ends of it. Every so often the submissive could feel his eyes look down at her, which had her opening her eyes and smiling up at him. The pleased expression he had each and every time had her wondering if he knew what went through her mind. 

If he told her to break up with Danny? She probably would. If he confessed that he had feelings for her, that he wanted her as his real partner, submissive or not, she would release herself from the other relationship she was having major doubts about anyways and go to him. Belong to him seriously.

Even being on her goddamn knees in front of him at a kink club, she felt more appreciated than she ever had. Even when he called her a dirty bitch, a nasty whore, a cockslut, she felt more worshiped and heard and ultimately cared for than she ever had. Harry listened to her. There was never a singular time since they’d started this arrangement that he hadn’t thought about her wants or safety in great detail. He hand fed her fruit he sliced by hand after scenes, brought up juice to her mouth and whispered to her to have sips after he was finished ruining her body. He broke her apart, yeah, but he built her back up again. Even better than he had first found her, if she was being honest. 

Never in her life has she felt as heard, scene, and adored as she did when Harry gave her aftercare. When he texted her through the week to make sure she had a good day. When he asked her her favorite color the first day they met and made sure she had light pink straws in her drinks each and every time. Harry paid attention to her. Not just in scenes, where he seemed to pick apart her every reaction and know just how much she could handle, but last night too. He could feel her upset, did what he could to fix it. Proved yet again that he was the better option of the two.

What was stopping her? 

Fear. Not of Harry, not of Danny, but fear of losing this feeling. She’d end up alone again, wistful for this exact scenario where she knew she couldn’t get it again. No one else would be able to make her feel the way Harry felt in her body and her mind and that was fucking terrifying. Admitting that only to potentially be rejected was worse than staying in a bad relationship. Maybe she was a coward- she knew she was- but she needed his promise. His words. Too many times in her life she had been let down, let her heart hurt and chip and bruise. A rejection from him would shatter her heart and all the work she had put into mending it and the wall she had tried to build up to make her softness toughen up a bit would be inconceivably damaged. 

Times like tonight, meeting his eye and watching him tuck her hair behind her ear as she rubbed her face against his knee, she swore she could see the golden flecks of longing in his eyes too. When they were in bed after their scenes and his arms wrapped around her so he could haul her back into his body, she could feel inklings of something more under her skin. Even when he’d greeted her last night with a kiss in his driveway, a kiss she knew would lead to nothing sexual and just a genuine token of affection, she had felt that something was more with him. And yet she was frozen with fear every time she went to ask him how he felt about her. Terrified that he would reject her and their entire dynamic would be screwed. 

Little did she know, he had the same dilemma.

Watching her nuzzled into him, sitting so fucking perfect and pretty and meeting his eye with those gorgeous fucking smiles, she looked so content with him. Like she was made to be in this exact scenario. He’d never felt more proud of having someone on his arm, and yet she wasn’t actually his. He just wasn’t sure how much longer he could last without spilling those feelings towards her.

His holdback was the fact that she was the one in a relationship. She’d tried to mend things with Danny, but part of his confusion was knowing if she did it because she wanted to or if he had stupidly pushed that by trying to do the right thing about it when she expressed her resentment towards him. All he wanted to do was make the girl happy. It was only a few months of knowing her. He shouldn’t feel this much, so soon. 

Realistically he knew that it was likely because they shared such intimate parts of themselves with one another. This dynamic, lived in even if only on the weekends, was intense and serious and Y/N leaned into every bit of it with an eagerness only matching her nicknames sake. A puppy. So fucking sweet, she’d roll over and show belly if he asked her to right now, but instead she was content with her face on his leg and his hand in her hair. 

His mind wandered to what it could be like if she left the other man. If she walked away and went into his arms, let him show her how he could treat her so much better. What she didn’t know as well was he was still holding back a bit. Emotionally, more so.  

His heart felt like it was in his throat when he grazed his fingers past her cheek, watching her lashes lift off her cheek so she could give him her eyes. “You’re bein’ perfect for me, Pet.” He murmured, watching as she preened. His words always seemed to have a significant effect on her but the girl was slipping into a more submissive state with him here. It was his job to take care of her, to show her the things she’d been missing out on and desperate to experience. “Are you ready to go and watch?” 

“Yes, Sir.” She lifted her cheek from his knee and angled her head back, allowing him to tap his fingers over her chin and get a smile from her. Everything felt more loaded than they could talk about right now, but she was doing exactly what she needed to do. Falling into line so perfectly that Harry really didn’t have much he needed to correct. Pride filled his chest as he let himself smile back at her, nudging her to stand up. 

“Lets go then. Stay with me.”

—-

Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected in this scenario, but she knew there was nothing that would be realistic in her mind that could have prepared her for this night. Walking into the room where the scene had already begun, Harry held the back of her neck and led her towards a loveseat in the back. The throple on stage weren't paying anyone much mind, the room half full as the sounds of a masculine groan filled the air. The stage was lit with two doms and a sub, all beautiful in their own right. 

She stayed quiet as she waited for directions from Harry, eyes on him as he settled himself on the seat. He didn’t speak, instead grabbing her waist and turning her around to sit on his lap. Back against his chest, he spread his legs and hooked one each of her thighs over his own to sprawl her out. The position left her rather exposed too, but the thrill of it caught in her chest as she felt the thick of his cock against her ass and his arm wrapping around her waist. 

“Look at them.” He mumbled, keeping his tone quiet. “Watch.” With his chin against her shoulder, he slid his fingers over her thighs. Up and down, the touch slightly distracted her from the performance going on up the stage. It was becoming very apparent that her devotion to the Dominant was deeper rooted than she’d thought. All this time she’d been anticipating this, but all she could do was think about him and his hands on her. 

“How does it make you feel?” His lips grazed the shell of her ear as he looked towards the show himself. “They make a nice little show, don’t they? Is that something you’ve thought of?” In front of the girl on her knees stood the Domme and other Dominant. The Domme’s hands held a leather leash connected to the collar of the girl, wrapped around her fist as the other hand gripped the submissive’s ponytail to bob her head on the man’s cock. Y/N did her best to pay attention to the performance in front of her, the wet heat between her thighs getting more intense as his fingertips brushed up and down the exposed, vulnerable flesh of her inner thigh. Images of it being them flooded her brain, the barriers breaking as his lips nestled right underneath her ear, puckering just so. 

In her vision, there would be no Domme. The scene would include just him and her, his hand wrapped around the leash tight as a show of ownership. Her collar would be prettier, something more suited to her personally. Maybe a pink leather or more of a chain with a heart charm like she’d seen on one of the other subs at the table, but it would be one he picked out special for her. His fist would have her locks wrapped around it like a secondary leash, using her mouth and showing off just how much she could take. Ideally, it would be after she trained a bit more to take him deeper. She loved the idea of people being able to watch her, to see her take him down her throat. Being able to see how well Harry handled her, how she listened to him, the dynamic between them. Maybe at some point she’d be able to be a bit more bratty and get punished for it- having him fuck her throat as a punishment, or use his hand against her ass. 

“Hm? I asked you a question. Answer me.” He muttered, nipping the delicate skin of her neck. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head. Can almost hear it from here.” 

Y/N swallowed, leaning further back into him as she tried to unfurl her tongue to tell him. “I-I like it. I’m thinking about us up there, Sir.” Keeping her voice quiet to be respectful to the throuple, she tried to be loud enough for him to hear. It was hard with how shaky her voice felt, his fingers trailing over the edge of her humid panties. It was hard to think straight with him touching her, his scent all over and his mouth on her neck and the sound of the praises from the Domme, the submissive choking slightly on the Dominant’s cock. 

“You are?” He sounded intrigued. “Hm. I think you’d look pretty up there. What part of it is making your poor cunt wet like this?” Fingers tapped against the damp gusset of her panties, teasing with the light touch. It wasn’t enough to make her feel much relief, but the knowledge his hand was there was enough to make her swallow back a whimper. “I know you love my attention, but I’m starting to think you’re a bit more of an attention whore than I thought.” 

The light degrading made her dizzy, the arm around her waist lifting to grip her throat lightly. “Keep talking, Puppy. Quietly.” 

It was hard to keep talking but she tried her best. It was a little unnerving to realize just how much mental power he had over her, but she knew she was safe. Maybe she felt a little pathetic that such light touches had her in a tizzy, but this whole night had been edging, hadn’t it? This was the main event, watching people indulge in the taboo pleasures like it was a theater show while her own Dominant teased her over her panties. “I-I like that she has the collar n’stuff, and people are watching her choke on it.” She whispered out, breathing getting a little harder as he nudged her clit lightly with his thumb. Rhythmic back and forth, just a tiny hint of his touch but it was enough to make her want to buck into it. Harry was making her feel insane, but the entire thing was playing into it. 

Watching them on the stage, knowing other people were around that could see her being spread open and touched like this, the way Harry was hard under her ass, it all had her tummy hot and head fuzzy. “And I like that they’re bein’ a little mean to her. Makin’ fun of her, Sir.” Her tongue felt a bit too big for her mouth as she admitted to those things. The condescending teasing of the Domme to the Submissive each time she failed to take the full length down her throat had sent a zing to her cunt, imagining Harry calling her those names and giving the mean encouragement to get her to do her very best in front of all the other people. 

“Christ, you’re a whore.” Harry laughed incredulously into her neck. “You want to be degraded like that in front of other people? Because… I know for a fact you can’t take all of my dick into that throat. S’a bit too big and as cockhungry as you are, I think you’d be a little embarrassed about not being able to do what you should be able to.” The twinge of shame melted into arousal, his thumb nudging her clit a little harder. Was it a reward?  She didn’t know, but she didn’t want it to stop.“As for the collar…” Fingers uncurled from her waist , moving up to collar her throat. “I think a better one would be better suited for such a slutty puppy. Jus’ didn’t realize you needed to be leashed too.” 

His smallest finger went underneath the necklace that served as a collar for the night, tugging lightly at it. “You’d need to belong t’me properly for that. I don’t collar up just anyone, baby. Is that something you really want?” It was probably not the correct time to dip his toes into the question of a more serious arrangement, but he wanted to hear her answer. 

“Uh-huh. I want it so bad, Daddy. I can be so good for it, I’d love it.” Her whine was a little too loud, a coo leaving his lips as he lightly applied pressure at the sides of her throat to shut her up. The answer, the fucking eagerness of it had his cock twitching against her ass and his heart pumping a bit harder. Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing, but the vulnerability of the moment had him doubting it was some sort of illusion. 

“Mm. We can discuss that when you’re not so worked up and soaking the pretty panties I got you. You need to keep your voice down, be respectful.” The warning was twofold. He had to table that conversion or he’d get his hopes up far too soon. The slip up of honorifics, though, had been intriguing. “I’m Daddy right now, hm?” 

“Mhm.” She attempted to nod as his fingers lightened their pressure. “Touch me, please. I’m achy.” Squirming slightly in his arms, another squeeze to her throat had her freezing in place before his other hand decided to ease down the waistband of her panties. 

“I don’t know how I feel about you making demands, Pet, but you’re making quite a fucking mess.” His voice dropped, feeling her pulse in his fingertips. “God, you’re gonna cum so fuckin’ quickly. I can feel it.” Y/N was drenched, his thumb finding her slippery clit to rub in light circles. “It’s a little too much for your filthy whore mind, isn’t it? Sitting at my knees, acting like the perfect little submissive for me… Seeing all those pretty people playing, dressed up so nice. And now Daddy’s brought you to a nice little show. You paying attention?” He urged her attention towards the show. “He’s gonna cum on her face, just like I’ve been dying t’do. Or are you more aroused at the knowledge that anyone can look over and see your pussy being pet like a desperate slut?”

Yes, yes, yes. All of the above, check all the boxes. Y/N would beg more if she could find it in her brain to talk, but it felt so good. The light grip at her throat making it slightly harder to breathe, how he was talking hushed into her ear and the vibrations made her feel even more squirmy, his fingers on her cunt, she just felt like she was dreaming. Like this was some sort of high before the ultimate one, looking to the side and catching a few eyes on her. She’d made a tiny bit of noise before, surely making people aware that she wasn’t behaving, but it felt all too real now. 

“And now you’ve gone dumb for me. I need an answer from you, Angel. Need a color before I make you cum.” He nudged her face to the side, lips resting against the corner of her own. “Color?” 

“Green. I’m so good, I-I…” She panted, eyes glazed but looking into his own. They were hooded, dark, and it was obvious in all ways that he was aroused too. He showed more restraint than she did, but he wasn’t unaffected by it all. “Sir…” With little thought to consequences, her own hand came up to the back of his head and pulled him closer so she could press his lips against his. 

Harry didn’t usually kiss in the club. He didn’t like them being seen in that way most of the time, feeling that those were supposed to be shared for more private and intimate moments- but Y/N had a way of making him throw a lot of his prior rules and regulations out the window. Didn’t she? He groaned quietly, licking into her mouth, trying to ignore the hot spark of arousal in his cock her hands tugging his hair closer to her had given him. For a moment, he gave in and enjoyed the taste of her tongue and the uncoordinated mess that was their kiss. He took the moment to slip two fingers into her cunt, curling them into her slick hole to get her to gasp. Hot and tight, he held back another moan at the feeling of her cunt fluttering around the intrusion. It was one of his favorite feelings, her breathing picking up against his mouth. 

The broad hand around her throat tightened again, making her eyes peel open again. Wet mouth illuminated by the red lights around the room, he panted against her open lips. “Remember your fucking place. You want a kiss? You ask. You aren’t in charge. I am.” He growled, trying to keep his voice down as he fucked his fingers into her. “I’m the one in charge. Not you. I choose if you cum or not, I choose if you get kissed or fuck. Your body is mine to play with. You’d do well to remember that, or you’ll be the next one on that stage.” He grinned maliciously. “And I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I won’t be as nice as I’ve been before.” 

Letting up on the grip, he swallowed her gasp with another kiss. 

It was moments like this that Y/N could see it. She could see this being her life, this being her night out with him. Instead of dingy bars with sports games she didn’t give a singular fuck about, she could be here watching shows and learning, she could have Harry’s fingers deep inside of her, his cock inside of her, whatever he chose, giving her pleasure that was immeasurable to what she’d ever known before. A literal wet dream came true. 

Y/N couldn’t respond, nodding lazily as the slick sound of her cunt being fucked with his fingers slicked up by her arousal became slightly audible. The throuple on stage was the loudest sound in the room, but underneath it all she could hear exactly what he was doing to her. It was humiliating to be this wet, to be this close to orgasm from a few minutes of his fingers thrusting in and out of her, a bit of choking, his whispers against her ear, a few people peering over at them and she loved it. His hand around her throat, keeping her tight to his body, and she felt the most free she’d ever been. 

There was an attempt to warn him, his fingers prodding right at her spot and her legs beginning to tremble as she squirmed slightly on his lap, but he could tell she wouldn’t be able to be quiet. He’d have to force her to be. “Let go. Make a mess on my fingers and be fucking quiet.” The dominant let her take another deep inhale before he returned his fingers to the sides of her neck, applying pressure exactly where she needed it to steal the rest of her breath. 

Y/N could see spots in her vision as she came. If he wasn’t stopping it, she probably would have sobbed out as she shook in his arms. Cumming hard and fast, hips bucking into his hand, his words cooed softly against her ear and brought up chills against her skin as the vibrations added to the sensations that tossed her over the edge. 

“There you go, stay nice and quiet. Cum all over my fingers, you perfect fuckin’ girl.” He coaxed, pressing them against that spot over and over again whilst his thumb rubbed her throbbing clit. She could feel the contractions of her walls around him, a deep breath being taken as he eased up on her throat to make sure she recovered, but he didn’t stop his prodding. “Work through it. People just saw that, yeah? Saw how good you are, amazing and how quiet you can be. Saw how beautiful you are when you cum for me. Such a precious angel.” Little kisses were pressed to her sticky skin, her mind pleasantly fuzzy and a little empty as his words soothed the orgasm that rocked through her body. “There we go, sweet girl. Y’did perfectly. Took your reward so well, yeah? You were made for this.” His praise added another layer of warm, fluffy comfort to the pleasant feeling that coated her body, the words echoing in her brain. All she could think about was how good she had been, how good it had felt. Good, good, good. She was a good girl and Harry was proud of her. “Gonna take you home in a few, baby. Just let you get a good cuddle in first, clean you up and sneak out of here. We’ll come back and you can see our new friends again.” 

This whole thing had pleasured her. Not just the orgasm, but the entire place. Her head had felt calm since she’d settled at Harry’s feet, quickly getting over nerves and settling into that feeling of correctness. Ease. It felt like she belonged here, even with the underlying anxiety. With anyone else but Harry she wasn’t sure if she would have felt that, but it had just been another experience he had made positive for her. Of course he did. He was perfect. 

He’d walked her through it, held her hand, helped her know what to expect but- She’d known she would like this sort of thing. Y/n had always thought about it, but actually experiencing it was a whole other beast. One she wanted to experience again, and again, and again- If Harry would let her.

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Eleven

ok so life things happened again so i wasn't able to finish this chapter quite as soon as i would have liked, but. considering how long it is i am hoping you'll all have a little bit of mercy on me. i don't know how it got this long, it wasn't supposed to be this long, but i knew i couldn't split it yet again, so. y'know. also i had this song on repeat the whole time i was writing this chapter, if you want the vibes. i don't have much else to say tbh but i hope you enjoy!

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~13k | cw: gender neutral reader, yet another festival sorry, reader has A Lot of anxiety this chapter, reader is nude around an adult they are not related to. nothing at all sexual happens but i wanted to give a heads up about it just in case.

Just as your mother had said, the rest of the week really did fly by. Because it was still winter break for school, Satoru and Suguru had nowhere else to be, so the three of you spent every waking moment together – and even some of the sleeping ones. You still slept in Suguru’s bed, wearing Satoru’s clothes every night, while the boys continued to share Satoru’s bed. You’d expected a fight to break out because of it at some point, but it never had. Which was a good thing, of course, but was still surprising.

The only downside to the week going by so fast was that, before you knew it, you had reached the day of the festival, which you had been dreading ever since Gojo-sama had informed you of it. 

That morning, you were woken by a servant entering the room and calling your name, which, of course, woke all three of you. Still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stepped out from behind the privacy screen that separated Suguru’s bed from the rest of the room. “Is something wrong?” you asked around a yawn.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she assured. “But we need to start getting you ready for tonight’s celebration.”

“Can’t that wait until after breakfast?” Satoru groused, scowling at the servant; even after all these years, he still wasn’t a morning person.

“I’m afraid not, Gojo-dono,” the servant replied with an apologetic smile. “Gojo-sama’s orders.”

Satoru’s scowl only deepened, but you cut in before he could argue.

“It’s fine, ‘Toru,” you told him, hoping you sounded as reassuring as you were trying to be. “I’ll catch up with you guys at lunch, okay? Just go back to sleep.”

He hesitated for a moment, still glowering at the servant, but he finally relented when Suguru bumped him lightly with his shoulder. 

“Fine,” the white haired boy grumbled, though his expression softened slightly as he turned his attention to you. “You can throw a tantrum if they start to bother you,” he said, expression completely serious. “Always works for me.”

Suguru rolled his eyes at the other boy’s words, but offered you a small smile. “We’ll catch up with you later,” he promised. 

Oddly reassured by Satoru’s advice and soothed by Suguru’s promise, you nodded, murmuring one last small goodbye before following the servant out of the room, Takara cradled to your chest as always. 

You were led to a part of the house you’d never been to before – the very center of the house, if you had to guess – and were a bit confused when you were ushered into a bathroom, where there was already a tub of steaming water. 

“But I just took a bath last night,” you said, more than a little confused as you turned to face the servant you had been following. 

“Gojo-sama’s instructions were clear,” she said simply, though she did look a bit apologetic. “He said you were to be bathed and thoroughly scrubbed clean before we dressed you for the event.”

You blinked dumbly for a moment at her words before something clicked in your mind. “You mean… I don’t just get to bathe myself? And I don’t get to dress myself after?”

“That’s correct,” she confirmed, without any sort of change in her expression. “It’s how Gojo-dono has always been prepared for events,” she added, as if that made the concept of being scrubbed and dressed by complete strangers any less horrifying. “It’s just how things are done.”

Though the idea made you more than a little uncomfortable, you weren’t confident enough to try and argue, too overwhelmed already by everything that was happening, and you hadn’t even gotten started.

Thankfully, the servant turned her back and allowed you a small amount of privacy as you undressed and climbed into the tub, after setting Takara on top of your clothes; she was still so small, and you didn’t want her to get cold while you were unable to hold her.

Once you were fully seated in the tub, the servant turned and began gathering the soaps and things she would need to bathe you, allowing you to soak in the hot water for a few moments. When she turned to you, though, she gestured for you to tip your head backwards. “Need to wet your hair so I can wash it,” she explained. Hesitantly, you nodded, then did as she asked. The hot water felt good against your scalp, but the woman’s fingers were anything but gentle as they worked the soap into your hair, her nails raking against your scalp somewhat unpleasantly.

Eventually she rinsed the soap from your hair, then rubbed something that looked a lot like lotion into the strands. Whatever it was smelled strongly of herbs, but you found you didn’t mind it very much. When she told you to stand so she could give you a good scrub, you wanted to refuse, to say you were capable of bathing yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue with her stern expression. So you stood, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as she scrubbed virtually every inch of your body, her movements thorough and efficient, if a bit rougher than you would’ve liked; not having to look at her as she washed you lessened the humiliation you felt, even if only a little.

Once you were deemed satisfactorily clean, the servant sat you back down in the tub and rinsed out whatever it she had put in your hair. Then she ushered you out of the tub, handing you a large, thick towel.

“Dry yourself quickly,” she said, “Then come through that door over there. That’s where we’ll be dressing you and getting you otherwise ready for the event.” As she spoke, she pointed to a door on the other side of the room you hadn’t noticed before – though, granted, you hadn’t been paying much attention. 

You nodded to confirm you understood, then waited until she had left the room to begin drying yourself with the towel. The material was soft, much softer than any other towels your family had ever owned, and that, if nothing else, was a relief. Once you were dried off, you secured the towel around yourself, then turned to Takara, who was sitting up and watching you curiously, head cocked ever so slightly to the right.

“Well,” you told her quietly, attempting a small smile. “Guess we should let them finish getting us ready, hm?” You carefully scooped up the hatchling and the pile of clothes she sat on, not sure if you were meant to leave them behind or not. Crossing the room, you pushed open the door that had been pointed out to you, and your eyes widened at the scene before you.

There were at least three servants in the room, and what seemed to you to be dozens and dozens and dozens of kimonos and coordinating accessories laid out across the multiple vanity tables in the room. Most of them looked like silk, shiny and in a spectrum of more metallic shades. It occurred to you after a moment that they were trying to match your outfit to the color of your dragon as best they could.

Everyone stopped what they were doing when you stepped through the door, turning to look at you with neutral expressions. Until they spotted Takara, at least. When they caught sight of the hatchling, their eyes all flew wide, as if they hadn’t believed she existed until right that moment. Snapping out of whatever trance your dragon seemed to have put them all under, one of the servants, a girl who couldn’t have been more than five or six years older than you, turned to you with a gentle smile.

“Do you have any preference about what colors your accessories are?” she asked kindly. “If we can start narrowing things down now, we can make this as quick for you as possible.”

The question caught you a bit off guard; you hadn’t expected to have any sort of say in the whole process, so you weren’t entirely sure how to even answer the question. “I, uh…” you hesitated, glancing around at everything laid out on the tables to see what your options were. Both fortunately and unfortunately, it seemed there were accessories in every color you could imagine and then some. “I think… could we do green?”

“Of course, there’s plenty of green to work with over there. Is there a specific shade…” the girl trailed off when she saw Takara stirring in your arms, and she gasped softly when the hatchling opened her eyes.

You offered a slightly bashful smile at her reaction, and asked, somewhat redundantly, “Can we try to match her eyes?”

You’d barely gotten a nod in response before the woman who had bathed you came over to you, taking the clothes from your arms and carrying them off to some unknown part of the room, presumably to be taken away and washed. Wordlessly, she ushered you into the center of the room, only stopping once you stood in front of a mirror.

“You’ll have to put her down while we get you dressed,” she told you, with a slight nod towards Takara.

Her words make your heart stop for a moment. She was right, of course, and you knew it, but you desperately did not want to be separated from your only friend in the room, especially since it seemed that getting dressed would not be a quick, simple process. 

“…Where am I supposed to put her?” you asked eventually, still not confident enough to try and defy her, doubly so considering she was just carrying out Gojo-sama’s orders. 

“Over there.” She gestured to the closest vanity table, which had a small section at the end cleared off except for a rather fancy looking cushion. So, after another moment of hesitation, you carried your dragon over to the cushion, carefully setting her down and promising her you weren’t going anywhere.

Once you were back in front of the mirror, the woman circled you slowly, looking you up and down as if trying to imagine exactly how things would fit on you before even attempting to get you into any of the possible outfits – outfits you knew would be far too complicated for you to ever get into or out of on your own. She said nothing when she turned away from you, instead carefully examining all the options laid out. They all looked almost exactly the same to you, but the servant woman clearly had a much more discerning eye than you, and skipped over most of the fabrics without even really considering them.

When she paused in front of one of the outfits, you craned your neck, trying to see which one had caught her attention, but your view was blocked by her torso. She glanced between the clothes and Takara a few times, then picked up the outfit and, still blocking it from your view, walked over to Takara.

“Please don’t touch her!” you blurted, once the woman was standing between you and your dragon. It was the closest thing to an argument you’d made all morning, and you just hoped you wouldn’t be punished for it.

“I won’t,” the woman responded, her voice gentler than you would’ve thought she was capable of. “I just want to make sure the color matches her scales.” As she considered the match, she continued to speak to you. “There are some undergarments on the chair beside the mirror. Do you see them?”

Glancing a little to the left of where you stood, you spotted the chair and the clothes she was talking about. “Yes ma’am.”

“I need you to take your towel off and put them on. You can step behind the mirrors if you would like a bit more privacy.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, the idea of being allowed a small amount of privacy so at the very least nobody else would see you naked giving you such a feeling of relief you worried for a moment that you might start crying. You hurriedly picked up the clothes, stepping into the small space behind the mirrors, which were in the corner of the room, and dropped your towel. The undergarments were nothing special, but wearing actual clothes again made you feel a little less out of your depth during this whole situation.

The servant woman was waiting for you when you stepped out from behind the mirror. “Just place your towel on the chair, if you will,” she instructed. She had the outfit draped over her arm, and though you couldn’t see all of it, you could see that it was the exact same shade of copper as Takara, which you were a little surprised by. You didn’t have long to linger on that realization, though, because as soon as you set your towel down on the chair, you were being guided to your previous spot in front of the mirrors by another servant.

Having multiple people invading your personal space in order to dress you quickly became overwhelming and, not having many other options, you closed your eyes, hoping maybe if you couldn’t see all the people working together to fasten your clothes around you, maybe you wouldn’t feel so overstimulated. Unfortunately, that didn’t help the way you hoped, the feeling of so many hands touching you at the same time too much for you to filter out in an effective way.

The hands touching you retreated after what felt like hours – though you knew logically it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes – but before you felt brave enough to open  your eyes now that you weren’t being crowded by strangers, a set of hands began to rake some sort of product through your hair, presumably to keep it out of your face. The rough touch was the final straw, everything now too much for you to bear even a second longer.

“Stop it!” you shrieked, shaking your head and pushing away the hands that tried to grab at you. “I said stop it! Right this second! Don’t fucking touch me!” Your voice was shrill, significantly higher pitched than usual, and frantic to the point that you barely recognized it as your own voice. You felt yourself beginning to shake on top of it, but before you broke down in front of the servants, Satoru’s words from earlier echoed in your head.

You can throw a tantrum if they start to bother you. Always works for me.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really thrown any sort of fit, but if there was ever a time to really let yourself do such a thing, this was it. 

So you went for it. Leaned into the more theatrical parts of your current mood, keeping your voice loud and upset and contorting your expression into something demanding and angry, rather than distraught as you finally opened your eyes. “All of you get out of here! I don’t want to look at you right now. I want to see my friend.”

“Now listen here, Gojo-sama told us—”

“I don’t care what he said! If you don’t all leave and send Satoru in to see me, I’ll start breaking things.” You weren’t entirely certain where the words came from, but you couldn’t let your surprise show to the servants, or they would almost certainly call your bluff.

The servants all exchanged looks, most of their expressions rather unsure, until eventually the oldest servant gestured for everyone to leave the room. “I’ll make sure Gojo-dono is here as soon as possible to speak with you,” she told you, arching a brow at you the tiniest bit before she followed the others out of the room.

Once they were all gone, you practically deflated, all the fight leaving your body. What you really wanted to do was curl up in a corner and disappear, but you resisted the urge, instead walking over to the cushion Takara still sat on. Gently, you scooped her into your arms again, the simple feeling of her rib cage expanding and contracting with every breath she took serving to calm you a good deal. You weren’t entirely sure how long you stood there holding her when a rushed knock sounded at the door, and you turned in time to see Satoru stepping inside, barely remembering to shut the door behind himself in his hurry to get to you.

“You threatened to break things?” he asked, his eyes wide and a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I told you throwing a tantrum would work!”

Though you wanted to join in his enthusiasm, now that Satoru was here in front of you, it was taking every ounce of your self control not to burst into tears. He noticed the way your bottom lip began to tremble, and his expression quickly dropped from excited to concerned. He held his hands up somewhat helplessly between you, apparently unsure what to do to provide you comfort.

“Oh god, uh, please don’t cry. I’m sorry, I was trying to be supportive, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“Didn’t upset me,” you cut him off, blinking rapidly to try and stave off your tears as you returned Takara to her cushion. “Could I hug you?” you asked, turning back to him. “Or are our clothes too expensive for that?”

Your weak attempt at a joke seemed to go over his head as he pulled you close, expression serious. “Who gives a shit about our clothes?” he asked, arms wrapped tightly around you. Once you’d wrapped your arms around him in return, he began to rock you side to side ever so slightly, thought you weren’t sure he was even doing it on purpose; it was something you’d frequently seen him doing over the years, almost any time he had to stand still for more than a few seconds, though he’d stopped doing it as much as you all got older. The familiarity of the move made you oddly nostalgic, and you lost the battle against your tears.

“Are you okay?” Satoru eventually asked, after your tears had quieted down to sniffles. He didn’t move to release you from the hug, though, which you greatly appreciated. 

“I’ve been better,” you admitted. Separating from him slightly, you wiped the last few straggling tears from your cheeks and looked up at him – when had he gotten tall enough for you to have to look up? you wondered, though you kept the thought to yourself. “How do you do this all the time? Don’t you just want to explode from all the attention?”

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, though his gaze was a bit unfocused as he considered your words. “I don’t think I notice all of this as much as you do,” he admitted eventually. “I’ve been putting up with all of this my whole life, so I’m just… used to it, I guess.” A soft sigh escaped him, and he gave a slight shrug. “I know that’s not really helpful, but it’s true. But you wanna know what else is true?”

“What?”

Satoru’s expression brightened a bit as he spoke. “Suguru and I are gonna be right by your side the whole celebration. We’re not gonna let anyone get too close, and if you want, we’ll sic Kenji and Niji on people so they leave us alone.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, sniffling and wiping your eyes once again. Though the promise to cause chaos on your behalf probably should have concerned you, it didn’t; you couldn’t feel anything but relief knowing that your friends would be there to stick up for you. “Thanks, ‘Toru.”

Dropping your hands from your face, it finally occurred to you that Satoru had come to see you all by himself. “Where is Kenji, anyways?” you asked curiously.

“He and Niji are being groomed for the event.”

“Groomed?”

“Yes.”

“How do you even groom a dragon?” You felt your brows furrow as you tried to imagine it; it’s not like dragons had fur that could be brushed, so you were having a bit of trouble imagining what else might be involved.

“I heard someone say something about giving them a bath,” Satoru said. “And then they’ll probably get their fluff trimmed up a bit and have their scales polished.”

“I’m sure Kenji’s thrilled about that,” you laughed, the mental image of the boisterous dragon being wrangled into a bathtub being exceptionally amusing to you.

This time Satoru laughed with you. “I’m sure I’ll have to spend days making it up to him with treats.” 

His words had you laughing again, though you were quickly cut off by the sound of your stomach growling, and embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry,” you apologized.

Satoru just frowned. “Did they not give you anything to eat?”

You shook your head. “No, they didn’t. I’m really hungry right now, though.”

He nodded slightly, then turned and walked over to the door. He poked his head out, having a brief conversation with someone that you could neither hear nor see, then closed the door and returned to your side. 

“Someone’s going to bring you something to eat,” he said simply.

“You didn’t have to do that, Satoru.”

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you for a moment. “I’m not gonna let you starve all day just because my dad didn’t think about the fact that you need to eat.”

You found his words oddly endearing, with how much they showed he clearly cared about you, and you thanked him quietly. Not much else was said for a few moments, and then there was a soft knock on the door. The boy was quick to answer it, accepting a tray from whoever had knocked before turning away.

When you saw what was on the tray, your mouth started watering. There was a whole breakfast spread available to you – rice, miso soup, eggs, fruit – fresh tea, and even a few little chocolates on the side. Your stomach growled again, but this time you felt much less embarrassed about it. You waited until Satoru had set down the tray before launching yourself at the food, picking up the bowl of soup and bringing it to your lips, not even bothering with the spoon as you gulped down the broth. You only stopped when you heard your friend laugh softly.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a shake of his head. “Not trying to make fun of you or anything, I’ve just never seen you go at a meal like that before.”

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you reminded him, swallowing your mouthful and wiping away a stray drop of broth from your chin before it could touch your clothes. It wasn’t that late in the day, all things considered, but that didn’t change how hungry you really were. Knowing that eating too fast would only make you sick, you slowed down as you ate the rest of your food, occasionally offering small bites to Takara, who accepted exactly one bite of egg before refusing everything else.

As you ate, you and Satoru talked a bit more, not really discussing much of anything at all, but the conversation being a welcome distraction to what had overwhelmed you in the first place. Once you finally finished, you realized you felt much better about everything – or at the very least, you weren’t dreading what was to come as much. With a soft sigh, you glanced back over at the door; all the servants had left you alone, just as you’d asked – or demanded, rather – but you couldn’t imagine they’d gone very far from the room. “I should really let them finish getting me ready,” you said, if somewhat reluctantly. “I don’t want your father getting mad because I’m not cooperating.”

“Fuck my dad,” Satoru said. “Who cares what he thinks?”

You felt as if your eyes were going to pop out of your skull from the shock of hearing your friend say those words. “Satoru!” you exclaimed, looking around to make sure nobody else had heard him.

“What? It’s true!” he insisted, trying incredibly hard to hide his grin. “You’re the most important person in the settlement now – maybe even the whole world. Why do you care what my dad thinks anymore?”

Heat quickly spread across your face at his words. Your real answer of because he’s a grown up seemed a little silly when you thought about it the way Satoru had phrased it, so you just shrugged. Then, remembering his mother’s words from earlier that week, you replied, “Everyone is important, Satoru. Remember? And nobody is more important than anyone else.”

Now it was Satoru’s turn to get a little embarrassed, his face going red almost to the tips of his ears. You couldn’t help but notice how it made his eyes look even more blue than usual, though that thought had your own face burning even more. “Why do you always have to be right about stuff?” he groaned, burying his bright red face in his hands. He’d always been one for dramatics.

“‘Cause I know a lot of smart people.”

He peeked through his fingers at you. “Am I one of those smart people?”

“Hmm… Well, sometimes. Maybe,” you hummed, then giggled as he scowled at your teasing.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. As usual, he wasn’t very good at hiding his true feelings, and you could see that he was barely suppressing a smile as he looked over at you. “I’ll see you again in a bit, okay?” He took your hand as he spoke, though whether the move was intentional or not, you weren’t entirely sure.

“‘Kay,” you agreed softly. “Bye, Satoru.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, then turned and made his way out of the room, back to wherever he’d been before you’d demanded to see him. Shortly afterwards, the servants came filing back into the room, though they looked more wary of you than they had before they’d left.

“Feeling any better?” the head servant woman asked, arching a brow at you.

“Yes,” you said, then added sheepishly, “and I apologize for my outburst earlier. I shouldn’t have screamed at all of you.”

The servants blinked at your words, exchanging looks of surprise; apparently they weren’t used to getting apologies for such behavior.

“All is forgiven,” the head servant assured you, her expression seeming to soften a bit as she looked down at you. “It’s a lot to process if you’re not used to it. We are nearly finished, though. I only need to take care of your hair while the other girls get your accessories sorted, and then we’ll be done.”

Her explanation helped you feel a bit more at ease, and you nodded, easily allowing yourself to be led back in front of the mirror. As the head servant woman went back to taking care of your hair – running her fingers through it and using some sort of product to keep it back and out of your face – the two other servants went through the green accessories that had been brought into the room, comparing them to Takara’s eyes, trying to find the ones that matched the best. Most of the items didn’t make the cut, but eventually they turned to you with a few things: a small sash belt – more for decorative purposes than to actually hold your outfit in place – and two bracelets that looked like they were strung with real emeralds, though you didn’t dare to ask; you didn’t want to know how much money was sitting around your wrists.

While one of the women fastened the belt around your waist, the other clasped the bracelets around your wrists, making sure they were tight enough not to slip off, but not so tight that they were uncomfortable. The head servant woman tilted your head up gently, making sure you were looking straight forward before she fasted a hairpiece in place. It looked like a cross between a crown and a headband, thin strands of gold, silver, and bronze woven together in a circlet, the metal so finely polished it glinted even when it wasn’t in direct light. It sat atop your head in such a way that it kept your hair from falling into your eyes, and though they weren’t visible, you watched as several pins were put in your hair to keep the headpiece in place.

You stepped a bit closer to the mirrors, examining your reflection with wide eyes. You’d been utterly transformed with just a bit of work from the servant woman, without any of them even putting any sort of makeup or anything on your face. For the first time in your life, you looked… regal; you looked like you belonged with people like Satoru’s family. The kimono you wore looked like liquid copper pouring over you, the fabric weightless on you and lending an almost inhuman fluidity to every one of your movements; it was far and away the most luxurious thing you’d ever had the privilege of wearing, and though part of your mind was fretting over not messing the outfit up, you were mostly just in awe of how you looked.

The servants allowed you a few moments to look over yourself in the mirror, then called you back so they could help you into your shoes; a pair of waraji sandals, though these ones were made with a sturdy wooden sole and brown leather straps, rather than the ones made of rope fiber that you saw many other people in the settlement wearing from day to day. Despite being made from wood, you found the shoes surprisingly comfortable. You weren’t sure how long the celebration event was going to last, but at the very least you wouldn’t be stuck in uncomfortable shoes the whole time. 

After a moment of consideration, the head servant woman turned to one of the vanities and picked up a few small tins of what you could only assume was makeup, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed; you’d hope you’d be able to avoid that. When she explained to you that all she was putting on you was a bit of tint to your brows and lashes, and a tiny bit of blush to your cheeks, you relaxed again; at least you wouldn’t have to wear anything on your lips.

“All finished,” she said after a few moments, offering you what you were surprised to see was a small smile. “Now that you’re ready, I’ll take you to meet with the others. You may bring the cushion for your dragon, if you wish.”

You nodded at her words, scooping Takara up into your arms and, after a brief moment of hesitation, you grabbed the pillow, as well, tucking it under your arm as you hurried out of the room.

Though your nerves had settled a good deal after getting to see Satoru, they began to eat at you again, your anxiety gnawing at your stomach, squeezing your throat and quickening your pulse. The nearer you drew to the front doors of the house, the worse you felt, every step somehow making the hallway smaller and smaller around you. Each breath you took felt more difficult, not quite able to pull enough air into your lungs anymore. Faintly, you heard someone call your name, and though the voice was familiar, you couldn’t quite pinpoint who it was until they stood in front of you.

“Are you alright?” Suguru asked, his voice gentle and his face concerned. You blinked a few times as you looked up at him, though he said nothing else as he waited patiently for a response from you. 

“I…” you began lamely, then let out a sharp breath before trying again. “I’m a bit overwhelmed, I guess…” The unintentional confession slipped a bit too easily from your lips for your liking, but there was no taking the words back once they were out.

Suguru’s expression only softened at your words, and he offered you a small smile. “That’s understandable,” he assured you. “There’s a lot happening today. I think I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t overwhelmed. But it’s alright, we’re here with you.” He turned and looked over his shoulder then, and you followed his gaze to where Satoru stood with his parents, Kenji pacing beside him while Niji sat obediently beside where Suguru had been standing just a moment before. 

The sight of your best friend eased your fears even more, and it felt a bit easier to breathe when he smiled at you. You noticed then that his starlight hair had been slicked back from his face, but you already knew that he would be running his fingers through it to get it back to its usual fluffy state.

“Come on,” Suguru urged, pulling you from your thoughts. “The celebration is starting soon, we can’t have the guest of honor arrive late.” The faint hint of teasing that ran through his words got a smile out of you, and you followed him over to the rest of the group. For a brief moment, you worried that you would be expected to lead the way to the city center, but much to your relief, Gojo-sama informed you that you’d be taking up the rear, with Kenji and Niji on either side of you. Though you would have preferred to walk between your friends, rather than behind them, you said nothing, not wanting to risk invoking Gojo-sama’s anger right before you were presented to everyone in the settlement.

Before you could all turn to leave, though, Gojo-hime’s soft voice called out from down the hall. She walked quickly until she reached the group, smiling as she knelt down in front of you. “I’m glad I caught you before you left,” she said, taking you in for a moment. “You look lovely in these colors,” she added, fingers trailing down one of your sleeves lightly before meeting your eyes again. “I just wanted to come and say I know you’re going to be wonderful tonight. Being the center of attention can be scary, but you can do it.”

Her words had tears burning your eyes, and you blinked rapidly to try and keep them from falling. “Thank you, Gojo-hime,” you whispered, clearing your throat softly and looking away afterwards.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She pushed herself up from the floor then, standing slowly as she turned to your friends. “Satoru,” she murmured fondly, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Can you promise you’ll behave this time?”

“I’ll try,” Satoru promised, his voice a little quieter than usual, and you weren’t surprised when you glanced at his face again and saw him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

That drew a soft laugh from the woman, and she brushed her knuckles lightly across his cheek. “I appreciate that,” she murmured, then turned her attention to your other friend. “Will you help keep him in line, Suguru?”

It was the raven haired boy’s turn to blush then, and he nodded. “Of course, Gojo-hime.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, seeming genuinely a bit relieved by the words. “All three of you try to have some fun together, alright? I’ll see you all later.” With that, she nodded to her husband and bid the rest of you farewell before making her way back down the hall. She hadn’t said why she wouldn’t be joining you for the celebration, but the way she pressed her fingers to her temples as she walked told you more than enough.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Gojo-sama turned and resumed his path to the front doors, pushing them open with a flourish and making his way down the walkway that led out of the estate and eventually right into the city, leaving you and the boys to scramble to catch up with him. Soon enough, though, you all fell into step behind him, four sets of wooden shoes clicking against the stones of the path nearly in sync; you were the shortest of the group, so you couldn’t quite match the rhythm of their steps without falling behind.

Your procession was slow, and while you were sure it was because Gojo-sama didn’t want to arrive at the celebration with even a single hair out of place, the longer it took to arrive and get the evening over with, the more anxious you became. In an effort to keep your mind occupied with something – anything – else, you focused on your friends, taking in their appearances for the first time since you’d reunited with them.

Satoru was wearing a white kimono, secured around the waist with a blue belt. It was simple, but paired with his hair and his eyes, it was striking. When he turned his head to steal a quick glimpse at you, he looked almost ethereal, despite the boyishness that still softened his features. Your eyes flitted away almost as soon as they met his, but you still noticed the way the corner of his lips turned up slightly as he turned away once again.

Apparently curious by what had caught Satoru’s attention – or possibly concerned about your current emotional state, or some combination of the two, you weren’t entirely sure which – Suguru glanced over his shoulder at you, as well. His features were still a bit soft with youth, but they’d always seemed more sophisticated to you, almost regal; he may not have been born with any noble blood in his family, but you wouldn’t know that just from looking at him. Dodging his gaze, too, you dropped your eyes, focusing instead on his outfit. The kimono he wore was black, though you noticed the tiniest hint of purple woven into the fabric when it caught the light just right; it seemed to form some sort of pattern, but you couldn’t quite make it out. The belt secured around his waist was yellow, and while out of context it was not a color you would have liked, knowing that it matched the shade of Niji’s eyes made it a bit more appealing.

Just then it occurred to you that all of you were dressed to match your dragons. You craned your neck to try and better see the colors Gojo-sama was wearing, but a large robe hid his outfit from your view. Maybe it’s just the three of us, you thought, once you’d given up on trying to see what Satoru’s father was wearing. Since Satoru and Suguru are the only ones with solid color dragons, and I’m the only one with a metallic dragon. Maybe we’re supposed to stand out more from everyone else. 

You continued to walk in silence behind everyone else for a few moments, when you suddenly realized something else: even if Gojo-sama was dressed to match his dragon, you wouldn’t have been able to tell; as far as you could remember, you’d never seen his dragon with him. The urge to tap Satoru on the shoulder and ask where his father’s dragon was was nearly overwhelming, but it lost to your common sense and your desire to avoid enraging the older man, especially before you were to be paraded around in front of everyone in the settlement. The curiosity still gnawed at you, though, and you resolved to ask your best friend about it later, when Gojo-sama was no longer in earshot.

Despite the slow pace, it wasn’t long until the sounds of music and people talking and laughing began to filter up from the city square. The sound was not unpleasant, but it made your situation really set in: you were about to be present to everyone who lived in the settlement. They were all going to stare at you, a lot of them were going to want to talk to you, and some of them might even try to touch Takara. Those thoughts spun around in your head, chasing each other in circles like Kenji and Niji often chased each other, and with every passing second you felt more and more consumed by the anxiety those thoughts filled you with. You were so caught up in those thoughts, in fact, that you didn’t even realize your friends had stopped walking until you ran into them.

Takara let out a squawk as she was briefly squished into your chest, the noise somewhere between offended and startled. You managed to hold her steady in your arms, though the pillow you’d been carrying slipped from beneath your arm. Suguru was quick to reach out and catch it before it could hit the ground, and for that you were thankful.

“Woah, hey, are you alright?” Satoru asked, placing a hand on your arm. His brows were furrowed with worry, and a frown tugged the corners of his lips down a bit. It wasn’t an expression you particularly liked on him, especially when you were the reason for it, but there was something reassuring about it in that moment; knowing he cared about you enough to feel such concern.

“I-I… uh…” you stammered, staring blankly up at him. The inside of your head was still so loud, so busy, that it drowned out your ability to do anything else. “I’m…”

You heard Suguru call your name, and you turned your head enough to look up at him, rather than Satoru. His expression was equally pinched, and you found that you didn’t like that, either; you hated knowing you were the cause of such worry for them, your two best friends in the world. “It’s okay,” he promised. “You’ll be okay. Can you take a deep breath?”

You tried to do as he asked, breathing in slowly, the air entering your lungs in a stutter, catching in your throat for reasons you didn’t understand. You were quick to exhale, much quicker than you had inhaled, and for some reason the act felt out of your control.

“Good, that was good,” Suguru encouraged, a small smile on his lip now, rather than a frown. “Can you try again? I’ll do it with you.” He waited until you nodded, then took a slow, deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, then slowly breathed out again. Matching him was still a bit tricky, but you managed well enough that you once again felt in control of your body.

“Feel better?” Satoru asked, once you seemed less tense and were breathing more steadily. He squeezed your arm lightly in reassurance, and you turned your attention back to him.

“A little,” you agreed. There were still nerves and a sense of unease lingering in the back of your mind, but they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, so you knew you’d just have to push through them for the evening. 

Satoru’s expression softened at your words, but before he could say anything further, his father turned around to see what had stopped the three of you in your tracks.

“Stop standing around,” Gojo-sama hissed, frowning deeply as he looked the three of you over. “We’re nearly there, now is not the time to drag your feet or start causing problems.”

“Apologies, Gojo-sama,” Suguru replied, bowing to the man as he spoke. “I just wanted to make sure they were feeling alright before we were in front of everyone.”

“Nonsense, they’re fine,” the man replied quickly, not even glancing at you; if he had, he would have seen that you were decidedly not fine, but you doubted he cared about that at all. “Now hurry up, I won’t have you embarrassing me or our family.”

“You shouldn’t speak so unkindly to them,” Satoru was quick to snap back, leveling his father with a harsh look.

Clearly taken aback by his son’s attitude, Gojo-sama simply stared at him for a moment. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said, you shouldn’t speak so unkindly to them,” Satoru repeated, an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there a moment before. “You’re being quite rude.”

“You would do well to remember your place, Satoru,” Gojo-sama warned, something almost cruel glinting in his cold blue eyes.

“And you would do well to remember yours. There’s a metallic dragon rider in your presence. Soon enough you won’t be the top authority in the settlement anymore.”

A chill ran down your spine at your friend’s words, and you exchanged a nervous glance with Suguru. Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to speak, to intervene before the confrontation devolved into something even less pleasant. “Satoru, Gojo-sama,” you said, silently thanking whatever deity might be listening that your voice didn’t shake. “We have a celebration to get to. I don’t want to disappoint the people, and I would hate for all the hard work to make the celebration happen on such short notice go to waste. We should go.” 

Though your words rang with conviction, you couldn’t have believed them any less. You didn’t care if you left everyone in the settlement hanging, and you didn’t really care if Gojo-sama spent more money than you could ever dream of having on a celebration that didn’t accomplish what it was meant to. All you cared about was being with your friends, and with finally being able to go home with your parents when this was all over. It didn’t matter to you that those were selfish concerns and desires, and it didn’t matter that being selfish like that was childish; you were still a child, after all. Regardless of your actual feelings, though, you hoped that your words would be enough to convince at least Gojo-sama to be practical and follow the plan for the evening, rather than lay into his only son to put him in his place.

The Gojo clan patriarch narrowed his eyes at his son for a long moment, as if silently debating the merit of beating the attitude out of his child right then and there, before he straightened up once again. “You’re right,” he agreed, sparing you only a fleeting glance before turning his back to the three of you once again. “We have an event to attend and appearances to uphold. Everyone back in line.”

You heard Satoru muttering under his breath as he followed his father’s orders, getting back into his place in the procession, his back to you and Suguru to his right. The raven haired boy offered you one last comforting smile and passed Takara’s cushion back to you, then returned to his place, as well. Kenji and Niji, who had remained uncharacteristically motionless on either side of you this whole time, chuffed quietly at each other, then bumped your sides lightly with their heads. With that, all of you were off once again, the city square growing closer with every step.

In an effort to keep your mind occupied and prevent another spiral like before, you looked down at your hatchling, now settled on her cushion, rather than cradled against your chest. Nobody had said anything to you about the way you’d been carrying her, but it had seemed obvious to you that it would look better – and certainly more dramatic – if you arrived with Takara in full view of the people in the settlement, rather than having her lost in the folds of your kimono. 

For once, your dragon was fully awake and alert, sitting oh so perfectly in the middle of the cushion and looking around at everything around her, though she still ignored Kenji and Niji; you were starting to think she was doing it on purpose. After a moment, she tilted her head back to look up at you, her emerald eyes wide and twinkling in the dimming light. Whether she knew how important she was, or how big of a deal was about to be made of her existence was unclear to you, but you could tell she did know that whatever was happening was important, not something to be slept through. She chirped at you quietly, as if to tell you everything would be okay, and stared for a few moments longer before turning her gaze forward again.

You followed her lead, though when you lifted your head to look in front of you, you were more than a little shocked to realize you were right outside the city square. The music had stopped, and everyone had gone silent, watching your procession and parting to make way for Gojo-sama. Your nerves began to creep in again, tightening your throat and chest and amplifying every little noise around you. You forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead, rather than darting around at the crowd in some futile attempt to spot a familiar, comforting face, and you found that that helped curb your anxiety. 

At first, the only sounds that filled the air were your procession’s wooden shoes on the stone of the square and the soft tinkling sounds of the glass windchimes as a breeze passed through. You weren’t sure if you were thankful for the silence or unsettled by it, but once people noticed Takara, you wanted the silence back.

It wasn’t hard to figure out when your hatchling was spotted by people; whispers swept through the crowd like a river, everyone’s voices hushed, and yet still it nearly made your ears ring to hear so many people talking all at once, especially since it was you they were speaking about. You couldn’t make out any particular words, but you knew what they were all wondering: why here, why now, why you, of all people? Things had been peaceful for your entire life, and as far as anyone else was aware, there were no looming threats on the horizon, no reason for there to be a metallic dragon showing up so suddenly, much less bonding with a commoner like you when there were plenty of other children about your age from more important and respected families than yours.

Everyone is important in their own way, Gojo-hime’s words rang in your head. Everyone is equally important. None of us can do what we do without each other.

The reminder washed over you, clearing your mind of anxieties almost entirely; it didn’t matter if anyone else didn’t think you were important enough to be a metallic dragon’s rider, because they weren’t any more important than you were. And even if there was anyone that was more important than you, that didn’t matter, either. Takara was your dragon, and you were her rider, and there was nothing that could be done to change that, regardless of what anyone in any position of authority might have wanted.

Though it felt like an eternity had passed since you first stepped into the square, you eventually ascended the steps of the platform in the middle of the square. Satoru and Suguru stepped off to the side, Gojo-sama standing directly behind them. Knowing what was expected of you but nowhere near happy about it, you stepped forward until you stood in front of them, then turned to face the crowd. This time, you weren’t able to keep yourself from searching the crowd for someone – anyone – you recognized, whose face would hopefully bring you some level of comfort. Just before Gojo-sama began to speak, you spotted your parents, nearly as close to the platform as they could get. They both smiled at you, relief at being able to see you again written plainly across their faces. That same relief nearly overwhelmed you, and you had to blink rapidly to avoid bursting into tears right then and there; it would displease Satoru’s father, and you didn’t want the small amount of makeup the servants had put on you to run down your face.

“Friends and neighbors!” Gojo-sama called out. Despite the fact that your back was to him, you knew he was wearing a fake, if somewhat smug, smile as he spoke. “I apologize for not telling any of you what this celebration is for before this, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise! As you can all see, our settlement has once again been blessed with the presence of a metallic dragon. A metallic dragon has not been seen anywhere in the world since the last one was born here and bonded with one of my ancestors, over three hundred years ago.”

You felt the way his eyes landed on you before speaking again. “The dragon may not have bonded with someone born into the Gojo clan this time, but I assure you that my family will be taking a special interest in the care, training, and education of both the dragon and her rider. Whatever the reason for this dragon’s arrival, we will be well prepared.” Another hushed murmur rippled through the crowd, but Gojo-sama was quick to keep it from growing into complete unrest. “For now, though, let us celebrate! We are blessed to be in the presence of such a creature.”

The murmur quickly roared into a cheer, and the music was quick to begin playing again, loud and cheerful, a perfect fit for a celebration such as this one. Unsure of what you were or were not allowed to do, now that the announcement about Takara had been made, you glanced over your shoulder at Satoru, trying to catch his eye. When that failed, you turned the other direction in an attempt to catch Suguru’s eye, instead.

He didn’t look your way at first, but when he did, he offered you a small smile and a nod; even without words, his assurance did wonders for the anxieties that still plagued your mind. As best as you could, you glanced behind Suguru to Gojo-sama, then back to Suguru. You wanted to know if you were allowed to move, to leave the platform and enjoy the festivities that were happening, but you didn’t dare to turn around and ask.

Apparently catching your silent question, Suguru nodded again, then turned to Satoru and bumped him a bit. You turned back to face forward, then, not wanting it to be obvious that you were the one with the question to begin with. As you heard the boys shuffling a bit behind your back, you looked down at Takara; she still seemed more alert than usual, but far less interested in her surroundings than when you’d first stepped into the city square.

“Father,” came Satoru’s voice. “We’re going to find our friends and grab something to eat. We’ll be back.” The fact that he didn’t phrase it like a question, and didn’t ask if you could go with him and Suguru both thrilled and terrified you, especially since he had already butted heads so intensely on the way to the festival.

“The two of you may go,” Gojo-sama replied easily, “but be quick about it. They must stay here, however.”

Instantly, tears filled your eyes, and your shoulders sagged, the sadness from not being allowed to even try to find your friends much heavier than you could have anticipated. All of this had been planned and was happening in honor of you and your dragon, and you weren’t even allowed to participate. It was a crushing feeling to experience.

“Why?” Satoru snapped, the edge from before sharpening his voice once again. “This festival is for them, is it not?”

“They are the reason for the celebration, yes. That means they need to be visible to people, to remind them and inspire them. So your friend must remain here.” Somehow the Gojo patriarch maintained his cool, but you knew he couldn’t possibly be so relaxed about the attitude his son was giving him.

“Wouldn’t they be more visible and inspiring if they were allowed to walk around, to talk to people? Don’t you think people would be better reminded of the reason for all this if they got to see Takara a little closer?” You couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard your friend this worked up, but it made your stomach flip to know he was so willing to defend you against anything he perceived as unfair.

There was a long, tense silence, and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing, the urge not to draw any further attention to yourself winning out against everything else, if only for a few moments.

“…Very well,” Gojo-sama eventually conceded, though he still sounded a bit irked. “Don’t be gone too long, though. The dancing will begin as soon as the sun goes down.”

“Thank you, Gojo-sama,” you heard Suguru say, then felt a hand at your back, gently guiding you back towards the steps of the platform. “Come on,” he encouraged quietly. “I doubt he’ll change his mind, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

You didn’t argue, not wanting to risk being called back to stand in front of everyone like a statue simply because Gojo-sama changed his mind. Chancing a glance over at Satoru as you all hurried down the steps and into the crowd, you saw his face was flushed with anger, his brows pinched together hard in the middle of his forehead; he was even more upset than you realized.

“‘Toru?” you called softly, trying to get his attention and hopefully pull him out of his negative thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nobody should get to take youth away from young people,” he replied. His tone had softened a bit, now that he was talking to you and not his father, but he didn’t seem any less upset. “Nobody, no matter what power they hold, should be allowed to do that. We’re still just kids, why the fuck can’t we act like it?”

Though you had heard your friend swear before, it still caught you off guard a bit when he did; you weren’t sure if it was because he swore rather infrequently, or because you were all still “too young” to be using language like that – according to the adults in your lines, anyways – or if it was something else entirely, but you supposed it didn’t really matter all that much, since your reaction was still the same every time. 

“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

A long sigh escaped him then, both frustrated and weary. “My father,” he said after a moment, running his fingers through his hair to get it back to its fluff, perfectly messy state; the slicked back style had lasted longer than you expected, but you were glad he was undoing it now. “Expecting you to just… stand there like a decoration, or something, and not letting you even say hi to your friends or even get a snack, or anything like that. Not wanting to let you still be a kid, even though we’re not even teenagers yet. It’s stupid, and it’s not fair. I can’t let him do that, especially not to you, or us.”

A brief pause, then Suguru spoke. “You really shouldn’t use language like that, Satoru. It’s not polite.”

Satoru scowled at his friend, but he pointedly did not acknowledge his words. “What do you guys want to eat, anyway? I’m starving, and we need to eat something before we have to dance.”

“Dance?” you asked, pausing long enough to lift Takara from the pillow and drape her across the back of your neck so you wouldn’t have to worry about dropping her. The words really hit you just a few seconds later, and you remembered that Gojo-sama had said something about dancing, too, before you’d all hurried off. “What dance? What are you talking about?”

“It’s a traditional dance,” Satoru explained, looking around at the various food stalls as he walked, trying to find something he wanted. “When the sun goes down, they’ll light a bonfire, and a few of us will do a very fancy looking, very annoying dance until we’re almost sweating through our clothes, and then we’ll all go home because we’ll be too tired to participate in the festivities anymore.”

“…will I have to dance?” you asked after a moment, glancing over at Suguru somewhat nervously. Nobody had even mentioned a dance to you, much less bothered to teach it to you, but you couldn’t imagine that you would be allowed to abstain from the activity. 

Satoru paused then, turning back to face you, confusion plastered on his features. “Nobody said anything to you?”

You shook your head, swallowing thickly. Before you could get too caught up in your thoughts again, though, Suguru carefully took your free hand in his own, giving it a light squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “You probably will have to dance, but Satoru and I will guide you through it.”

“It’s not hard,” Satoru added, and you could tell he was trying to hide his annoyance, but he wasn’t all that good at it.

“But you just said—”

“I said it looks fancy,” he interjected, his expression truly softening now. “But it’s not hard, I promise. If it was hard, I would tell you. Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No,” you conceded, then let out a shaking breath. He really hadn’t ever lied to you, and you couldn’t imagine that he would start now, not when it would lead to public humiliation for you. 

“Exactly. Now, come on. We really do need to eat something before we have to dance until our legs fall off.”

Ignoring all the festival attendees was easier than you expected, as you allowed yourself to be led to various food stalls. Kenji and Niji walked far enough away from the three of you to create a bit of a bubble, and nobody was able to get close enough to make you uncomfortable, which was a big relief. Though you’d originally said you didn’t have much of an appetite because of nerves, both boys insisted you needed to eat so you didn’t collapse during the dance. You decided to humor them, and once you started eating you realized you were famished, and you distantly realized it was probably because the only thing you’d had to eat that day was the snack Satoru had managed to get for you when he came to see you after you’d thrown a fit.

Before you knew it, you’d devoured a taiyaki with red bean filling, four takoyaki so hot you’d burned the roof of your mouth, and an onigiri with curry in the middle. After that, Suguru convinced you to take a break and get something to drink. “We really don’t want you getting sick,” he’d explained when you tried to argue. 

Just as you finished the tea that Satoru had gotten you, you noticed the lanterns being lit around the edges of the square, and your heart sank; it was almost time for you to perform a dance with your boys – a dance that you had never learned, at that – in front of the entire settlement, and you hadn’t so much as glimpsed any of your other friends.

“We should go,” Suguru said softly, taking your hand once again and leading you back towards the platform. Satoru quickly reached your other side, taking your other hand – you’d misplaced Takara’s cushion at some point, and though you were sure Gojo-sama would be less than pleased about that, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at that moment. You allowed your friends to lead you back to the platform without any sort of fuss, not having the energy to fight anything, even if you had wanted to fight them in the first place. When the three of you reached the platform steps, Satoru and Suguru released your hands, both of them turning to face you.

“Are you ready?” Suguru asked gently, tilting his head slightly. You knew he meant well and was just trying to check in on you, but the wording of his question felt a little silly; no, you weren't ready, and you never would be, but what choice did you have? You said none of that, though, giving a slight nod instead. 

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” you sighed, offering him your best smile in return, though you doubted it was very convincing. 

“You’re gonna want to put Takara down for this,” Satoru said, and you felt a small, sharp jolt of panic, that you realized afterwards wasn’t entirely your own; maybe your bond with Takara was going to take longer to get used to than you thought.

“Why?” you asked, a frown tugging at the corners of  your lips.

“There’s a lot of twirling and spinning. I don’t want her to fall, or to claw up your neck trying to hold on,” he explained, his expression nearly as soft as his snowy hair, and you felt your worry melt away nearly as quickly as it had hit you.

“Oh, okay. Uh…” you looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where to set your hatchling down; you were regretting misplacing the cushion now. “Where should I put her?”

“I’ll hold her for you, baby,” your mother said, and you turned to face her with wide eyes.

“Mom,” you sighed, breaking out into a grin before you could help it. You nearly threw yourself at her, and a small, shaky breath escaped you as she held you close. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling away. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise. And when this is all over, your father and I are going to take you home, okay?”

You nodded again, almost feeling as if you were going to cry again. You managed not to, though, and carefully lifted Takara from her place under the neck of your kimono. She chittered softly at you, but she quieted down quickly once she was in your mother’s arms.

Once you were sure Takara was taken care of, you turned back to your friends. “How does the dance go?” you asked, hoping your nerves didn’t bleed into your words too badly. You trusted Satoru when he told you the dance wasn’t hard, but you were still worried about making a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“It’s hard to explain,” Satoru replied, his head cocked slightly to the side; he looked like he was trying to think of a way to explain the dance to you, though unfortunately he seemed to be coming up dry.

“Satoru and I will go first,” Suguru said, stepping in while his friend seemed to struggle. “Just watch us for a bit, and one of us will bring you in when it’s a good time, okay?” His usual gentle smile softened his face as he spoke, and, just as it always did, it put you at ease.

“Okay,” you agreed, managing to offer a small smile back. 

Both boys nodded at you, then commanded their dragons to stay back as the two of them stepped into the space that had been cleared in front of the platform where fuel for a bonfire had been built up. Your friends stood next to each other on the side closest to you, and you watched as a few other people stepped out of the crowd to stand around the bonfire. You thought you recognized most of them as members of other well to do families from the settlement, though you didn’t know their names. They seemed to be about your age for the most part, a few of them maybe a year or two older, but it quickly became apparent that no adults would be involved in this dance. 

A hush settled over the crowd as Gojo-sama approached the pile of wood, a lit torch in his hand. He looked slowly around the square for a moment, expression unreadable, then said in a booming voice, “Now it is time for the new generation to honor those that have come before, and perform the traditional dance to welcome a metallic dragon.” He tossed the torch into the woodpile, the dry branches roaring to life almost instantly. The roar of the fire and the cheering of the crowd drowned out any other words the man might have spoken, so he simply gestured for the musicians to begin playing again before he stepped back onto the platform.

As the music began – a very different song than before, this one sounding old and promising and full of magic – Satoru and Suguru turned away from the fire to face each other, each of them offering the other a slight bow before they really began to dance. Their movements were elegant, nimble, and seemingly effortless, not a single breath out of place as they moved, spinning and winding and stepping away from each other before coming right back. You noticed quickly that it was really only a few movements repeated in about three different patterns, and for that you were thankful; at least once you got used to the movements things would go smoothly. Distantly, you realized that all the other dancers around the bonfire must have been dancing the same way, but you didn’t care about them, not when you couldn’t take your eyes off of your friends and the way they moved together as if they were born to do this dance together. Watching them dance was like watching Kenji and Niji fight; fluid, coordinated movements without needing to communicate, black and white in a natural push and pull that was nearly impossible to look away from.

It was unclear to you exactly how much time had passed since the dance had begun, your focus more on watching the boys and trying to get a sense of the dance you would soon be pulled into, but soon enough they split apart; Suguru turned to dance with one of the girls from the other families, and Satoru turned to you and held out his hand. Heart hammering in your chest, you were quick to take it, not wanting to cause a disruption in the flow of the dance. You stared up at Satoru with wide eyes then, the crackling of the fire louder now that you were up close with it.

Your best friend looked down at you with a smile, releasing your hand and taking a half step back. “You’ve got this,” he assured you, then offered you the same small bow he’d offered Suguru before. You managed to return it, then jumped into the dance itself. You’d never been the most graceful person, but you felt especially clumsy trying to do the dance with no practice. Though you knew it wouldn’t do your balance any favors, you kept looking down at your feet, trying to make sure you had all the steps right. A set of waraji sandals entered your view – wooden-soled just like yours, but with white leather straps rather than brown – and a familiar voice called your name.

“Don’t look down,” Satoru encouraged, and when you lifted your head, you saw he was still smiling at you. “Look at me. It’s just us right now, yeah? It’s just you and me. You can do this.” He spoke with such conviction that you couldn’t help but believe him, and you nodded, smiling back at him.

“I can do this,” you agreed. The steps came easier to you after that, and you kept your eyes locked on your best friend as you danced, spinning and winding around him just as Suguru had, though your moves were a bit less polished.

Just when you felt you were really getting into the rhythm of the music and finding your stride, Satoru spoke again. “We’re about to be finished,” he explained in a low voice, only for you to hear. “You’ll be dancing with Suguru next. When it’s time to switch, I’ll tell you to turn around, and he’ll be waiting for you.”

All you could give in response was a nod, feeling a bit more out of breath than your friend, who still hadn’t even broken a sweat, as far as you could tell. It was only a few moments later that you heard a slight shift in the music, and Satoru told you to turn around before doing so himself. You did as you were told, turning around to become Suguru’s partner.

The dark haired boy smiled at you when you were facing each other again, and you blinked in surprise when you saw his hair. It was pulled back from his face in a bun, like he usually wore it now that it was getting longer, but all the dancing and spinning had caused a small, slightly shorter section in the front to fall down in front of his eyes.

“Your hair looks nice like that,” you panted, not even thinking about the words before you said them aloud. Once you realized what you’d said, you felt your cheeks burn a bit more than they already were.

Suguru seemed a bit surprised by your words, but not upset, if his smile was anything to go by. “You think so?” he asked, as the two of you exchanged bows. “Maybe I’ll wear it like this on purpose now. It never wants to stay put, anyways.”

A small laugh tumbled from your lips at his words, but it was all you could manage before beginning to dance again. Now that you were more familiar with the steps and how they flowed together, you were able to loosen up a bit, and worry less about whether you were going to accidentally step on Suguru’s feet – something you did, in fact, wind up doing, but he waved off.

“I still have my toes,” he teased softly, and you chanced a quick look down to make sure he wasn’t lying about not being hurt. Sure enough, his feet were fine, his own sandals still held securely in place by their black leather straps. Once that little hiccup was out of the way, though, you felt much better. 

By the time you were passed back to Satoru, you were much more comfortable, smiling more easily despite how breathless you felt. You danced until you felt certain your legs were going to collapse beneath you, and until you began to feel a bit dizzy from how much spinning around you were doing. Just before you were going to have to step out of the dance, though, the music crescendoed before ending with a flourish, and you nearly wept with relief. The gathered crowd broke out into cheers and applause again, and at the same moment, your best friends both threw themselves at you to wrap you up in a hug. You laughed and hugged them back as best you could for a few long moments, only pulling away when you heard your mother call your name.

“It’s time to go home,” she told you gently. “It’s getting very late, and you need to rest.”

You nodded at her words, knowing she was right and longing for your own bed back at home, but you were reluctant to part from the boys; you’d spent every waking moment and then some with them for over a week, and you didn’t know how you were going to be able to sleep without them in the same room with you.

Sensing your hesitation, Satoru squeezed you tighter. “Go home,” he murmured. “We’ll see you soon. You’ll be attending lessons and training with us now, remember?”

“Get some sleep,” Suguru agreed, also holding you a bit closer. “I’m sure Satoru will drag me into town tomorrow to cause problems.”

“I’ll wait until after breakfast,” Satoru promised, and you all laughed softly. 

“Bye,” you whispered, finally releasing them from your hold. They whispered it back, waving as you walked back to your parents. You gladly accepted Takara back from your mother, smiling as she bumped her head against your cheek before draping herself around your neck once again. 

Your parents kept you close as they picked out a path through the crowd, somehow managing to get you out of the square without anyone trying to stop you to talk or to ask to see your dragon. Having Spark around to growl at people is nice, sometimes, you thought to yourself. Once you were away from the brightly lit city square and the heat brought by the bonfire and the crowd, you found yourself yawning and shivering as you walked, the faint breeze quickly chilling the sweat on your skin.

“Your bed is ready for you when we get home,” your father promised, and you nodded, thanking him softly and leaning against him slightly as you walked. It wasn’t too far to your house, thankfully, and your parents quickly ushered you inside. You stumbled a bit on your way to your bedroom, and you didn’t even dream of protesting as your mother followed you, being quick but careful as she helped you out of your kimono, folding the material and placing it on your dresser, then setting each of the accessories you wore on top of it: first the belt, then the bracelets, then the headpiece. She helped you out of your sandals, then placed them by the door. You weren’t sure why she was being so careful with everything, but you were too tired to ask. 

Giving you a moment to pull on something else to sleep in, your mother stepped into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a damp cloth. She knelt in front of you, her touch gentle as she wiped the remains of your makeup from your face, though you were fairly certain you had already sweat most of it off. Eventually she deemed you clean enough, and you yawned, rubbing your eyes; you couldn’t remember the last time you were so tired.

At some point while helping you undress, your mother had placed Takara on your pillow, and she had fallen asleep waiting for you. Gently, you lifted her from her spot, holding her in one arm as you crawled beneath your blankets for the night. You looked up at your parents as they walked to your bedside, and you smiled as they took turns leaning down to kiss you on the forehead and tell you goodnight. You mumbled back an almost unintelligible “goodnight,” sleep quickly overtaking you now that you were in comfortable clothes and in your own bed for the first time in so long. Tomorrow was the first day of your new life, but for now, you were glad to be home.

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[leoruby-draws]

Kid Villains, pt 2.

Decided to post more kiddy villains, bit of a sequel to this. First up is Kitten, Mothman's bratty daughter from the 2003 teen titan cartoon:

Modeled her costume after the Rosy Maple Moth, while there are species of moths with the name kitten on them I figured she would prefer a pink outfit.

Thought it'd be kinda cool for her to be a villain for the batkids, she's already evil so why not. I don't imagine her to be all that talented at the job tho she would still be very dangerous if you underestimate her. I think she would work particularly well against Steph, being that Mothman started as a villain for Barbara (Cass might be too high level for her tbh).

Here's some more doodles:

Here's my Scarecrow's sidekick oc, I should probably name her something like Rag Doll or Raggedy Scream maybe? The three boys are oc's modeled after the Terrible Trio, criminals who commit crimes wearing animal masks. Their identities change a lot over continuities, so these kids are probably aspiring to be the next incarnation of this group.

Here's another random oc, a sidekick for White Rabbit (Jaina Hudson). Thought it'd be funny if it was just a kid in a silly rabbit suit, like what the kid wore in that movie, A Christmas Story. I'm not sure on what his personality should be. Maybe someone genuinely nice, a cheerful, polite boy who likes to hand people bombs (unintentionally dangerous) or maybe someone pretending to be nice but is actually malicious. Whatever's funnier I suppose.

Here's some characters inspired by the Super Friends enemies, the Super Foes. You'd see some of them return for the Robins 2021 mini, except for Toy Boy. Giggles and Guffaw are newer, only appearing in the mini.

I messed with their designs a bit to make them more unique looking. Honeysuckle for example was shown with either red or brown hair but I gave her a sorta dark maroon, thought it contrasted well with her green outfit. Honeysuckle btw, is older than the rest, and is more of an enemy to Dick and Barbara, tho her teenage self has no problem attacking the younger sibs.

Also Giggles and Guffaw might look a little similar to a certain anime starring a group of sextuplets, just being a little funny there. I gave these kids some made up names, mostly taken from whatever writer created them. Couple of them worked out pretty well actually, like Bridwell (well, spring, stream) and Estrada (Road).

This next one is a character from the 2004 cartoon The Batman, which I never actually watched but I did see commercials of. His name is Prank ( Donnie ?), a protege of the Joker. He wasn't evil enough to stick it out, but I gotta say I just loved his costume (esp how the jacket resembles Robins coat a bit). Made up a last name for him, just a random one from searching up famous clowns.

Being Barbara's peer, he's also more of a antagonist for the older kids, decided he and Honeysuckle should friends. I kinda want to use them as a sorta contrast to Babs and Dick, that could be fun to do. Also look at baby Dick, I don't draw him enough at this age.

Speaking of Barbara, I've been going back and forth between having her start out as either 12 or 16. All the other kids start out really young, so it makes sense for Babs to do so as well. But I kinda like the thought of her starting out much older, makes her more unique among the batkids (in pre-crisis she became Batgirl in like her 20s btw, cool huh?)

More various rivals for the kids to fight, excluding my oc Pink Rabbit, all of them more antagonists for the kids themselves rather sidekicks of the villains that Batman fights.

Here's Jason and Steph torturing poor little Enigma, who would be considered the bad guy here?

Here's some more proteges, Holly probably exists in this world, she's a bit too old for all this nonsense tho. Kitten is also a Super Foes member and was in Robins 2021 as well, she's been shown to be a sidekick to the Cheetah and Catwoman. Maybe she's just likes to attach herself to any cat-themed villain.

Crazy Quilt is more of an enemy to Robin than Batman, plus he has his own legacy in Crazy Quilt II, so obviously I had to include them. I wonder what name should I give the younger one, Duvet? Silly Blankie? idk

Lastly here's Earth 3(?) Jason Todd as Talon II paying a visit to the Training Wheels universe, seems like hes a bit of a crybaby. I don't think we've seen a earth 3 variant of Jason, so I'm just making up my own version of him. Wonder why he seems so nervous...

Anyways!! That was a lot, hope you liked all that!

[the--firevenus]

"I have always been told through legends of old"

-

my magister ref sheet <333 a bit of rambles under readmore

truth to be told there isn't much i change except simplified the clothes and add my lil hc spin design, I like to think merlin had marks all over him like an engraving magic tattoo (kinda)

i had a habit of just... fluffing the hair.... i love to think he woke up and never want to touch his hair, permanent bed hair despite hammie effort in wanting to comb it ("magister please take consider of your appearance more!")

his alias name has little to do with canonical merlin mythos and more so to just me picking it cuz i originally want to name him helios, like the god of sun but alas.... i do think its a bit poetic to it cuz he so space theme in my head

originally i want to also put more design sketches especially on his markings! but that maybe for another day, i imagine merlin had it all over his body and not many had seen it cuz guy cover up from head to toe LMAO

lastly, since the game default face to masc merlin is just... resting bitch face, i upped that a bit and make him more expressive! stranger might never notice it but his travels companion probably would, fun teasing victim tbh

[dreamsy990]

rough sketches for designs of all the pt for the wof au! (also more akechi and better joker here)

thoughts + closeups under the cut

i tried to give proper justification for all the pt to have their codenames here which for a handful of them meant their names are just. shortened versions of something else. so crow is short for crow poison. aka false garlic. its a type of flower :3. i mean theororetically crow would be a valid name but hes a rainwing here and it didnt seem like a very fitting name with that in mind? but theres a couple rainwings named after flowers i think. hes a rainwing for obvious reasons i think. id like to think hed have a very light color palette that shifts to this when he gives up trying to hide who he is. youuu can see that lighter palette in the art i linked earlier.

fox! which is short for snowfox. yes i know snowfox is a real canon name but yknow what else is canon? icewings have a big list of names they go down. so his name is snowfox. i dont have anything else to say here. like ofc hes an icewing hes YUSUKE. id like to think he left the ice kingdom to go to jade mountain (bc is it a wof au without jade mountain) to "broaden his horizons as an artist". which would be how he meets the other guys

skull! is it his real name? hes not telling! i am the least happy with his design tbh.

ORACLE!! her real name is beetle but she likes to go by oracle instead. i struggled a bit on what tribe to make her actually. originally i wanted her to be either part or fully rainwing? because i thought her using her camoflauge to hide from people in crowded places could be fun. but eventually i decided i not to do that. i dont think theres any hybrids in this cast actually? might actually change my mind on that to make noir half leafwing but shh. anyways i think a bug is fitting for her. so she gets to be a hivewing. no abilities for her shes just a little guy

JOKER!! i think it would be fun if joker IS his real name but people think its an alias. his design was easy as shit. ofc hes a nightwing ofc hes got big red stars on his wings hes JOKER. not pictured is morgana also! mona is jokers """pet""" scavenger who speaks dragon. congrats mona you finally get to be human! too bad its in the dragon au. anyways might post a morgana drawing whenever i clean up his design

violet! (named after the violet copper butterfly). her sisters name and the name she uses for a while is rose (named after the common rose butterfly). i ALSO kinda considered her being a rainwing (literally changing herself to look more like her sister) but decided silkwing was a better choice,,,,, im really happy with her design ok

PANTHER!! that is her actual name btw. MY FIRST THOUGHT FOR THIS AU WAS SKYWING ANN I WOULD KILL MYSELF IF SHE WAS ANYTHING ELSE,,,, ik skywings cant have blue eyes unless theyre firescales or sky but shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i wanted to,,,,,, canon is what i want it to be.

queen is short for queenfish! she was a bit of an afterthought sorry </3. but shes a seawing! good for her <3

AND NOIIIRRRR!! i wanted her to be a mudwing as soon as i thought about it for more than a second. design wise i dont have much to say but i think storywise it might be cool if she was an only child and her father (in an incrdible rare move for a mudwing) was actually a present figure in her life. leading her to be kinda isolated from her peers and giving her a big reason to be very attached to him. idk its just thoughts rn. i dont have a clear story in mind yet. anyways those are my dragon thieves i hope you liked them

[polisena-art]

I've always wanted to ask since it's never definite and changes based on adaption, but what's your preference for Panchito's last name? Pistoles? Romero Miguel Francisco Quintero Gonzalez III? No last name at all? Some combination like Pistoles being a stage name? If he lived with José in Rio long enough could he eventually adopt Carioca? It seems to differ for everyone which is one of the cool fandom things

HI! SO- I can safely say I don't consider Panchito's surname to be "Pistoles". To me, that's his stage name and an American stage name at that!! Getting a little meta for a bit here, the name "Pistoles" was chosen for the character simply because it was easier for the American audience to pronounce it with an "e" instead of the original "a" in the spanish word for "pistols". So, going back in universe, imagine that in the 1940s when the Three Caballeros commissioned a small series of posters with the little money they had, they all came with a typo in Panchito's name because of the language barrier/miscommunication with the print shop. But in the end Panchito kinda digged that XDDD "NO, LEAVE IT IN!!! It makes it new and exciting, guys!!!" Paco might say, upbeat and always seeing the bright side of every situation. I like to imagine that his nickname in his hometown and stage name in México was "Panchito Pistolas" and just "Panchito" for family and friends. As for his actual surname I really dig the House of Mouse version, (Panchito Romero Miguel Junípero Francisco Quintero González Tercero) even if it means he would be Francisco twice XD, tbh not the weirdest naming decision to happen in latin america by far...

AS FOR JOSÉ!!! Well, first, I don't think that either one of them would adopt any of each others' surnames (but this is my own bias because I kinda hate the whole changing names for marriage and the burocracy it entails-) Also I'm in the fence whether to consider "Carioca" to be José's real surname or not. This is very much me overanalyzing the character but we are in the "overanalyzing stupid characters website" so whatever- The thing with José is that, here in Brazil, "Zé Carioca" reads simply as a very descriptive nickname meaning "guy from Rio". Reason why I can totally see it being just a nickname that later got turned into a stage name for him. So, it also doesn't make sense to me for Panchito to have it in his name, that Bitch (affectionate) isn't carioca! But anyways, just to clarify, can "Carioca" be a surname? Yes, absolutely!! It is, in fact, a surname that exists in Brazil although it's not a very popular one. But when you consider the character's history and also Zé's cousins (the joke with them being that each has a regional name after "Zé" indicating where they are from), the idea you get is that Carioca is not a family name but a label. The comics have also shown us some of Zé's relatives that could indicate what other alternative surnames he may have but, mind you, none of this means that Zé would have inherited these particular surnames! So we're still in headcanon valley here. First, there are Zé's two grandads: Zé Paiva (or Zeca Paiva) and Josué Carioca. We don't know which one is from mother's side or father's side tho. And later there are more relatives, including two grandmas, one from the Dutch comics, Oma Carioca (aka vovó Carioca), and the other from a recent Culturama release, Isaura Araripe. Once again we don't know which one represents the mother's side and which represents the father's side. In the Culturama special story tho, José's family, including himself, identify as "Araripe" (a real surname but also a play on the word "arara" meaning "macaw" in portuguese).

So, we coooould make Zé Carioca's registry name be any mix of these like "José Araripe Carioca" or "José Paiva Araripe" OR "José Carioca Araripe" OR "José Paiva Carioca" OOOOR if you're a fan of long names "José Carioca Araripe Paiva". The mother's family name comes first in Brazil but since we don't know which one that would be, you can pick and choose to your heart's content. I said all that BUT I'm also a big fan of the "descriptive" nature of "José Carioca" as a name for the character, because it almost grants him a kind of anonimity. There are millions of Zés in Brazil and millions of cariocas (in relation to place of birth) too. Which makes him LITERALLY JUST A GUY!!! Just a little guy commiting scams all around and nobody fucking knows his real name-- A REAL POWER MOVE in my opinion. That said, I would also find it very funny if he had the most WIDELY USED Brazilian surname and ONLY THAT, making him "José Silva" or "José da Silva", so he could maintain that "generic guy" energy in his registry name as well.

[hathay]

second year halloween hc’s pt2.

(i now realize in the splitting of the second years i left riddle by his lonesome with octavinelle, so to him i formally apologize.)

warnings: horror movies are mentioned, ghosts too. also i daurnt proof read😍 (may ooc riddle? i tried on him i am sorry if it sucks</3)

included: floyd, jade, riddle, & azul!

⥳floyd⥴

- he just really, really enjoys spooking people.

- like, a chance to dress up all scary?? to see the lovely faces of people lighting up with utter fear? SIGN HIM UP.

- he’s trying to scare anyone and everyone, let’s not mention how he gets all moody when someone isn’t scared by him and just giggling at his antics instead.

- he hates decorating for halloween it’s way too much effort but lemme tell you, pumpkin carving or horror movie watching? he’s all for it.

- makes the worst jack-o-lantern you’ve ever seen. like seriously what is that? he would quite literally just smile and be like “i love it😄”. he’d give it a name and all.

- he adores horror movies on halloween because he likes giggling when people are super scared, likes to teasing people about it too. (the type to scream in the middle of an intensely quiet scene.)

- steals candy. steals so much candy. actually, forget stealing, he just scares people into handing over candy to him and has NO remorse for it, they should’ve just been tougher, barely even put up a fight!

- he might even consider changing costumes halfway through the night so he can re-scare people or keep himself from getting bored.

⥴jade⥳

- he loves halloween are you kidding me.

- he loves costumes he seriously does, dressing up is just so exciting for him. he likes to look mysterious and all fancy.

- we all know halloween in the sea is much different so he’s still learning more about land halloween and boy is he INTERESTED. especially learning about all the cultures traditions, he’s captivated!

- also quite enjoys scaring people, he’ll wear a scary costume but go around acting like a living angels all night until he gets to chance to absolutely horrify people. then just does his lil soft smirk and struts away (he totally struts.)

- he also loves telling scary stories in the calmest most monotone voice while describing the most traumatizing scary thing ever. (it’s more chilling this way i’m telling you.)

- he would scare people in the most methodical way physically possible and he would act so shocked and innocent as his plan unraveled.

- the opposite of floyd in the pumpkin carving area, his pumpkin would be so gorgeous. like how did this man manage to make an art piece out of a PUMPKIN??

- he’s not a big candy fan tbh, man is floyd or someone else gonna luck out if he decides he’s feeling sweet enough to hand it all over.

♔riddle♔

- i beg of someone show him he can actually time to relax and enjoy himself on halloween.

- if he were to be somehow persuaded to go trick-or-treating i do think he would rather enjoy himself. to give himself a chance to be a bit of a kid, to let loose yk. it would be fun for him to experience something exciting that he hasn’t before.

- doesn’t want candy, he doesn’t like junk food, but mayhaps if he likes someone enough he wouldn’t be opposed to getting candy and giving it all to said person. as long as the queens rules permit it though.

- declines to watch horror movies. he won’t do it, maybe something tamer like halloween town? even then he’s judging EVERYONE in it.

- his costumes are well thought out, they are absolutely not something stupid or spur of the moment like certain people. (*cough cough ace*)

- BUT he lowkey likes being a little scary on halloween, it’s the intimidation factor that he enjoys.

- he won’t carve pumpkins either, way too messy for his tastes, maybe if the queen allows it, he’ll partake in painting or drawing on the front of pumpkins!

✯azul✯

- he’s so excited. so excited. sure sure he may seem like he’s only in it for a profit (he’s THRILLED about said profit don’t get me wrong) but he loves halloween itself too.

- he does enjoy halloween profit but he also just enjoys halloween decorates, he likes all the cute halloween stuff and how he can make it all however he pleases. like little sugar cubes shaped like pumpkins or ghosts? he’ll never tell but he thinks they’re so cute.

- idc what he says he’s afraid of ghosts. like how ghosts are quite prevalent in the coral sea, as a kid he would hide under his covers and sob because he was fearful of them. (it happened i was totally there)

- he would watch halloween movies but would act so hard to seem uninterested or that in that situation he’d be a-okay.

- he convinces people he only likes to capitalize off halloween but he lowkey loves matching costumes and thinks they’re cute. if someone he likes asked him to match i stg he’d be unable to speak. (he turns into mush fr)

- i think he would really enjoy dressing up, he’s an extravagant man yk! if he gets to wear something that makes him feel on top of the world he’s gonna do it.

[visualtaehyun]

Pronoun changes, my beloved!

Apologies in advance for how chaotic and lengthy this will be but this is my jam lmao For ease of understanding, I'll color-code all words referring to Mork and Day like this!

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

Last episode, Mork called himself พี่ /phi/ once so I'd been waiting that entire episode for either of them to initiate a switch in pronouns!!

เดย์ พี่เอง /Day, phi ehng/

It just makes sense tbh, considering all of Day's friends defaulted to calling Mork พี่ /phi/ and Porjai also just calls herself พี่ /phi/ while calling Day น้อง /nong/, น้องเดย์ /nong Day/ or just เดย์ /Day/.

Real quick- พี่ /phi/ = lit. older sibling; respectful yet familiar form of address for someone older (2nd or 3rd person pronoun); can be used to refer to oneself in reference to someone younger (1st person pronoun) น้อง /nong/ = lit. younger sibling; mostly used to refer to someone younger (2nd or 3rd person pronoun) but can be used to refer to oneself in reference to someone older (1st person pronoun)

So, episode 5!

Day accidentally calls Mork พี่ /phi/ and another boundary's crossed 👀 Of course our flustered Day tries to backpaddle immediately to Mork's delight (Day is so teasable, I completely understand Mork haha):

อะไรของคุณ /a rai kaawng khun/

ไอ้น้องเดย์ /ai nong Day/ -> Nong Day? Sweet, affectionate. Ai nong Day? Teasing, trying to annoy Day 😂 พี่ยืมเสื้อตัวนึงนะ /phi yeuum seuua dtuua neung na/ -> The tone of his voice 🫠 This is when Mork starts calling himself พี่ /phi/!

Mork has officially abandoned the polite formal คุณ /khun/ that both him and Day previously used to call each other and he now mostly calls him by his name, เดย์ /Day/, but sometimes he doesn't~

เราเองอ่ะ ก็โพสต์อะไรบ้างดิ /rao ehng a, gaaw post a rai baang di/

เรา /rao/ as a 2nd person pronoun is used by older people for calling someone younger or in general by someone more senior for calling juniors (though I've also heard it between age mates or even by younger people when scolding someone older they're close to lol it sounds a bit condescending or patronizing though). It's not formal or polite, it has a degree of familiarity though!

Quick intermission for the photo caption (though the subs provide a very good alternative pun!)

ข้าวเช้าแบบปัง ปัง /khaao chaao baeb bpang bpang/

ปัง /bpang/ = bread, hence the pun, but it's also an onomatopoeic expression for a loud noise (like Bang!) and, in the same vein, slang for 'popular'. I guess it's comparable to saying sth. or sb. is 'the bomb' in English or like- A bangin' breakfast lol You'd obviously lose the bread pun though.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming!

Mork calls him น้องเดย์ /nong Day/ and himself พี่หมอก /phi Mork/ but he also phrases his question with a คับ /khap/ at the end (that's a polite male ending particle) - it's halfway between sweet and teasing but Day's reaction tells us that he's accepting it at face value. :)

Place your bets now as to how everyone will react once they hear the changed speaking habits of these two lmao Personally, I wanna see Night's reaction the most

Gee is up first!

Last night, Day did still call him คุณ /khun/ HMMM 😏 (Gee's also referencing the love song Mork sang for Day in ep. 4)

I wanna highlight the little banter about the hotpot restaurant here too because it's something I hear irl a bunch but rarely in (BL) series!!

Day: มึงดูตากูด้วยค่ะ /mueng duu dtaa guu duay kha/ Gee: มึงก็ให้พี่มึงป้อนซิคะ /mueng gaaw hai phi mueng bpaawn si kha/

These two (as well as most of Day's friends) use กู/มึง /guu mueng/ with each other which- nothing new there, close friends often use these rude pronouns with each other BUT what's interesting to me is the particle they both use at the end: ค่ะ/คะ /kha/! They're polite feminine ending particles so usually used by women, when speaking politely. But in this case, they're both using them to sass each other! :D

I've exhausted my time for this evening so the rest of the episode will have to wait until later, sadly. And this post only covers part 1/4 hahaaahh... 🥴

[dark-overlord-of-rainbows]

Drawn Aug 26 2024 If this weren't so long I'd add their personalities here but since it is and I ended up writing it down here anyway I'll just let you read it on the old art. Put off posting this one for a while Since I've only gotten the chance to figure out what they look like once and I did not put any thought into the colours their designs were.. pretty bad tbh. The very first of mine is always gonna have it's issues and I've got other bad first drafts that I haven't posted... but I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, it was pretty egregious. I did want to work on my outfit design as well though, so I put a bit more thought into the details, and used reference for the clothes again* (I had to put belts on my arm to figure out how the wrinkles on Suchai's shirt would work lol) *used to do this more when learning how to draw clothes at first, but I haven't done it in a while and there's a lot of details I didn't really understand still Bunch of other doodles and such too Anyway, design/character notes:

I've mentioned before but Suchai is 4'9"/145cm, and 5'0"/152cm with heels. Pitchaya is 5'5"//165cm

The little bird is back! I've only drawn them once and they still need a name but they're a strawberry finch (or red avadavat, red munia) that can shapeshift. Usually taking the form of clothes/tools when not just a bird I didn't like the old green and a lot of characters I have use similar palettes anyway so I should try to move away from those... but I wasn't gonna change their hair or Pitchaya's eyes so I moved to red/blue/yellow ig. Kitty ended up getting a lot of the yellow that only accents these two, I don't exactly know what another character- Kristian will get yet (I have some ideas though) I haven't said outright 'til now but Pitchaya is a trans boy. His binder has always been visible in his design. Suchai on the otherhand is cis, however: 1. he's sometimes assumed to also be trans and/or gets mistaken as way younger than he is and/or misgendered too 2. honestly both the brothers kinda just. forget he's cis sometimes. Sign of a good ally..? Also a detail from the beginning but Pitchaya's eyes are two colours, although it kinda looks like it could be just shadow. I tried pulling in the dark blue/black instead of using the ink colour to try to make it more obvious but of course it didn't change anything I don't know why I thought it would lol. I've just been drawing it the same way I did before Since Suchai's pants became black I had to change the colour of his gloves and shoes, but he has an alt outfit I haven't drawn of the blacks and browns swapped. Similar situation with his heels turning red here, and will get black heels too. Pitchaya would have a lot more outfits than Suchai. Partially personality reasons, but also it's because it's harder/more expensive getting good quality clothes in Suchai's size (but you know what? at least it exists) Speaking of pants, Suchai's dress pants are scuffed at the knees because he's clumsy as hell. I considered making his horns and mask scuffed as well since he faceplants a lot, but I didn't end up doing it here. Pitchaya's got skinny jeans now, it makes his shoulders and hair look bigger & draw a bit more attention up there I think, though I might need to edit the colours of his pants and shoes further at some point Dress shoes fit with Suchai's new outfit and the vibe I was going for with him but also I needed a pair of shoes for him when he's not in those heels. In universe he needed non-heels because he always yells at Pitchaya for not taking care of his health and he will not be a damn hypocrite in front of that kid! Pitchaya hates sleeves, he will rip them off any clothes or refuse to wear things with sleeves... which is all fine 'til the temperatures hit the negatives* Suchai wears exclusively long sleeves, and in general usually just covers up. He's technically doing better in the summer than Pitchaya in winter, but the man is dramatic. *in celsius I mean, under 32f for the americans…. I'm from Canada though, so I am well acquainted with what would be negatives in farenheit too lmao. I don't know and don't care what the actual extremes are for these characters' weather

[sixtysixproblems]

disaster ramble about my headcanons for how the batch got their names & etc*

*this is related to a fic of mine (fluorescent mistakes/mistakesverse), tho having read it is 100% unnecessary to understand the post, and I'll likely use some of these for other fics as well.

the only HCs you (sort of) "need" to know is cody, fox, and wolffe are "triplets", and i say fuck canon and Rex is 3 years (1.5 years) younger than CC batch. bits in italics/blue are less applicable outside of the fic itself, but still make sense without the context or i give the context.

Cody (Kote) - got the name Kote pretty young, changed it to Cody tho around 16-17ish?

>Jango gave it to him, when he was 10ish..? Possibly even a little younger. Jango intended as more of a nickname for just him to use, but obv it didn’t stay that way. Was very proud of "earning it" for a long time. >Changed it to Cody later in a not-so-subtle rebellion against Jango/the Kaminoans, and partially in an attempt to choose something for himself/have a part of his identity outside of his skill as a commander. >Still uses Kote on very rare occasions with the batch and other old friends from kamino ONLY (only exceptions to use it more being Fox who gets to call him Kot'ika, Rex who get a free pass for anything/everything) >his name backstory is probably most plot relevant cause his arc deals a LOT with identity issues & such. Might even have a flashback to him snapping at Jango that "it's cody now" > The final nail in the hammer for changing it was probably Ponds getting reconditioned**, and him partially blaming Jango for it :(

Fox - before rex was around (so pre 13)

>Got called a “fox” due to him being a sneaky clever bastard, but it wasn’t a nickname until he made it one >chose it not long after cody,  probably? >this was a pretty big deal since it wasn't a) widely used by trainers, mostly other vode, and b) he made it clear it was his name. not a nickname, not a title, his name, as opposed to his designation number >I'm considering backstory that him & colt worked together to come up with the idea to bulshit the kaminoans with "it's actually more tactically useful in battle to have recognizable nicknames for the clones", which is true, but also to limit consequences for getting caught using names. >in addition to joint guilt in the creation of Ponds's name, he's also responsible for Thorn's name by repeatedly calling him a "prick" and "thorn in my ass" on kamino (tho that's it's own post lmao).

Wolffe - before rex was around (so pre 13)

>inspired by fox, but also spells it that way to spite fox (cody gave him the idea for it lol) >cody was annoyed that wolffe clearly chose it to match fox (bitey twins, lol) since they're supposed to be triplets. wolffe enjoys pissing him off but didn't want him to feel actually left out...so cody got to help with the god awful spelling. >confused some people into thinking it was pronounced "wolf-y". this is brought to you by my friend reading fluorescent before any other piece of star wars media and assuming that. >i love the potential meaning u can take from it of him being family/"pack" oriented and how that translates over to him being very loyal, protective, etc. Aka on the surface level he's this scary grumpy guy, but deep down is just a bit of a softie/just wants to keep his family safe. >but on a less serious note, i also love all the jokes i can make cough cough omegaverse

Rex - age 10-11ish

>encouraged to pick a name out by cody to help cope with being newly reconditioned/placed with the CCs as i imagine there’d be some identity issues after that :(  >perhaps nicknamed king or little prince or smth and that's where he got the rex idea. tho tbh i have no idea >abridged fluorescent lore is that he was a particularly talented/borderline defective CT, tho albiet from a "troublesome" batch. consequently he was reconditioned pretty heavily around 9-10ish, and Jango came up with the great (sarcasm) idea to use him sort of as a "test" of what CTs were actually capable of, and had him mixed into CC training. >this is how he met the batch, after not remembering his own/many details of his life pre-recon. they were supposed to train him once or twice, but predictably adopted him.

Bly - after rex arrived (and rex got his name) but not long after, so 13?

>litterally just chose a name they liked the sound of and thought fit them like a sane person. literally the only one to pick a normal name a normal way out of the whole batch. we stan >i like the hc being short for smth (like butterfly, etc) but i dont think it works for fluorescent :/ maybe in another fic. >possible them & rex worked together to find names that fit them bc i think that'd be sweet. i dont focus on their relationship much at all so maybe a little bonding, albiet in backstory only, is in order. >she's very likely gonna be trans (mtf) in fluorescent (tho it wasn't always the plan + she is not out yet (to herself or others) in the fic itself) so I'm considering implying Bly is traditionally a female/gender-neutral name in whatever star wars culture it's "from" (aka i make shit up) >considering a joke where someone asks her if she's picking a new one after she comes out and she's like "absolutely not, it was so hard the first time i refuse to do it again".

Ponds - last to get one, 14-15ish?

>went by “four” or 54 before he got his name. >Bly sometimes jokingly called him “squared”/ ”square”/ ”cubed”/etc when they were tweens cause of the two fours in his designation number + 64 is a perfect square in math. the vode assumed he'd pick one or one would eventually catch on permanently. >...and then he shoved three separate trainers in a pond, on three separate trips no less, during off-planet training (and since I'm guessing off-planet training was very rare, wtf buddy) >and the triplets went “you know what would be funny” and just. Picked it for him, and wouldn't stop calling him that, and eventually it caught on. And there was nothing he could do about it <3 >**yes, he was reconditioned at 16-17ish. Yay....Not much of a spoiler hopefully? this may somehow be related to why he was the last to "choose" (read: accept defeat) a name, despite being a outspoknen/protective ori'vod nightmare for the Kaminoans. >dw it's not too angsty. they didn't fuck with his memories much, and were trying to change his behavior to be "less inclined to rebelliousness/contempt for authority". And if you've read his arc in fluorescent, you know they failed spectacularly at making him less likely to break the rules. >tbh I think its fitting for (how I write) his character that his name was chosen by his siblings. i think he was and is "salty" about it, but not-so-secretely touched and/or proud about it.

this whole thing was very ramble-y and i'll be surprised if more than 2 people read it, lmao, but i couldn't stop myself. a lot of this is sort of "background" and may not be actually referenced in the fic itself...but who knows.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

https://www.tumblr.com/fatum679/757325536951468032/queen-helaena-targaryen-first-of-her-name?source=share

What do you think?

I'm going to be real for a second here.

People obviously can stan whoever they want and ship whoever they want, but considering what we've seen of Aemond so far this season, there's really no reason that anyone who likes Helaena should be excited or optimistic about that scene with Aemond that was shown in the previews (and which now has leaked in entirety). I don't think anyone wants to see Helaena hurt, that's pretty absurd. Clearly Aemond has changed as a person and is no longer that little boy who told Aegon that Helaena would be queen one day, nor, for that matter, is Aegon the same person who once called Helaena an idiot. But this entire season we have seen Aemond set aside his feelings in order to achieve his goals, so the idea that Helaena will be an exception because he just loves her so much is a bit of a stretch when before this episode Helaena has said exactly 1 (one) line to Aemond over the course of the whole show. Aemond's immediate reaction to Helaena's child being murdered in a hit that was meant for him was to tell the prostitute he's visiting how proud he was that Daemon targeted him. I think some fans need to come to terms with the fact that the writers if this show have gone off in a different direction with Aemond and this Aemond is one who will sacrifice Helaena, who will hurt her and even see her killed if that's what it takes. If you don't like what the writers have done with your favorite character, well, you're in good company there right along with Alicent fans and Aegon fans and Rhaenyra fans and Daemon fans depending on the episode.

There's also something else going on here where people speculate about what might happen and others accuse them of wanting this to happen or having fantasies about this happening, and I find that quite weird tbh. People speculate based on what they've seen in the season so far and what they think might happen. Some speculations are wishful thinking, others are overly cynical. People can simply disagree with a speculation and move right along rather than trying to morality police the people making the speculations (which in this case turned out to be completely true) and cast them as weirdos for taking a preview scene and interpreting it in a way that's consistent with what we've seen on screen thus far.

[starstriix]

Big post explaining every little detail of the ROTI pony designs because I put thought into it okay

*You can find the pony designs here and here!!

Starting off with the Mutant Maggots:

Cameron! I decided to make him a unicorn since they tend to be more academic and yeah that’s mainly it lmao. I can imagine him not being allowed to properly use his magic which makes him weaker since he isn’t trained enough in that aspect. His cutie mark is a magnifying glass to represent his curious and analytical nature, and the glass part looks like a bubble because he’s a bubble boy!! Magnifying glasses are also close in shape to bubble wands. Idk i thought that was a neat detail that combined two aspects of his character into one.

For Zoey, I just really felt like she’d be a pegasus. It makes her commando zoey side work really well, too. Her cutie mark was quite difficult to think of, but I view her as kind and emotional so it’s a heart to represent that (and she values her romantic relationships a lot). It’s also red and blue to kinda represent her and mike tbh since a LOT of her character was related to mike anyways, with a stitch pattern since she does sewing and it tied the design together.

Jo is a pegasus for obvious reasons. I’ve seen takes on her just being a really strong earth pony but one of her biggest strengths is actually her speed (if anything, I think eva would be a really strong earth pony). Since she does track and field, I’d consider that to be equivalent to flying in the mlp world. Also she’s basically a twisted version of rainbow dash like cmon. Since I’m a big jo fan (if you didn’t know already) I put a lot of thought into her cutie mark. It’s a gold medal to represent her competitive drive, with a spiky trail to allude to her speed and aggression. The medal itself is cracked which can mean 1) Her harmful “take-no-prisoners” methods to reach her goals and 2) Her insecurities that seep through sometimes.

With Mike, I honestly just thought an earth pony would fit him best. I don’t know how to put the reason into words. I’ve already answered why I made him a blank flank before (I use the #revenge is magic tag on the posts where i talk about this au). Originally it was because i couldn’t find anything for mike himself and I didn’t want it to relate to his disorder, but now it has proper backstory reasons since it made sense the more I thought about it!

I made Anne Maria a unicorn since she’s pretty beauty oriented and I can imagine her using magic to carry her spray bottle around. With magic, she can stay lazy lmao. I kinda wish I went for a different approach with her cutie mark to show her flashiness and “class”, but the spray bottle seemed pretty specific to her anyways. And I just liked how I drew the cutie mark.

Brick, the athletic earth pony of the cast!! I consider him pretty built and physical strength-focused, so I thought an earth pony would fit really well with him. Plus Jo can tease him for not being able to fly and catch up with her. His cutie mark has a neat little detail: It’s a star symbol with army colours to represent him being a cadet (obviously), with a ribbon that looks decorative but actually alludes to his love of fashion. I actually designed this cutie mark a while ago, I just changed it up a tiny bit.

And now for the Toxic Rats:

Lightning’s design is super straight forward. He’s a pegasus since he’s a super jock and his name also happens to follow the pegasus naming conventions (being named after sky related things). I can’t NOT make him a pegasus. His cutie mark is pretty simple too: It’s a football with a lightning bolt trail since he’s a star football player and he has a lightning motif.

Scott is an earth pony because he literally grew up on a dirt farm. How can I not make him an earth pony?? His cutie mark is one of my favourite concepts tbh (thanks @brookiidookiii ) because it’s deceptive in itself. Because it’s a pitchfork, he plays it off as him having a talent for farming, but it really hints to his devious and scheming nature. Since pitchforks are usually symbolic of the devil and yeah. I might redesign the pitchfork a bit idk but I still really like the idea itself

I’ve already explained why I made Sam a pegasus in the design posts, plus a friend said he’d have the wing equivalent of his gamer thumb and i thought that’d be really funny. His cutie mark is super straight forward as well, it’s just a video game controller because…he’s a gamer!! Wow!!

Dawn is so unicorn to me, she has a connection with nature and literal powers in canon. And she also follows unicorn naming conventions!! (Being related to astronomy such as twilight, sunset, starlight, luna etc). Her cutie mark is an eye to represent her ability to see people’s auras, with a crescent moon inside because she’s spiritual and a moonchild and all that. With some sparkles for good measure.

B!!! He’s inspired by that scrapped inventor twilight concept. I thought an earth pony inventor would be really fun since he wouldn’t have magic to make things easier for himself, but he’s super smart and finds ways around that. That’s what engineering is, really (lmao). His cutie mark is also straight forward: a wrench and a cog to represent his engineering abilities, as well as his cognitive thinking and smarts!

Dakota is a unicorn since they’re usually represented to be a high class and she’s a literal rich celebrity! Also tall unicorns yay! I’ve stated this before but her cutie mark was originally meant to be a camera but I just really didn’t like how it looked on her. I made it a star because well, she IS a star, with an added lipstick mark because that’s so her.

Staciiii, staci could’ve also fit as a unicorn in my mind but idk I made her an earth pony since she felt like one. I had a hard time designing her cutie mark in paticular, I considered it making it sorta tree-like as a reference to her family tree, or I could’ve made it about lying since she does that a lot. Except she’s not that great at lying but she DOES speak a lot, so I made a speech bubble her cutie mark! The bumpy cloud pattern thing is a leftover from when i tried to make it more treelike (and i guess it does look like a stylized tree) or you can interpret it as her lies clouding her words idk.

Extra note:

The cast is super balanced in species!! There are two unicorns, two pegasi and two earth ponies on each team (If I don’t count staci since she was just made to be a first boot) and I thought that was a fair way to split the teams in universe. For things like the rock climbing challenge, the use of wings or magic would obviously not be permitted.