#but honestly I can’t even remember this stuff happening in the books

[harrywavycurly]

Worst Mob Boss Ever: Book Club

Part 1: Here

A/N: I wasn’t planning on a part 2 but here we are because I got hit with inspiration, so enjoy✨

CW: Language, mentions of Harry’s “job”, mentions of past violent acts (broken nose), multiple “threats” of violence towards one person.

Tag List: @mema10 @angeldavis777 @outofthisworl-d @howling-wolf97 @umadirectioner @fangirl509east

Summary: Harry joins you for book club and it doesn’t go the way he imagined it would ✨

“They aren’t going to let you in dressed like that.” You warn the tall green eyed man who is standing next to you holding your slippers outside the parked car that’s currently in a driveway of a house he’s never been to before. Harry quirks a brow as he looks down at his suit, not sure why his attire would keep him from being able to enjoy an evening discussing a subpar romance novel. You shake your head and give Mitch a glare as you grab your backpack off the floor of your car. “You better bring it back with a full tank or I’m kicking your ass.” Your brother just rolls his eyes as he watches you sling a strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Just call me when it’s done.” You just nod and go to close the door. “And uh tell Sydney I said-” You close the door on him before he can finish his sentence making him laugh as you shoot him the bird before turning and facing the house.

“May I ask what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ignore Harry as you make your way up the path that leads to the front door of your bestfriend’s house. “Do they have an issue with Gucci or something?” He asks as he follows closely behind you while Mitch begins to back out of the driveway so he can go run the errands he needed to borrow your car for.

“I told you this is a cozy book club meaning you can’t just show up in a suit and honestly no one gives a shit if it’s Gucci or not.” You explain to him as you take the pair of slippers out of his hands that you made him hold for you while you got the rest of your stuff from the car.

“If I take the jacket off and roll up the sleeves it can give cozy vibes.” He offers making you roll your eyes because both of you know that nothing will make his suit look cozy.

“Just don’t embarrass me this-” Harry’s attention moves from you to the front door of the house as it swings open revealing someone he hasn’t seen in months, dressed in a matching pink and white stripped pajama set and white slippers.

“What the actual fuck is Harry Styles doing on my front porch?” You look at Morgan and then over your shoulder to Harry who looks more amused than annoyed or even shocked at her question.

“Good to see you too Morgan.” He greets your bestfriend with a smile making her cross her arms over her chest as she glares at him.

“I must have died and gone to hell because there is no way this is actually happening.” You raise an eyebrow at her as you try to ever remember her ever mentioning knowing Harry but you come up empty as the two of them just stare at one another.

“Uh how do you know him?” You ask making Morgan finally acknowledge you and you could laugh at how her face changes from a scowl to a soft smile as soon as her eyes meet your, but then she lets out an annoyed huff as she looks away from you so she can go back to glaring at the man behind you.

“That’s my cousin’s old boss. I met him at a holiday party a year or so ago.” Harry can’t help but feel his jaw clench as she motions at him with one of her red acrylic nails, not liking the tone she’s using at all. “He’s an asshole and-”

“I’m an asshole? Your cousin was the asshole or did you forget the reason why he no longer works for me?”

“So he borrowed some money-”

“I didn’t know stealing was the same thing as borrowing?”

“He paid it back.”

“Yeah after I broke his nose and threatened to beak his kneecaps with a crowbar.” Your eyes go wide as Harry tells Morgan what he did to her cousin as if it’s the most casual conversation he’s had all day. But to your surprise all Morgan does is place her hands on her hips and narrow her eyes at him while Harry just stands there unbothered.

“Oh please as if you ever do anything yourself you had Frank do it for you.” She snaps at him making Harry let out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief that of all the people in this city you could be friends with you somehow manage to pick someone who can’t stand him and all because he fired her cousin for stealing from him. And if Harry’s being honest she’s lucky her cousin is even still breathing but he’d never voice that out loud to her since she’s already looking at him like she wants to strangle him with her barehands.

“Frank? You think I sent Frank to deal with your idiot cousin? I wouldn’t trust him with my coffee order.” You feel like you’ve been standing on Morgan’s front porch for an hour when in reality it’s only been a few minutes but you decide in this moment you’ve heard enough and just want to go inside and change out of your work uniform.

“I’m going to go change while the two of you finish catching up.” Morgan looks at you and smiles as she moves to the side giving you enough space to walk through her front door, leaving her alone with Harry on the porch.

“Listen Morgan I’m not here to talk about your cousin or work I’m just here for book club.” Harry’s voice is calm and controlled, it doesn’t hold a single bit of the annoyance he has bubbling inside of him right now as he watches you enter the house and turn down a hallway so you’re no longer in his line of sight. Doing his best to hide the fact he doesn’t enjoy not being able to see you, he is willing to say whatever he needs in order to get inside the house.

“Fine but you’re not stepping a foot inside my house until you explain why you’re here with my bestfriend who doesn’t have anything to do with you or your business.” Harry can tell by her voice that she’s serious, she would make him sit outside on the porch all night until he gave her the details she’s looking for so he just nods before running a hand through his hair.

“I got into her car thinking it was mine and now here we are.” Morgan gives him a look that lets him know she isn’t buying a single word he’s saying.

“You got into her car thinking it was yours? Why because it’s a big black suv?” Morgan furrows her brows as Harry lets out an annoyed sigh and just shrugs in response making her roll her eyes. “God you’re such a narcissist.”

“So I’ve been told.” He says with a smirk as he remembers a very similar conversation he had with you earlier.

“You can’t come in dressed like that.” Morgan states as she eyes his suit and Harry for a moment considers just using your phone so he can call Eric to come get him but he really wants to see what this book club is all about since you were willing to risk your life by threatening his head of security just to get to it on time.

“Sorry I missed the memo that went over the dress code but this is all I have.” He explains making Morgan rub her lips together as she contemplates several options in her head, and when she finally gives Harry a smirk he knows he’s not going to like what she’s about to tell him.

“Fine just lose the jacket and you have to wear slippers.”

“I don’t wear slippers.”

“Then you don’t come inside.” Morgan watches Harry run a hand over his face as he lets out a sigh of defeat before looking at her and motioning towards the front door.

“Fine lead the way then.” She smiles and turns around to lead him into the house. “Just please don’t make them fuzzy.”

You walk out of Morgan’s bedroom finally feeling a bit more relaxed now that you’re out of your work clothes and in your gray sweat-shorts and pink t shirt, you smile as you walk down the hall and can hear the sound of Sydney’s voice. When you turn to go into the living room you feel like you just entered a weird alternate universe because Harry is sitting on the couch with his sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows, his suit jacket hung over the armrest of the couch, a pair of red and white fuzzy slippers with hearts all over them on his feet that are propped up on Morgan’s ottoman and a glass of wine in his hand. You look over to his left and see Sydney sitting next to him with her back against the armrest so she’s facing him with her wine glass clutched in both hand as her eyes go wide with a wild kind of excitement at something he just said.

“Wait you like-you can do that?” Sydney asks making Harry just nod in response as he takes a sip of his wine while you walk over to the loveseat across from the couch.

“He can do what?” You ask making Harry’s eyes travel across the room until they find yours and you ignore the small flutter your heart does when he gives you a smile as if he hasn’t seen you in ages when it’s just been ten minutes.

“He can beat up Johnny for me.” Sydney answers with an excitement you haven’t heard from her ever since her ex, Johnny cheated on her a few weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself.” He’s looking at you as he speaks and you roll your eyes as you lean over to grab the bottle of wine off the coffee table so you can pour yourself some but Harry is quicker than you so he beats you to it. Placing his own glass down on the coffee table, he picks up the bottle of white wine and an empty glass. “You’re quite scary when you’re annoyed so I can’t image how terrifying you could be to someone who really pissed you off.” He adds as he holds the full glass of wine out for you to take, an annoying grin on his face.

“She tried but he-” Sydney begins but then pauses to take a sip of wine.

“He what?” All the lightheartedness leaves Harry’s voice as he turns to look at Sydney and she swallows the sip of wine in her mouth before she turns to look at you which makes Harry follow her gaze, his green eyes a shade darker as they stare into yours. You want to laugh at how serious he is but you don’t, you oddly find it kind of nice knowing he seems upset at the mere idea of someone doing anything to you.

“He called the cops on me.” You answer for Sydney with a chuckle as you lean back into the cushions of the loveseat, doing your best to get comfortable.

“That’s because Johnny is a little bitch who was scared shitless the moment he saw you pull up into his driveway with that baseball bat.” You roll your eyes as Morgan explains what happened as she walks into the living room and places a tray of snacks down on the coffee table. Harry can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face as he imagines you in a fit of rage pulling up to someone’s house holding a baseball bat.

“Well he sure didn’t seem scared when I used it to smash his windshield. Seemed more angry than anything.” Harry takes a moment to look around the living room, as far as book clubs go he feels like it’s on the smaller side since it’s only the three of you and then him but he also for some reason feels the same way he does when he enters a meeting that’s just with his top men. So he can’t even stop himself before he says what comes to his mind next.

“Are you lot in a gang? Is that what this book club is actually for? Just a cover up for your meetings to discus who needs to be met with a baseball bat in their driveway?” All three of you look at him with playful glares making him just quirk a brow when Morgan takes a sip of her wine and looks away from him first so she can go into the kitchen to grab some napkins.

“Do you not have friends Harry? Because not every group of friends that are willing to go to jail for each other is a gang.” Sydney asks as she reaches over and gently places a hand on Harry’s knee and you have to rub your lips together to keep the laugh inside when you watch her give his knee a nice reassuring pat. “If you don’t that’s fine you’re like a big deal so-”

“Don’t feed his ego please he’s actually the worst mob boss ever he doesn’t even have a phone.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“I have a phone I just don’t have it on me right now.”

“What? So how do your uhm people know where you’re at?”

“I had to-”

“He called his security guy on my phone.”

“Oh is he cute? This security guy?”

“He had a nice phone voice.” You answer with a shrug before taking a sip of your wine while Harry has to bite his tongue to keep him from saying the worst things about Eric just to keep your friend away from him and for you to want to take back the thing about his nice phone voice. “His name is Eric.”

“Eric? Oh I know Eric. He’s your type Syd.” Morgan states as she places the napkins down and finally takes her spot next to you with her wine glass, she gives Sydney a playful wink making her let out a laugh.

“You can do better than Eric he’s not the best when it comes to dating someone.”

“I didn’t say I was tying to date him Harry.” Sydney mumbles as she takes her hand off his knee making you lean your head back and laugh when you see Harry close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his free hand as the realization of what Sydney actually means hits him.

“Well I have no comment on how he performs in that department.” He answers as he brings his wine glass up to his lips to take a rather large sip.

“But seriously you’d like-like really have someone beat Johnny up for me?” Sydney asks shyly as if she doesn’t fully believe that Harry has the connections or the time to deal with her ex boyfriend who he doesn’t even know. You look at Morgan because she’s the only other person in the room that knows what Harry does for a living and the type of people he’s associated with, she’s already looking at you and playfully wiggles her eyebrows as she sips her wine.

“Syd he could have Johnny more than just beat up.” Morgan says as she looks away from you and over to the girl who is now looking at Harry with a suspicious expression on her face. “He could have him swimming with the fishes if you know what I mean.” Sydney’s eyes go wide while Harry as usual looks completely unbothered as he turns his head so he can look at the girl who now seems a bit concerned with how close she’s sitting to him now that she knows what he’s capable of.

“The term is swimming with the fishes.” Harry corrects with a gentle smile while still looking at Sydney, Morgan just lets out a huff as she leans over to grab an apple slice from the snack tray on the coffee table. “And while yes I could make that happen I don’t really think it would be necessary in this situation.” You watch in amusement as Sydney stares at Harry with a hand clutching her chest and the other holding onto her wine glass for dear life.

“Okay well what would you do to him then?” You ask out of pure curiosity because you want to know what sort of punishment he thinks is fitting for Johnny, hoping it’s nothing too disturbing since he’s already mentioned to you how he has cars blown up with people he doesn’t like or sees as a threat as if it’s no big deal.

“Well in situations like these death is too nice so you simply make them wish for death just so the torture can end.” Harry doesn’t want to come off too harsh or make any of the girls in the room fear him, especially you so he does his best to make his tone soft and gentle even if the words are far from either of those things. But given how Morgan’s mouth is slightly hung open and Sydney’s eyebrows are almost raised so high they are hitting her hairline he would say his method didn’t work as well as he intended.

“Holy shit.”

“Did you-you say torture?”

“Jesus Harry you can’t talk about torturing someone so badly they beg for death while wearing fuzzy slippers at a spicy book club meeting.” Your words have Harry looking down at his feet and immediately rolling his eyes at the horrendous slippers that Morgan forced him to wear just so he could gain entry to her house.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“You’d be willing to do that? For me?” Everyone’s heads turn to look at Sydney, Harry feels an anger beginning to burn inside of him as Sydney looks at him with eyes that tell him she’s not used to people being so willing to do things for her let alone have someone hurt on her behalf and he knows it’s because no one has treated her the way she deserves.

“It’s the least I could do for you love.” He answers making a small blush creep its way onto her cheeks. “And if I’m being honest I wouldn’t really be doing it for you. I’d be doing it for myself because he just sounds like someone who needs to be taught a lesson or two on how to treat someone.” If there’s one thing Harry truly hates it’s men who don’t know how to treat their partners and this Johnny fellow doesn’t even know he just earned himself a spot on Harry’s shit list.

“So you’d handle it personally then?” Morgan asks with a quirked brow because she knows Harry almost never gets his hands dirty anymore unless he’s given no other choice.

“Yes I’d do it myself just like I did with your cousin.” Harry says as he glances at Morgan and gives her a look that tells her he’s not lying, he really is the one who broke her cousin’s nose.

“As long as you’re the one doing it I’m fine with it.” Sydney states nonchalantly as she leans over to grab a cracker off the snack tray.

“I do have one condition though.” He says with a smug like smile on his face as his attention shifts from Morgan over to you.

“A condition? You don’t get to negotiate something you offered to do in the first place Harry. How are you an actual mob boss? You really are the worst.” You argue as you glare at him making that annoying grin spread across his face, the one that makes his dimple appear and the butterflies to go off in your tummy.

“You have to agree to go to dinner with me next week.” You feel your eyes go wide as your mouth drops open while Morgan and Sydney stare at Harry with equally just as shocked expressions.

“Oh fuck off Harry I’ve already been held hostage by you in my own car and now you want to trap me into going to dinner with you just so you’ll beat up Johnny? You’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t lost anything. I’m just going off that old saying of if you’re good at something don’t do it for free.”

“We aren’t offering up our friend as payment for you to almost kill someone Harry. Don’t be fucking gross.” Morgan says in your defense but Harry doesn’t pay her any attention, his eyes still set on yours as he waits for your answer.

“Yeah Harry you’re acting like one of those poorly written romance novel mafia bosses who kidnap the girl they like and force them into a weird marriage and we are very much anti forced anything around here.” Sydney adds making both you and Morgan giggle as her worlds become a bit jumbled towards the end due to the fact she tries to take a sip of wine while still speaking.

“I’m not forcing her into anything she can say no and that would be fine.” You bite your bottom lip as Harry stares at you.

You let out a long sigh before you take a sip of wine to help calm your nerves as you contemplate your options, you know Harry is involved in a world you’ve only really read about or watched movies depicting the violence that takes place in it but you also know there’s a subtle softness to him. Because even now the man is at a book club drinking shitty wine and wearing slippers all so he could spend the rest of the evening with you. Once you’ve made your choice you lean over and place your glass on the table before crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him.

“I’m not going to dinner with you until after you do whatever it is you’re going to do to Johnny.” You counter his original offer making him narrow his eyes at you a bit clearly not expecting you to be try to negotiate with him.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to argue with me about it or anything?”

“Nope.” His answer makes you raise an eyebrow because it’s a bit unnerving how quickly he accepted your offer. “If you try to flake out on me I know where to find you.” He adds as a gentle reminder that he knows where you work and what kind of car you drive. While Harry is busy looking at you he doesn’t notice Sydney’s hand coming up to smack him upside the head causing his eyes to narrow as he turns and gives her a harsh glare but she doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered by it as she’s also glaring at him.

“You can’t threaten her while also asking her out on a date Harry god you are the fucking worst at this.” You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth so your laughter doesn’t spread throughout the room as Sydney lets Harry have it. “Like seriously learn some manners.” She adds with a huff as she gets comfortable on her side of the couch.

“See what I mean? Worst mob boss ever.” You say with a laugh making Harry roll his eyes as he turns his attention back to you.

“Are we going to actually discuss the book or just sit here and give Harry a list of people we need him to hurt for us?” Morgan asks as she motions to the book in question that’s sitting next to the snack tray on the coffee table.

“For every name you add to the list it’s another dinner she has to go to with me.” He explains knowing it will make you all huffy and annoyed, something he’s coming to enjoy even though he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help that he likes the way your eyes get this little glimmer in them when you look at him while frustrated with something he’s said or done.

“So the book it is then.” You answer for everyone making Harry chuckle as you reach for your copy that has your bookmark on the page you left off at, deciding for the rest of the girls that one dinner with Harry is all you’re willing to do at this point. So when they both just nod and grab their own books you let out a small sigh of relief because you know deep down that the more time you spend with Harry the more you’ll probably end up enjoying it and you can’t have that because who wants to enjoy the company of the worst mob boss ever? Certainly not you.

[killerprotector]

Sooooo was no one going to tell me that the Divergent movie series is incomplete? Like I was just going to rewatch all this only to find out we’re never going to get to see the funeral zip line scene?? I’m just supposed to cope with that???? All this nostalgia and for what??? Why do they keep doing this to me???

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia Vanrouge x reader

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey it looks like he likes you too.

Series Masterlist

You love your best friend. You really, really do. But sometimes—sometimes—the things they drag you into make you question your life choices. This time? It’s a novel. A bad one.

The plot is borderline unreadable, but somehow, it’s now your problem. Because of course it is.

“So, listen,” your friend had said, waving the book around like it was some kind of literary masterpiece. “Malleus Draconia, the fae prince, is cursed—chained up in this forest. The curse can only be broken by someone who isn��t attracted to him. But here’s the kicker: he’s so hot that no one can break the curse. For ten years.”

“Uh-huh.” You’d nodded along, already feeling your brain cells start to wave white flags of surrender. But your friend continued.

“The main character stumbles upon him after years of drama and frees him because they’re the only one not drooling over him. Then they fall in love, blah, blah, blah.”

At this point, you were barely listening. But then they dropped the bomb. Your eyes were shutting and you felt the sweet embrace of sleep call to you.

“Also, there’s this subplot where a magical plague of squirrels overruns the kingdom, the Saint betrays everyone by secretly being a double agent for some shadowy organization, and—get this—there’s a surprise paternity reveal where the devil is the father of the Saint who turns out to be the evil villain controlling everything.”

Your face had hit the pillow as your soul left your body.

And somehow, the next thing you remember is waking up dead. Or, more specifically, reincarnated. In the body of the heroine. In that story.

You can't believe the story was so terrible that it killed you.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that the room is way too fancy for your tastes. The bed is massive, the sheets feel like they cost more than your entire existence, and the walls are adorned with tacky portraits of people who are probably supposed to be important.

“Oh, no,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

But it is. You’re in the novel. The very one your friend had been yammering about. And not only are you in it, but you’ve woken up a full year before the plot is supposed to kick off. A year of waiting for terrible drama, an ex-fiancé who can’t take a hint, and a poor fae prince you’re supposed to rescue.

But you? Yeah, you’re not that patient.

“No way am I waiting a whole year for some garbage plot to unfold,” you mutter, throwing the covers off. “I’m just going to free Malleus now, take my reward, and live a quiet, drama-free life by the beach.”

With that plan firmly in mind, you march out the door.

It takes a bit of wandering through some overly cursed forest, but you eventually find Malleus’s “prison.” And honestly? It’s not nearly as dramatic as you expected.

There he is, sitting in the middle of a clearing, chained up in some kind of spooky-but-also-weirdly-ornate setup. He looks just as the novel described: tall, dark-haired, horns giving him an air of mystery and power. But what you weren’t prepared for? The way his eyes widen slightly in surprise when he sees you.

“I wasn’t expecting… company,” Malleus says, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You pause for a second. He looks intimidating, sure, but there’s something oddly… sweet about him. Like a guy who’d get excited over a party invite and then be too shy to actually show up.

“Yeah, I’m just here to get this whole ‘curse-breaking’ thing out of the way,” you say casually, walking up to the chains. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

Malleus blinks, looking a bit confused. “You… are not attracted to me?”

You snort. “Nah, not really. You’re nice to look at, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve got my own problems. Let’s just get you free so I can collect my reward and move on.”

He still looks mildly surprised but nods. “Very well.”

With a shrug, you reach out and touch the chains. There’s a brief flicker of light, and they dissolve. Just like that.

Malleus looks down at his freed wrists, clearly shocked. “It… it worked.”

“Yeah, wild, right?” you say, brushing off your hands. “So, about that reward…”

Before you can finish, Malleus stands and, in a tone so polite it makes you feel guilty, says, “You have freed me. Please, allow me to invite you to stay at my castle. As a guest.”

You blink at him. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

Malleus’s expression falters for a moment, and you swear he looks a little sad. “But… I would like to repay you for your kindness.”

He’s giving you this look, all wide-eyed and hopeful, and you realize—he just wants to hang out.

Oh no.

“Ugh, fine,” you groan. “I’ll stick around for a bit.”

The way his face lights up is honestly too pure for someone who was supposed to be all intimidating and all-powerful.

When you arrive at Malleus’s castle, things get interesting real fast. You’re greeted by his entourage—Sebek, who looks like he’s one insult away from going Super Saiyan; Silver, who’s napping on his feet; and Lilia, who seems like the embodiment of chaos.

Sebek is the first to speak, scowling at you with righteous fury. “How DARE you approach Lord Malleus with such insolence!”

You roll your eyes. “I just freed him. You’re welcome.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but Lilia steps forward, his sharp grin making you instantly suspicious. “Oh? You broke the curse? Without being… swayed by our dear Malleus’s charms?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Fascinating. You must have quite the willpower. Or perhaps…” He looks you up and down, clearly intrigued. “You simply have different tastes?”

You blink. Then, without thinking, you point at him. “Actually, yeah. You’re hot.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence, during which Sebek looks like he’s been hit with a brick, and Lilia lets out a delighted laugh.

“Oh, you are a delight,” Lilia says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Perhaps you should stay longer.”

“You think I’m joking, but I’m not,” you deadpan, earning a grin from Lilia.

Silver, meanwhile, is still half-asleep and completely unfazed by your chaos. “Good job on freeing Malleus,” he mutters, yawning.

Malleus, who has been silent this whole time, finally speaks up. “You… do not find me attractive?”

You turn to him and sigh. “Look, it’s not that you’re not attractive. You’re, like… objectively pretty. But I don’t really go for the whole cursed prince thing.”

Malleus seems to process this slowly, his brows furrowing slightly. “I see…”

“But don’t worry,” you add quickly, feeling a bit bad for the guy. “You’re sweet. It’s a compliment, really.”

Malleus looks a little less confused and a bit more happy. “Sweet? No one has ever called me that before.”

You snort. “Well, I’m calling it now. And hey, you’ve got your freedom, right? Now you can get invited to all those parties you wanted.”

At this, Malleus’s eyes widen slightly, and you realize—oh no, he’s the type who really just wants to be invited to stuff.

“Oh,” you mutter under your breath, “you’re like a giant puppy, aren’t you?”

Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused, but before he can ask, Lilia leans in with a knowing grin. “I think you’ll fit in just fine around here.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is gonna be a long stay, isn’t it?”

Lilia’s smile widens. “Oh, most definitely.”

Later, you’re sitting around the dining hall with the group when Lilia casually brings up the dreaded plot points.

“So, when do you think the magical plague of squirrels will hit?” he asks, almost too casually.

You nearly choke on your drink. “The what now?”

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Lilia smirks. “There’s a prophecy. The squirrels will overrun the kingdom unless someone stops them.”

You blink. “This is real? I thought that part was a fever dream.”

Malleus nods seriously. “The squirrels are quite the threat.”

You slam your head on the table. “I’m trapped in a nightmare.”

Silver, half-asleep as always, just yawns. “I’ll take care of them. Probably.”

And that’s when you realize: maybe you should have let the curse be.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, but you and Malleus… well, you’ve become friends. It started small, mostly casual conversations where he’d hover around, awkward but eager, just happy to be included. There was this one time you invited him to tea, and the poor guy looked like he was about to cry from happiness. Now? You’re taking your frienship to the next level.

“Hey,” you say, strolling into the throne room where Malleus is doing the farthest thing from brooding. He’s just kind of standing there, staring out the window like he’s daydreaming about a really nice picnic. “Want to go to the market with me?”

The look on his face is priceless. His eyes widen like you’ve just handed him a golden ticket to the best party of the year. “You… want me to accompany you?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, as if this isn’t the biggest deal of his life. “I need to pick up some stuff, and I figured it’d be more fun with a friend. Plus, y’know, maybe someone will actually give me a discount if you’re there.”

Malleus looks like you just offered him the world “I would be honored.”

And that’s how you, Malleus, and the rest of his chaotic entourage—because of course they followed—ended up at the bustling market.

Sebek? Less than thrilled. In fact, you think he might actually be foaming at the mouth. “I cannot believe you are fraternizing with Lord Malleus so casually! Do you not understand the honor you’ve been given?!”

“Sebek,” you sigh, waving a hand dismissively, “we’ve been over this. I’m his friend. Friends do normal stuff together. You know, like going to the market.”

Sebek glares at you like you’ve just insulted his entire bloodline. “Lord Malleus does not engage in such trivialities!”

“Uh,” you glance over at Malleus, who is currently inspecting a row of intricately carved fruit. “He’s literally doing it right now, Sebek.”

Malleus turns to you, holding up a fruit shaped like a tiny dragon. “Would you like to try one? It is said to bring good fortune.”

You grin at him. “If you’re offering, I’m down.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode from sheer indignation.

“You dare—!”

“Sebek,” Malleus cuts in, his voice as gentle as ever. “I am quite enjoying myself. There’s no need to worry.”

You grin at the sight. “You’re really into this, huh?”

Malleus glances at you, a little bashful but still smiling. “I have never been invited to something like this before. It is… a new experience.”

Oh god, he’s so sweet. You feel like you’re corrupting a baby deer by dragging him into the real world, but it’s so worth it.

Lilia, however, is having the time of his life. He leans over, grinning like the mischievous little gremlin he is, and whispers in your ear, “I must say, you’ve got quite the charm. Lord Malleus rarely accepts invitations. You might be more important to him than you think.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, maybe he just really likes fruit.”

Lilia laughs, a sound that’s equal parts endearing and dangerous. “Or maybe he enjoys your company, hm?”

“Careful,” you say, flashing a grin. “Keep sweet-talking me like that, and I might start flirting back.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Oh? I think I’d enjoy that.”

Oh god, he’s not backing down. Now you’re in the deep end. “Listen, if you keep going, I’m gonna have to ask if you’ve got plans for dinner.”

“I’m free this evening,” Lilia replies smoothly. “Shall I prepare a feast? Or perhaps we could have something more… intimate?”

You blink at him, unable to tell if he’s messing with you or if this is just how he operates. Either way, you’re so down to find out.

Before you can respond, Sebek cuts in, voice raised to what can only be described as ‘angry airhorn.’ “You will not speak so casually to Master Lilia!”

“Oh, Sebek, relax,” you say, patting him on the shoulder, which is a mistake because it feels like patting a brick wall. “He likes it.”

Lilia winks at you, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. “Indeed, I do.”

You smirk, shooting Lilia a playful look. “See? The man’s practically begging for attention.”

Malleus, meanwhile, has been watching this entire exchange with mild confusion. “Is this what humans call… flirting?”

You give him an exaggerated nod. “Yup. It’s a sacred tradition. Very serious stuff.”

“I see,” Malleus muses, looking between you and Lilia. “Perhaps I should try it as well?”

“Oh, please don’t,” Sebek groans, looking absolutely horrified at the idea of Malleus flirting. “Lord Malleus, you are above such trivial pursuits!”

Lilia is practically cackling at this point. “Now, now, Sebek. It wouldn’t hurt to let Malleus explore new experiences.”

You grin and elbow Malleus lightly. “Don’t listen to Sebek. You can totally flirt if you want.”

Malleus, sweet as he is, looks completely serious when he asks, “What would I say? I do not wish to offend.”

You pause, trying very hard not to laugh. “Okay, how about this? Try complimenting someone. Like…” You glance around and point at a vendor selling flowers. “Tell them they have lovely flowers.”

Malleus nods, taking this very seriously, and walks over to the vendor. You, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver (who’s been napping the whole time) watch as Malleus, ever the gentleman, says to the vendor, “Your flowers… are as radiant as the moonlight.”

The vendor looks flustered, blushing furiously. “Oh! Thank you, My Lord!”

You can’t help but laugh. “See? You’re a natural.”

Malleus returns to your side, looking pleased with himself. “I believe that went well.”

“Yeah, now you just have to work on *accepting* compliments,” you say with a wink, and Malleus tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“Accepting?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “like, if I were to tell you you’re the sweetest giant fae-dragon puppy I’ve ever met, you’d say…?”

Malleus looks genuinely flustered, his cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink. “I… would say… thank you?”

“Good enough,” you laugh, nudging him playfully. “We’ll work on it.”

Sebek is muttering to himself about ‘disrespect’ and ‘sacrilege,’ but Malleus looks… happy. Like, really happy. He’s still a little awkward, sure, but you can tell he’s having a good time. Probably more fun than he’s had in years.

Lilia, meanwhile, is back at your side, leaning in close with that smirk of his. “You’re quite the influence, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” you grin, “someone’s gotta drag him into the real world.”

“Perhaps you’ll drag me into something as well?” Lilia purrs, his voice low and teasing.

You blink at him. “Keep talking, and I might actually propose to you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Lilia says, eyes glinting with mischief. “Perhaps later tonight?”

“Is that an invitation?” you quip, raising an eyebrow.

Sebek practically has steam coming out of his ears. “Master Lilia!”

But Lilia just laughs, utterly unfazed. “Oh, Sebek. You really must learn to loosen up.”

Silver yawns loudly, cutting through Sebek’s rant like a chainsaw through butter. “Can we get food now?”

You snort. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Malleus, ever the polite host, nods eagerly. “Yes, let us dine together. A family outing is not complete without a meal.”

You pause, blinking. Family? Did he just call this a family outing?

Lilia catches your expression and chuckles. “Oh dear, it seems Malleus has grown quite fond of you.”

You shoot him a playful glare. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” Lilia says, smiling knowingly. “In fact, I believe it’s quite the opposite.”

Before you can respond, Malleus steps up, still radiating pure joy. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight? I would very much enjoy your company.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to self-destruct from sheer disbelief, but you? You can’t help but grin. “Sure, why not? But if I catch you stealing my dessert, it’s game over.”

Malleus chuckles, his awkwardness fading just a bit. “I shall do my best to restrain myself.”

Lilia leans over, voice low and teasing again. “Perhaps you’ll save dessert for me, hm?”

You snort. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

“Ah, but I’m a fae. Luck is my specialty.”

You shake your head, grinning as you walk alongside Malleus, who’s positively glowing with happiness. Yeah, this is one weird, dysfunctional family, but maybe you like it that way.

It’s quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that settles deep in your bones, making you feel both peaceful and unbearably restless. You find yourself standing on a balcony, overlooking the courtyard bathed in moonlight. The cool breeze whispers through the trees, the scent of night-blooming flowers drifting lazily through the air.

Lilia stands beside you, leaning against the stone railing, his usual playful demeanor absent. In its place is a rare solemnity, something you’ve only seen glimpses of before. You glance at him, noting the way the moonlight catches in his hair, casting soft shadows across his face. It feels... strange, seeing him like this. So serious, so quiet.

After a long silence, he speaks, his voice soft but weighted with emotion. “I was terrified, you know. Of losing him.”

You don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. Malleus. The curse that had wrapped around him for so long, a dark cloud that threatened to take him away. You had been the unexpected catalyst for breaking it, and while you hadn’t fully understood the gravity of it at the time, you’re beginning to now.

Lilia continues, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen many things, lost many people... but the thought of losing him...” He trails off, his voice catching in a way that makes your heart ache. “It would have broken me.”

You swallow, unsure of what to say. What can you say to something like that? You’re just... you. You never asked to be involved in any of this, never imagined that you’d become such an important part of these people’s lives. But here you are.

“I didn’t do anything special,” you finally manage, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just... there.”

Lilia turns to look at you, and there’s something deep in his eyes—something raw and real that takes your breath away. “Sometimes just being there is enough,” he says quietly. “You saved him. And in doing so, you saved me too.”

You shift uncomfortably, not because of his words, but because of the way they tug at something deep inside of you. A part of you that you’ve been trying to keep buried for as long as you’ve been in this strange, unfamiliar world.

You’re silent for a long time, your gaze fixed on the moonlit sky. The memories of your old life swirl in your mind—your family, your best friend, all the people you’ve left behind. You haven’t spoken about it to anyone here, not in detail. It feels too dangerous, too vulnerable. But standing here, under the moonlight with Lilia, you feel like maybe... just maybe... you can share a piece of it.

“I miss them,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “My family. My best friend. I miss... home.”

Lilia doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. He doesn’t press for details, doesn’t ask questions you’re not ready to answer. He just listens, and somehow, that’s enough.

You take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. “It’s hard,” you continue, your voice shaking slightly. “Being here. Being away from them. Sometimes it feels like... like I’m losing pieces of myself. Like I’m forgetting what it felt like to be... whole.”

Lilia’s hand gently rests on your shoulder, a comforting weight that grounds you. “You haven’t lost yourself,” he says quietly. “Not even a little.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. You don’t know if he’s right, but in this moment, you want to believe him. You want to believe that despite everything, despite the distance and the pain and the uncertainty, you’re still... you.

For a long time, the two of you stand in silence, the only sounds the soft rustling of the trees and the distant chirping of crickets. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting everything in a silvery glow. There’s a quiet understanding between you and Lilia, a shared pain that neither of you needs to fully explain.

Eventually, Lilia speaks again, his voice so soft it almost blends with the wind. “The world can be a cruel place,” he murmurs. “But it can also be kind. And in moments like this... it feels just a little more bearable, doesn’t it?”

You nod, your throat tight with unshed tears. “Yeah,” you whisper. “It does.”

The night stretches on, and though neither of you say anything more, there’s a comfort in the silence. A bond formed in the quiet acknowledgment of each other’s pain. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not quite so alone.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay.

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here, but somehow, you’re on a date with Lilia. Yes, that Lilia—lord of chaos, culinary adventurer, and general source of havoc.

The setting is picturesque enough: a meadow at sunset, complete with wildflowers and a gentle breeze. At least, it would be picturesque if not for the feast Lilia has prepared, which has a worrying amount of color, movement, and mystery.

“Surprise is the key to a romantic evening,” Lilia declares as he gestures proudly over the assortment of dishes.

You take a moment to assess the display. There’s a vibrantly colored stew that seems to be emitting steam with a life of its own. A platter of vegetables is twitching as if they’re reconsidering their life choices. And there’s a pie—definitely a pie—with something that looks suspiciously like an eyeball poking out from under the crust.

Lilia smiles at you, eyes glinting. “Would you like to try the stew first, my dear? It’s my own special concoction.”

You stare at it, then at him. “How many people have survived eating this?”

Lilia leans in, eyes full of mischief. “Define survived.”

You grin. “Only one way to find out, right?” Before he can respond, you reach for the bowl and take a large spoonful of the stew. Lilia’s eyebrows rise, clearly impressed by your boldness.

It tastes... unusual. Like someone mixed spicy peppers, sweet berries, and some kind of very sharp herb. You take another bite, considering.

Lilia watches you, waiting for a reaction. “Well?” he asks, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You swallow, then nod thoughtfully. “It’s... actually good. Really good, in fact.”

Lilia blinks, his expression shifting from mischief to genuine surprise. “Really?”

You nod again, going in for a third bite, savoring the strange combination of flavors. “Yeah! I mean, it’s different, but in a good way. The spice, the sweetness... it kind of works.”

Lilia’s face lights up, his delight palpable. “You truly mean it? My culinary prowess is usually met with... trepidation.”

“Trepidation might be an understatement,” you say with a laugh. “But honestly? I think people don’t give you enough credit.”

From somewhere nearby, a strangled gasp echoes across the meadow.

“Master Lilia!” Sebek’s voice rings out, sounding more horrified than ever. You glance in the direction of the bushes where, sure enough, they’re rustling. Apparently, Sebek has taken it upon himself to supervise this date from afar.

Lilia chuckles, clearly enjoying Sebek's reaction as much as yours. “Oh, my dear Sebek. One day, you shall learn that adventure begins in the kitchen.”

You take a sip of the iridescent liquid before you—a drink that looks more like a potion than anything else. It’s sparkling, and it has the distinct taste of... glittery fruit juice? You’re not sure, but it’s oddly refreshing.

Lilia eyes you, his smile turning softer, more genuine. “I must say, you are full of surprises. Most would have fainted by now.”

“Hey, I can handle a little excitement,” you say, reaching for one of the twitching vegetables.

Lilia watches in awe as you pop it into your mouth and chew. “And?” he asks, almost breathless.

You blink. “Crunchy. Kind of earthy. I like it.”

Lilia’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh, how wonderful! My dear, you truly are one of a kind.”

Sebek’s dismayed groan echoes once again, and you laugh, glancing toward the bushes. “I think we’re breaking poor Sebek.”

“Well, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Lilia replies, leaning closer to you. “And speaking of fun, I have something special for you.” He produces a bright blue flower, presenting it to you with a flourish.

You take it, giving it a cautious sniff. It smells like fresh-baked cookies, and you look at Lilia, raising an eyebrow. “A flower that smells like dessert? Now you’re really spoiling me.”

Lilia’s eyes soften, his voice lowering. “Only the best for someone who appreciates my unique touch.”

Before you can reply, there’s another voice—this one distinctly sleepy. “Father, what... what’s going on here?” Silver approaches, looking like he just woke up from a nap. He takes one look at the scene—the half-eaten dishes, the flower in your hand, and Lilia’s delighted expression—and sighs. “Are you actually eating this... willingly?”

You nod, grinning. “Turns out Lilia’s cooking isn’t so bad. It’s actually kind of great.”

Silver looks at you, then at Lilia, then back at you. He blinks, his brain clearly trying to process this information. “Father, are you using magic to manipulate their taste buds?”

Lilia puts a hand over his heart, looking offended. “Silver, how could you suggest such a thing? I assure you, our dear friend here is enjoying my cooking purely of their own volition.”

Silver sighs again, rubbing his temples. “I think I need another nap.”

Lilia laughs, turning his attention back to you, his eyes filled with affection. “You truly are something special, my dear. Few have ever dared, let alone enjoyed, my creations.”

You smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Lilia leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Would it be too much to say I find you... irresistible?”

You chuckle, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

Lilia smirks, his gaze full of warmth. “Ah, but pushing my luck is what I do best. Perhaps next time, I’ll cook an even more adventurous meal for us.”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “Define adventurous.”

Lilia’s eyes glint mischievously. “How about roasted phoenix feathers?”

“Phoenix feathers?” you echo, shaking your head with a laugh. “You know what? I think I like you just the way you are—absurd cooking experiments and all.”

Lilia’s expression softens, his smile turning tender. “I’m glad to hear it.”

With that, the two of you rise, arm in arm, leaving behind the bizarre remains of the meal. Somewhere in the bushes, Sebek is probably fuming, and Silver has most likely already fallen asleep again.

But as you glance at Lilia, whose eyes are still filled with excitement and warmth, you think that maybe absurd is just what you need.

You love this little family, but you had to gain equal footing with Sebek before you got attached any further. So you did what you thought would work the best— Challenge him in something he enjoys.

You and Sebek had been circling the field for a while now, your horses galloping side by side as you both tried to outpace each other. The competitive tension was thick in the air, though not hostile—it was more of an unspoken game to see who would crack first.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been riding horses for *years*?” Sebek shouts over the wind, his eyes sharp with determination.

“Yup,” you reply, grinning as your horse picks up speed. “Equestrian club, since I was a kid. Surprised?”

Sebek huffs, his posture straight and rigid as always, but you can tell he’s impressed. “It’s… commendable. For a human, you’ve got some skill.”

“Some skill?” you tease, glancing over at him with a mischievous smile. “Is that all I get? Come on, Sebek, I thought you were competitive.”

He narrows his eyes at you, spurring his horse faster to pull ahead. “I am competitive! You’ll find I do not lose so easily.”

You laugh, nudging your horse to keep up. There’s a thrill in it—pushing each other, but not in a mean way. Sebek’s passion for horse riding matches your own, and it’s fun to finally find common ground with him. Plus, you’re enjoying the challenge.

The field blurs by as you both race toward the far fence, neither of you backing down. As you approach the finish line (or rather, the arbitrary spot you both decided was the end), you both cross it at nearly the same time, pulling your horses to a halt, panting slightly.

Sebek is the first to speak, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Hmph. You’re not bad.”

“Not bad? I’d say I’m pretty good,” you shoot back, grinning ear to ear.

Sebek scoffs, but there’s a lightness in his tone that wasn’t there before. “You’re still a human, but… I’ll admit, you ride with some honor.”

“Wow, high praise,” you tease, but you soften your smile. “Thanks, Sebek. You’re not half-bad yourself.”

For a split second, you think you catch the ghost of a smile on his face, but it quickly disappears as he straightens in his saddle. “Of course. Riding is in my blood.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, obviously. I bet you were born in the saddle.”

“Perhaps I was,” Sebek says, completely serious. You stifle a laugh, realizing he probably believes that.

But before you can retort, Lilia rides up, his usual mischievous grin firmly in place. “Ah, what’s this? A friendly competition between two of my favorite people?”

“Master Lilia,” Sebek says, immediately shifting into soldier mode. “We were just—”

“Competing, yes, I can see that.” Lilia’s grin widens as he glances between the two of you. “I must say, the sight of you both racing like that was… quite exhilarating.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “What, did we impress you?”

Lilia leans closer, voice dropping into a playful tone. “Oh, darling, I’ve been impressed by you for quite some time now.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to faint from sheer mortification. “MASTER LILIA! HUMAN!”

You laugh, waving Lilia off. “Careful, Sebek, you’re gonna scare your horse.”

But surprisingly, Sebek doesn’t snap back. Instead, he looks at you, something softer in his expression. “I admit… you’ve shown me something today. Perhaps you’re not just a reckless human after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wow, Sebek. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re starting to like me.”

Sebek grumbles, looking away. “Do not mistake my words. I merely acknowledge your competence. Nothing more.”

“Sure, sure,” you reply, still grinning. “But hey, anytime you wanna ride again, I’m game.”

Sebek glances back at you, his usual harshness softened just a bit. “Perhaps… I will take you up on that.”

Lilia chuckles, clearly pleased with the budding camaraderie. “Ah, it warms my heart to see you two bonding. Who knows? Maybe you’ll become the best of friends.”

You wink at Lilia. “Well, if Sebek keeps up, maybe I’ll make him my official riding partner.”

Sebek, for once, doesn’t argue. Instead, he gives a small, determined nod. “We shall see, human. We shall see.”

As you ride back toward the stables, you can’t help but smile. You’ve earned a bit of respect from Sebek, and who knows? Maybe you’ll turn this into a full-fledged rivalry—one with a bit more fun and a lot less shouting.

Lilia, of course, flirts all the way back, making sure to keep the mood light and teasing, much to Sebek’s increasing exasperation. But even he can't deny that today was fun

The day should've been as normal as you could have these days—your stomach had other plans. There’s this nagging craving in the back of your mind for ramen, but of course, you’re stuck in a medieval isekai world where even the concept of instant noodles would make heads explode.

You groan, pacing back and forth in your room. "Ramen, ramen, ramen..." You’re practically chanting it like a spell. Finally, you snap your fingers. "Alright! Let’s get some ramen going!"

With all the determination of a contestant in a cooking show, you head to the market, a list of makeshift ingredients mentally prepared. You have no clue how you’re going to explain seaweed or soy sauce to the vendors, but hey, you’ve gotten this far in life on sheer audacity.

Except, ten minutes later, you find yourself hopelessly lost. You had been walking with confidence, chest out, head high, until you somehow managed to wander into a part of town that definitely wasn’t on your mental map. Instead of bustling vendors and cheerful shoppers, you’re now looking at a spooky, abandoned-looking area, complete with dense fog and suspiciously creaky trees.

“This... This isn’t the market,” you mutter, pausing in front of a seriously ominous cottage. If there were ever a sign that said "DO NOT ENTER" in flashing neon, this would be it. And yet, for reasons unknown even to yourself, you approach.

Before you can bolt in the opposite direction, the door swings open with the most dramatic creak you’ve ever heard. A woman, dressed in black robes, stands in the doorway with a gaze that could curdle milk. Her aura practically screams witch, and not the cool kind either—the villainous, melodramatic kind.

“Well, well, well,” she sneers, stepping out with all the grace of a Broadway villain, “look who wandered into my lair.”

“Uh, yeah...” You trail off, scratching the back of your head. “So… this isn’t the market?”

The witch gives you a look so condescending it could melt iron. “No,” she hisses, “it most certainly is not. You’ve trespassed on my domain, little fool!”

“Right, so sorry about that,” you say, trying to backpedal. “I’m just trying to make some ramen, and I—wait, hold on, who are you exactly?”

Her eyes flash with annoyance. “You don’t know who I am?”

You blink at her. “Is this the part where you tell me, like in those cartoons? ‘Cause I’m getting major ‘I’m about to monologue’ vibes right now.”

The witch’s face twitches, clearly not used to people interrupting her villain speech. “I,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect, “am the witch who cursed Malleus Draconia!”

Oh, that witch. You’ve heard some stories about her, mostly from half-paying attention when your friend geeked out over the original plot. But now that you’re face-to-face with her... this is not how you pictured it. You tilt your head.

“So, wait,” you begin, trying to suppress a snicker, “you’re the one who came up with that whole 15-year curse plan? And your big finale was… what? Swooping in at the last second to save him and then expecting him to marry you?”

Her eyes narrow. “That was the plan.”

You stare at her for a moment, the absurdity sinking in. “...That’s ridiculous.”

“How dare you mock me?!” she shrieks, her voice reaching a pitch that probably scared some birds out of nearby trees. She raises her hand, dark magic swirling between her fingers, and you swear you can hear thunder crack in the distance.

“Okay, hang on,” you say, taking a cautious step back. “Let’s not get all zappy here. I’m just saying that’s a lot of effort for a plan that has, like, a one percent success rate.”

“Silence!” She’s fuming now, throwing her hand forward to launch the magic at you—and you brace yourself for the worst. You’ve seen this in movies before. This is the part where you get turned into a frog or something equally terrible.

Except… nothing happens.

The magic fizzles out midair like a dud firecracker, leaving a puff of smoke and an awkward silence in its wake. You blink. She blinks. You both stare at the spot where the magic should have been.

“Uh…” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck. “Was that supposed to do something?”

The witch looks at her hand, then at you, then back at her hand again like she’s having a serious identity crisis. “What...?”

“I mean, points for the drama, but I’m still standing here,” you say, waving your hand in front of your face as if checking for damage. “And I don’t think I’m a toad.”

She tries again, gathering more magic in her hands and launching it at you with renewed fury. But once again, nothing. The magic stops short, fizzling out like it’s hitting an invisible barrier around you. Now she’s just staring at you, dumbfounded.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely flabbergasted. “Okay, this is getting weird.”

That’s when Lilia appears—literally, out of nowhere. He casually steps out from behind a tree like this is all a normal Monday for him. “Ah, I thought I sensed some familiar mischief afoot,” he says, his voice cheerful, though his eyes glint with something far more dangerous as they lock onto the witch.

The witch recoils, visibly shaken. “Lilia Vanrouge,” she hisses, sounding more like a disgruntled cat than a fearsome sorceress.

“In the flesh,” he says with a light bow, his grin all sharp teeth and mischief. “What brings you out of your little hidey-hole?”

She glares at him but doesn’t say anything. She’s outmatched, and she knows it. With one last seething look at you, she vanishes into thin air with a dramatic whoosh of smoke, leaving you and Lilia alone in the now eerily quiet forest.

You turn to him, utterly confused. “What the heck was that about? Why didn’t her magic work on me?”

Lilia’s grin softens, his gaze turning fond. “Ah, I see I’ve forgotten to tell you. I placed a fae’s blessing on you some time ago.”

“Wait, what?” You gape at him. “When did you do that?!”

He chuckles, as if you asking when he bestowed a magical shield on you is the most amusing thing he’s heard all week. “You tend to attract trouble, my dear. I thought it best to give you a little extra protection.”

You blink at him, still processing. “So… you’ve been secretly protecting me this whole time?”

His gaze turns a bit more serious, the usual playful air dropping away. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he says softly, the words carrying a weight you hadn’t expected.

For a moment, you’re left speechless, flustered even. The teasing and jokes you’re so used to from Lilia are gone, replaced by something… deeper. It throws you off your game.

“Well, uh…” You clear your throat, desperately trying to recover. “I appreciate not getting turned into a frog or whatever she was planning.”

His grin returns, and the moment passes. “You’re welcome. Now, shall we head back to the market? I believe you were on a quest for... ramen, was it?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the absurdity of it all catches up with you. “Yeah, let’s do that. And maybe next time I’ll avoid wandering into spooky villain lairs.”

“An excellent plan,” he says, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

And just like that, you’re back on track—albeit a bit more shaken than before, but at least you’ve got a magical blessing you didn’t know about and one very charming fae escorting you through the mess.

You’re sitting under a large tree in the courtyard, soaking up the rare bit of peace and quiet that’s fallen over your life. It’s a nice day, the kind that makes you feel all warm and content, the sun shining gently through the leaves. Beside you, Silver is leaning against the trunk, dozing off as usual. You’ve become used to his tendency to fall asleep mid-conversation, and honestly, it’s kind of adorable.

He stirs a little, blinking his sleepy eyes open and looking at you with a soft smile. “It’s nice to have moments like this,” he says, voice a bit groggy. “Especially after everything.”

“Yeah,” you reply, leaning back on your hands. “It’s been... a lot.”

Silver glances at you, his gaze thoughtful. “You really helped us. My family,” he says, his tone a bit more serious than usual. “Freeing Lord Malleus from that curse... it was no small feat.”

Your stomach twists a little at the mention of Malleus. It still feels surreal that you had a hand in such a monumental event. You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Eh, you know... just another day of accidentally stumbling into chaos.”

He chuckles lightly, his smile softening even more. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for what you’ve done. You really saved us all.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Stop, you’re going to make me blush. I was just trying to make some money, and suddenly I’m in the middle of an epic quest. You know how it is.”

Silver hums, half-amused, and then casually drops the bomb on you like it’s the most normal thing in the world: “You’d be perfect with Father.”

Your brain short-circuits. “...Sorry, what?”

Silver, utterly oblivious to the internal crisis he’s just unleashed within you, looks at you with that serene, peaceful expression of his. “Father. You’d be perfect with him.”

The world screeches to a halt. *Perfect? With Lilia?* You stare at him, wide-eyed, your mouth hanging open in a most undignified manner. “I’m sorry, did you just—did you just suggest that I—me—should be with your father?!”

Silver nods, looking completely at peace with his assessment, like he’s just commented on the weather. “Yes. You two get along well. You make each other laugh, and he seems fond of you. And Father... well, he deserves someone who can make him smile like that.”

Your mind is racing at 100 miles per hour. “Silver. SILVER.” You clutch your head as if physically holding your brain together will stop it from spiraling into madness. “Do you have any idea what you just said?”

Silver, ever the calm and composed knight, merely tilts his head. “Was it something strange?”

“STRANGE?!” You’re flailing now, completely losing your cool. “You just casually suggested I should date your father! Who, may I remind you, is an ancient fae with enough power to casually toss me into another dimension if he wanted!”

Silver blinks, seeming to consider this for a moment. “I don’t think he’d toss you into another dimension. He’d probably just... laugh and then take you out to dinner.”

You’re having a full-blown existential crisis. Your face is bright red, your heart is doing somersaults, and you’re not sure if you want to scream, faint, or throw yourself into the nearest fountain.

Silver, meanwhile, is just sitting there, serene and utterly oblivious to the emotional chaos he’s just unleashed upon you. “Father’s a good person,” He says softly. “I think you two would be happy together.”

“I... I...” You sputter, trying to form words but utterly failing as images of Lilia’s teasing smile and playful banter run through your mind. And then you imagine the alternative: Lilia’s serious side, the one that is somehow even more terrifyingly attractive, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Oh no,” you whisper, clutching your chest. “Oh no, no, no... Silver, what have you done?”

Silver looks at you with concern now, finally noticing that you’re having what can only be described as a breakdown. “Are you alright?"

“NO!” you cry, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of him. “You’ve broken me! You’ve ruined me! I’m—Silver, your father is... He’s... and I... Oh, gods, this is too much. TOO MUCH!”

Silver watches you pace for a moment before quietly saying, “You’re thinking about it, though.”

You freeze mid-step. “I—NO! Maybe? Yes? I—Why would you say that, Silver?!”

He just smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Because it’s true.”

You slump back down beside him, groaning loudly as you cover your face with your hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Silver chuckles softly, resting his head back against the tree again. “I’ve heard that before.”

And as you sit there, your mind spinning with thoughts of Lilia and all the ridiculous, impossible implications Silver’s comment has brought to life, you can’t help but think that maybe—just *maybe*—he has a point.

But you’re not ready to admit that yet. Not even to yourself.

“I need a drink,” you mumble under your breath, and Silver hums in agreement.

“Father would probably help you make it,” he says, and you let out a loud groan, flopping onto the grass in dramatic defeat.

“Silver, you’re killing me.”

He just smiles that peaceful smile of his.

It’s a quiet afternoon, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the courtyard. You’re standing with Malleus and Sebek in one of the palace’s gardens, the tranquil hum of life around you contrasting with the more serious conversation that’s about to unfold. You can feel the weight of what Malleus is about to say, and your mind spins as you prepare yourself for another emotionally charged moment.

Malleus takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “For the longest time,” he begins, his voice soft and filled with an unspoken vulnerability, “I thought I would be stuck. Trapped in that cursed state forever. I had resigned myself to it, believing that it was my fate to be alone.”

You shift slightly, unsure how to respond to such raw honesty. Sebek, standing next to Malleus, is silent for once, his usual loud and defensive nature tempered by the gravity of his lord’s words.

“But then you came along,” Malleus continues, turning his glowing eyes toward you. “You broke the curse, something no one had been able to do. You gave me back my freedom, something I had lost hope of ever regaining.”

Sebek clears his throat loudly, his usual dramatic flair coming to the surface despite the tenderness of the moment. “Yes, well,” he says, voice gruff but tinged with the awkwardness of someone who isn’t quite used to expressing gratitude. “I... suppose we should be... grateful. After all, if it weren’t for you, Lord Malleus would still be... cursed, and we wouldn’t be here together as we are now.”

You blink at Sebek’s begrudging admission, feeling a small smile tug at your lips. The fact that he of all people is thanking you, even in such a roundabout way, is oddly touching.

“Wow, Sebek,” you say, voice teasing but soft. “Who knew you had it in you?”

Sebek bristles at your words, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “D-Don’t misunderstand!” he exclaims, face turning a shade redder than usual. “I’m merely stating the facts! Nothing more!”

Malleus chuckles softly at Sebek’s outburst, his usual gentle smile returning to his face. “Sebek’s gratitude, no matter how begrudging, is indeed a rarity,” he teases lightly before turning his attention back to you. “But truly, I am grateful. You’ve given me back more than just my freedom. You’ve given me back... this.”

He gestures around him, indicating the garden, the palace, the sky above. “This life, this chance to be with those I care about. And for that, I owe you a debt that I may never be able to repay.”

You shift awkwardly, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “I mean, I didn’t really set out to save anyone,” you admit, your voice light but with an edge of honesty. “I just... wanted the reward. And then maybe to go home.”

Sebek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Malleus holds up a hand, stopping him before he can launch into one of his dramatic tirades

You hesitate, glancing between Malleus and Sebek. “I didn’t think I’d get attached,” you admit quietly, your voice softening. “But I have. Somehow, I’ve found myself... caring about all of you. This weird little makeshift family.”

Sebek looks as though he’s about to protest the “weird” part, but a stern glance from Malleus keeps him quiet. You can see the begrudging acknowledgment in his eyes, though—he knows it’s true, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Malleus hums thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he speaks again. “Well,” he says casually, as if discussing something as simple as the weather, “if you’re so attached, perhaps we should make it official. Perhaps you should marry into the family."

You freeze. Did he just—?

You whip your head towards Malleus, completely flustered. “M-Marry?! What?!”

Sebek, on the other hand, looks as if someone just punched him in the face. His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, his eyes wide with outrage. “L-Lord Malleus, what are you suggesting?!” he sputters.

Malleus blinks, as calm as ever. “I’m suggesting marriage,” he repeats, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “If they are so attached to us, it seems a reasonable next step. Perhaps they should marry Lilia?”

Your face turns a bright shade of red as your heart pounds in your chest. “Wh-What?!” you stammer. “Lilia?!”

Sebek turns even redder, his face contorting in disbelief. “Master Lilia?!”

Malleus nods sagely, completely unfazed by both of your reactions. “Yes, Lilia. He has shown great affection for them, and they would fit well within our family. Would you not agree, Sebek?”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s an uncomfortable silence as he realizes… he can’t argue. He knows Malleus and Lilia both care about you. He knows that you’ve proven yourself to be a good person, despite his initial distrust. His mouth twitches, the words clearly struggling to escape his throat.

“I—well—Lord Malleus,” Sebek starts, looking every bit as if he’s been defeated by sheer logic. “I… I must admit… They are a suitable companion for Master Lilia… even if the idea of them marrying… well, it is quite… outrageous.”

You feel your soul leave your body as the conversation continues. Sebek can’t quite bring himself to fully agree, yet he doesn’t outright refuse the idea either. His loyalty to his lords binds him, and his begrudging acceptance of your presence has left him caught between duty and outrage.

“I—This—” you stammer, completely overwhelmed. “I—This is insane!”

Malleus looks at you with a calm smile. “Think it over,” he says, voice gentle. “You’ve already become part of our lives. Why not make it official?”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat as you see the sincerity in his eyes. This isn’t just a flippant suggestion—it’s Malleus genuinely offering you a place in his family. But the idea of marrying Lilia? That’s… that’s a whole new level of madness.

“I—I think I need to lie down,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your temples. “This is too much.”

Malleus chuckles softly, and even Sebek seems to relax—if only a little. But as you glance between the two of them, you can’t help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Even with all the absurdity, you know one thing for sure: you’ve found a place with them, whether you intended to or not.

The cat was just sitting there. Innocently perched on the branch, fluffy and regal like a tiny, judgmental king. You don’t even know what possessed you, really. Maybe it was those huge, adorable eyes or the way its tail flicked back and forth. But somehow, someway, you ended up halfway up a tree. Climbing a tree. For a cat.

“I just wanted to pet you,” you mutter, feeling slightly ridiculous as you hug the branch for dear life. “And now I’m stuck. Great.”

The cat stares at you, completely indifferent to your plight. You sigh, glancing down at the ground, which now seems alarmingly far away. Heights were never your thing, but in the moment, with that cute little furball teasing you, logic flew right out the window. Now, you’re clinging to the tree like a cowardly kitten yourself.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” you groan. The cat blinks at you. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault!”

And then, because fate has a terrible sense of humor, you hear a voice from below. A familiar, unmistakable voice—playful, with a hint of amusement laced through it.

“Well, well, what do we have here? It appears my dear little beastie has gotten themselves stuck.”

You nearly slip off the branch as you glance down to see Lilia standing at the base of the tree, arms crossed and an infuriatingly amused grin on his face. He looks every bit the mischievous fae, eyes twinkling with barely suppressed laughter.

“I—uh—this is—” You stammer, trying to come up with some kind of excuse, but nothing comes. You’re halfway up a tree. Because of a cat. No explanation is going to save your dignity now.

Lilia tilts his head, chuckling. “Were you planning on living up there from now on? Or should I assist you in returning to the ground?”

“Hey, don’t judge me!” you huff, cheeks burning. “The cat—look at the cat! It was really cute, okay?”

Lilia glances up at the feline, which is now licking its paw in complete disinterest. He raises an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, the cat. I see now. How could anyone resist such a noble creature?”

You groan, feeling your face get even hotter. “I—um—I might need help getting down.”

Lilia’s grin widens. “Of course, my dear. I was planning on catching you anyway.”

You freeze. “C-Catching me?”

“Mmhm. Just jump down, and I’ll catch you,” Lilia says, his tone so casual, as if catching people out of trees is just something he does every day. He spreads his arms out, waiting expectantly.

Your heart races as you eye the distance between the branch and the ground again. It’s not terribly high, but… still high enough to make you nervous. But Lilia’s standing there with that easy confidence, and the thought of staying stuck in this tree forever doesn’t exactly appeal to you either.

Taking a deep breath, you inch closer to the edge of the branch. “O-Okay. I’m going to jump.”

“Go ahead,” Lilia says, his voice soft. “I’ll catch you.”

With one last look at the disinterested cat, you finally push yourself off the branch. For a split second, there’s nothing but the rush of air—and then you feel yourself land securely in Lilia’s arms. You’re caught. Easily, gently. Like it was nothing at all.

He looks down at you, his face much closer than you anticipated. “See? I told you I would catch you.”

You’re breathless for a moment, your heart doing flips as you realize just how close you are to him. His arms are around you, holding you steady, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his clothes. He’s staring at you with that soft, amused smile, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of just how handsome he is.

“Oh no,” you whisper to yourself, “I’m swooning.”

Lilia raises an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“Y-You’re really smooth,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Like, catching me so easily and looking at me like that. It’s—it’s really unfair.”

He chuckles softly, clearly entertained by your flustered state. “Unfair, you say?”

“Yeah, like—like, you’re so effortlessly cool and charming, and I—” You freeze, suddenly realizing what you’re saying. You clamp your mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words are out, and your brain has completely short-circuited.

And then, before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out of you in a panicked rush. “Okay, I like you! No, wait—I think I’m in love with you! I mean, how could I not be? You’re so amazing, and I just—Oh god, I’m confessing! I’m confessing right now, aren’t I? This is a confession. Oh no, this is terrible. I didn’t mean to—”

You feel your entire body heat up as you bury your face in your hands, completely mortified. Of all the ways you could’ve confessed your feelings to Lilia, this had to be the worst possible way. You weren’t ready! You were supposed to be calm and collected, not blurting it out after getting caught in a tree!

For a moment, there’s silence. And then, you hear the softest chuckle from Lilia. His arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer.

“You’re adorable,” he says, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You peek through your fingers, confused. “Huh?”

“I’ve known for a while that your feelings for me were more than friendly,” Lilia continues, his smile gentle. “But hearing you confess like this… it’s endearing.”

You blink, trying to process his words. “Wait—you’ve known?”

Lilia nods. “You’re not as subtle as you think, my dear.”

You groan again, hiding your face in your hands once more. “This is so embarrassing…”

Lilia laughs softly, and before you know it, he leans in and presses a light, gentle kiss to your forehead. Your heart skips a beat, and you lower your hands, looking up at him in surprise.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Lilia says, his eyes soft. “I’m honored to be the one you’ve chosen.”

Your heart flutters as his words sink in, and you realize that, despite your mortification, he’s… accepting your feelings. He’s not teasing you or brushing it off—he’s genuinely acknowledging your confession. And more than that… he’s reciprocating.

“Lilia…” you whisper, your face still burning with embarrassment, but also with a warmth that you can’t quite describe.

He leans in a little closer, his nose brushing against yours. “You don’t need to say anything more, my dear. Just know that I feel the same.”

And with that, Lilia closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your heart race even faster. All thoughts of your earlier panic melt away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the feeling of being completely safe in his arms.

As he pulls back, you’re left staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless. Lilia smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection.

“So,” he says, his voice teasing, “was that worth climbing a tree for?”

You blink, still dazed from the kiss. “I… I think so.”

Lilia laughs softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the ground. “Next time, though, perhaps we’ll find a more dignified setting for your confessions, hmm?”

You groan, covering your face again as you mutter, “Please don’t remind me…”

But despite your embarrassment, you can’t help the small, giddy smile that creeps onto your face as you realize that, somehow, things turned out perfectly anyway.

You sit with Lilia on a bench beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the same one he caught you from, nerves simmering beneath your calm exterior. He’s as composed as ever, leaning back against the tree with a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

Across from you sit Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, all three watching you with varying degrees of curiosity—Malleus with calm interest, Silver with that sleepy, gentle acceptance, and Sebek with what you’re sure is the beginning of a tirade bubbling just beneath the surface.

“We have some news,” Lilia says, breaking the silence with his usual playful tone. His hand slips into yours, squeezing lightly. “About us.”

Malleus’s eyes light up with interest, his draconic gaze honing in on the subtle intertwining of your hands with Lilia’s. “News?” he repeats, leaning forward slightly. “What sort of news?”

You exchange a glance with Lilia, and he gives you a nod, as if to say go on, it’s safe. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and blurt out, “We’re together. Like, romantically.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Malleus’s eyes widen, his entire face brightening with delight. “Truly?” he asks, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face. “That is wonderful news! You will be joining the family then?”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by how happy he is. “Uh, well—eventually, I guess. We haven’t exactly planned a wedding yet…”

“But when we do,” Lilia interjects smoothly, eyes glinting with amusement, “you will be the first to receive an invitation, Malleus.”

Malleus beams, the delight practically radiating off him like sunlight. “I would expect no less. To witness your union—ah, it will be a grand day.”

Meanwhile, Silver gives you both a small, approving nod. His expression is calm, though there’s a softness in his eyes that shows he’s happy for you. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. “Father deserves someone who makes him happy. And you… you seem to do that.”

Your heart warms at the approval from Silver. “Thanks, Silver,” you say, offering him a smile in return.

And then there’s Sebek.

For a moment, he just stares at you and Lilia, his mouth working as if he’s trying to form words. You brace yourself for the inevitable protest, expecting him to shout something about how inappropriate it is, or how you could never be good enough for Lilia, or—

“You…” Sebek finally speaks, though his tone is less outraged than you anticipated. He scowls, but there’s an undeniable hint of reluctant acceptance in his eyes. “You’re together, then?”

Lilia nods, his smile never wavering. “Indeed, Sebek.”

Sebek inhales deeply, closing his eyes as if preparing for some kind of inner battle. You can almost hear him wrestling with his instincts, wanting to object but also unable to deny the truth of the situation. After a long pause, he finally exhales and mutters, “Well… I suppose… if it makes Master Lilia happy, then…”

You’re about to breathe a sigh of relief when Sebek opens his eyes again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “But that does not mean you should grow complacent! Just because Master Lilia has chosen you does not mean you are exempt from proving yourself worthy!”

Lilia laughs softly at Sebek’s stubbornness, and you can’t help but grin. “Of course, Sebek,” you say, teasing him lightly. “I’ll do my best to live up to your high standards.”

Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “See that you do.”

Despite his bluster, you can tell he’s not truly upset. There’s a begrudging acceptance in his stance, the same way someone might finally accept that their favorite hero isn’t perfect, but still worthy of respect. Sebek might not be able to fully wrap his head around the idea of you and Lilia being together, but deep down, you can tell he doesn’t disapprove. Not really.

Malleus, meanwhile, is still beaming. “I look forward to your wedding,” he says, sounding genuinely excited. “It will be a grand celebration. And I will be the first to celebrate your union.”

You laugh, finally feeling the tension melt away. “You’ll be the first to get an invitation, don’t worry.”

Lilia squeezes your hand again, his eyes warm as he looks at you. “Indeed,” he says softly, “and I think it will be a lovely celebration.”

As you sit there, surrounded by Lilia’s peculiar little family, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. For all their eccentricities—Malleus’s dragon-like mannerisms, Silver’s sleepy but sincere approval, and Sebek’s stubborn loyalty—you’ve somehow found yourself among people who care. Who, in their own ways, are happy to see you and Lilia together.

And as you glance at Lilia, who’s still watching you with that fond, amused expression, you realize something important: this makeshift family of fae and knights… they’ve accepted you.

Flaws and all.

The living room felt a little too tense for your taste today. You were sprawled out on a chair, arms crossed, listening to the absurd conversation that seemed to have spiraled out of control.

Malleus, sitting at the head of the table, had the "serious prince" expression that made you roll your eyes every time you saw it. Lilia was perched on the back of his chair, his legs dangling, thoroughly amused by the current predicament. Sebek stood in his usual soldier-like stance, ready to protect everyone from... squirrels, apparently. And Silver was doing his best to stay upright while leaning on a wall. He was losing that battle.

“It’s time to discuss the prophecy” Malleus said, his voice carrying an ominous weight you found ridiculous. “The Squirrel Plague will bring misfortune. Entire kingdoms will fall to their tiny paws.”

You blinked. “We’re seriously talking about squirrels?”

Lilia nodded with an overly grave face. “Indeed, my dear. Squirrels are resourceful creatures. Vicious even, if the stories are true.”

Sebek puffed up his chest, eyes blazing with his trademark fervor. “MY LORD, IF THOSE RODENTS BELIEVE THEY CAN THREATEN YOU—"

You leaned forward, waving your hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, let's not hype up the squirrels too much, okay? This whole situation is ridiculous.”

Silver, who had just about managed to pry his eyes open, muttered, “It’s not just the squirrels. I heard some people talking about... uh, the Saint being accused of spying or something.”

The room fell into silence for a second, everyone digesting that little bombshell.

Lilia’s grin widened as if the idea of spies delighted him. “Spies, you say? This is getting quite intriguing.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no thanks. Squirrels are bad enough, but spies? I’m not dealing with this.”

Malleus turned towards you, a slight frown on his lips. “I assumed you wished to stay here. You haven’t mentioned wanting to leave before.”

You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, I don't have any attachments to this place. I stayed because you guys were here. But right now, let's bounce. Immediately. The squirrels can have this place.”

Silver, rubbing his eyes, nodded. “They're right. It’s a lot of hassle, and honestly, the squirrels are starting to weird me out. I saw one trying to chew through the wall this morning.”

Sebek turned to Silver with his mouth agape. “A SQUIRREL DARED TO ATTACK OUR DOMAIN?!”

Lilia chuckled, nodding. “They’re getting bolder, indeed. I even had one throw an acorn at me this morning. It was a declaration of war, I tell you.”

You waved your hands at them. “Guys, seriously. I don’t care if we’re at war with the squirrels. I just don’t want to be here. Briar Valley sounds much nicer, doesn’t it? No plagues, no spy accusations, no rabid rodents.”

Malleus blinked at you, then slowly smiled. “If you wish to leave, then there’s no reason for us to stay. I thought perhaps you'd not want to leave the place you grew up in, that you would be attached.”

“Attached?” You gestured dramatically at the window, where you swore you could see a squirrel watching with beady little eyes. “Nope. I’m only attached to you four, and I’m not risking my life for some acorn-flinging rodents.”

Silver yawned, already giving in. “I say we go. Less hassle, more sleep.”

Lilia gave a theatrical sigh leaning on Malleus. “Well, I suppose the adventure ends here. Back to Briar Valley it is! And I’ll be sure to bring along some acorns... perhaps we can keep the spirit of battle alive.”

Sebek, his voice still full of misplaced enthusiasm, nodded fiercely. “IF MY LORD DECIDES TO RETURN, THEN I SHALL ENSURE OUR JOURNEY IS WITHOUT PERIL! THE SQUIRRELS SHALL NOT—”

You interrupted with a grin. “Yes, yes, Sebek. You’ll protect us from the squirrels. Good job.”

Lilia hopped off Malleus’s chair, already halfway to the door. “I’ll go prepare the portal. Who knows, maybe we can get there in time for the fireflies.”

You got up too, stretching and giving one last look at the living room. “I think I’ve had enough of prophecies, plagues, and espionage.”

Lilia grins "Maybe we could have our wedding in Briar Valley". Malleus, now entirely on board, nodded with regal finality. “Then we shall return to Briar Valley. I trust the squirrels will not miss us.”

Lilia snickered, and you felt him squeeze your shoulder. “Perhaps we should bring a souvenir,” he mused. “A squirrel, perhaps, as a reminder of this peculiar little chapter of our lives.”

You shook your head, laughing. “I think I’d rather forget it altogether.”

With that, you and your four favorite Briar Valley residents left—leaving behind the squirrels, the spies, and every bit of drama that had nothing to do with you. Peace, it turned out, was just a portal away.

With that, the group made their decision—no heroic stand against the prophecy, no attempts to sort out spy dramas. Just a swift, sensible retreat to where things were far less complicated. And honestly? That suited you just fine.

Alright! I liked writing this a lot, It's not as chaotic as my other isekai ones but I like how it turned out!

Also if the formatting is off, I'm so sorry but I fell spectacularly on my ass while ice-skating and can't sit long enough to edit on my laptop.

Also quick poll for the next trash novel one, I'll definitely finish all of them, this is just for which one should I post first. They're all almost done.

Series Masterlist ; My Masterlists

[millerscoffee]

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals.  It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it.  So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front.  He hands out papers, hovering by your desk.  Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down.  You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings.  “Shit,” you say to yourself.  That was it.  That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course.  You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling.  You failed.  Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind.  What were you to do?  How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it.  The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller.  Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes.  His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns.  He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve.  A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt.  Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him.  “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?”  Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl.  Proving not to judge a book by its cover.  The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff.  Predicates and imagery?  I’d rather be learning about biology.  But I need this course, you know.  And I…,” you swallow hard.  God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher.  He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,”  Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table.  He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms.  Keeps his distance.  “It happens, you know.  There are things we can do to accommodate.  You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail.  You have options.  I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final.  Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare.  You know the workload of this university.  Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?”  You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it.  The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help.  You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all.  I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though.  You’d have to come by my house…,”  he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course.  If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it.  You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did.  Though, that was neither here nor there.  His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing.  Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place.  But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay.  Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race.  Tonight?  Tonight?!  Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.”  How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively.  “Here’s my address.  7 o’clock.”

“Seven.  Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.”  His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat.  You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers.  It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar.  Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach.  It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home.  Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans.  His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted.  His stomach, soft at the bottom.  You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks.  You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too.  Charismatic as he invites you into his home.  Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks.  His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower.  What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home.  It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time.  His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures.  Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children.  He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right?  When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too.  Fuck, this feels so easy.  But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language.  He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that.  You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally.  Plump and ripe for the taking.  Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you.  What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression.  You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him.  And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen.  You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?”  When you take the water from him, your fingers graze.  The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind.  He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead.  The two lines between his brow.  “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table.  Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree.  You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop.  All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down.  You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster.  You dread it, you really do.  Going over your failures?  You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,”  Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift.  The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head.  “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought.  You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax.  Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself.  “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything.  See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.”  Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format.  This citation works for your research papers, right?”  He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day.  You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper.  “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs.  You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it?  You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly.  If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format.  Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting.  An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse.  You shift your gaze to look at him.  The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest.  The freckles that splayed over his aged skin.  “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement.  And a pointed one, it seems.  Someone to tell you what to do.  And Joel wanted to be that person?  Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it.  Maybe he did that just because this was his house.  That must’ve been it.  He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next.  He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either.  What?  I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart.  Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap.  You deserved better than that.  He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself.  He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes.  He felt for you.  And he was a bit lost in your eyes.  You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit.  Joel could see that.  He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted.  You threw him off without even trying.  The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise.  You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly.  “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay.  You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.”  He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.  The candor, the nerve.  A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were.  Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain.  They look soft, and… willing.  You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else.  You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming.  He���s not married?  You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this?  So close?  Backed by the glow of his house?  It was so different from the boys you were used to.  In their dorms or disgusting apartments.  It smelled as nice as it looked.  You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself.  You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster.  Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway.  I know I didn’t at that age.”

There.  The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?”  You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee.  Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers.  “Forty-six.  You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion.  How will this land?  What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa.  He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out.  Do you fake it?  Do you give it to them straight?  Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you?  N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you.  It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp.  But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge.  It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you.  Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone.  No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet.  He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day?  You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing.  Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans.  His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that.  All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things.  That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready.  His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing.  Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually.  He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination.  “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses.  Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does.  On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat.  You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this.  You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.”  Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request.  “I – what?”

“No?”  Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood.  It’s just, straddling his face?  Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?”  His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural.  But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school.  Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today.  He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you.  “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?”  You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place.  And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures.  His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor.  “Fuck,” you mutter.  This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does.  You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest.  Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand?  All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening.  “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.”  Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told.  Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart.  Then, it’s incredibly palpable.  His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him.  You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself.  There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too.  Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt.  “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks.  Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do.  Has so much to teach you, if you let him.  Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much.  Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him.  An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much.  It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt.  Delicious, deliberate.  Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was.  Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last.  Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you.  A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained.  “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly.  Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery.  Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips.  Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there.  Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you.  The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you.  Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too.  He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin.  Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally.  Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone.  Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar.  You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was.  Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly.  Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor.  His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons.  “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had.  You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm.  And everything else.

“You know what you did?”  Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand.  You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress.  “What was it?”  You ask, curiously.  Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you.  His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

 “Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance.  “What is it?”  You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him.  “No.  No.  I want to feel you.  It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that.  At how gone your brain is.  Here he was, thinking he was the only one.  “Okay, okay, darlin’.  I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion.  But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head.  You were everywhere.  His mouth, his glistening chest and beard.  He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation.  Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock.  “Such a needy little thing, now,”  it’s as if someone else is talking.  This isn’t the Professor Miller you know.  This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it.  “So fucking wet.  Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock.  Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it.  “Take my cock.”

And take, you do.  Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock.  Clenching around the head and he growls at that.  “You dirty thing.  This how you fuck all your teachers?”  It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you!  Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you.  It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him.  “Just me, show me then.  Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over.  Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once.  Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

 It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own.  The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else.  His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole.  You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected.  Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore.  “Fuck me, Joel!  Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?”  Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first.  Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this.  When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you.  How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now.  His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow.  The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on.  The way it sounds.  Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you.  Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake.  You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs.  Over your own stomach.  You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your.  His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it.  I know you can take it.  Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby.  That’s it, that’s good, darlin’.  Shh, easy.  Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat.  Come for me, I know you can be so good for me.  Good for – fuck – fuck.  Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit.  “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop.  Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come.  Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore.  You feel too good.  Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves.  “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!”  Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms.  You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out.  So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear.  He doesn’t want to any more than you do.  But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out.  Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you.  You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back.  But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle.  When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too.  He’s just as disheveled.  The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?”  He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender.  More playful.  More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.”  he’s finished enough for you to roll over.  You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop.  He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant.  “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow.  “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,”  Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now.  “You will pass by your own volition.  I meant it – you are bright.  You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.”  He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave.  And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.”  You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue.  Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

[female-hysterics]

Stormkobra-5 asked:

sets food down carefully* Fuck or die scenario, you say?!?!

Okay, picture THIS!!!

You and Steven have been been crushing on each other for MONTHS, okay??? And neither of you have made a move yet because you’re both Shy As Fuck™️ or smth, and you end up trapped in some ancient Greek tomb on a mission— my nerd brain is thinking of stories where stuff like this actually happened in some myths I can’t remember which ones atm but— after decoding the inscriptions on the temple that state the victims must either consummate OR get crushed by a ceiling of spikes that descends if they don’t within like an hour or two or smth 🙂🙂🙂 Indiana Jones style traps I guess XD

IDK I haven’t thought of any actual scenarios tbh just the PORN—

Alternatively, I offer you Steven trying an aphrodisiac and he turns into a total dom, and I’ll leave your imagination to run wild 😈😈😈

Oh jeez... 🥵 I honestly don't know which one I like better.....🥴

Dom Steven has my heart SO

Steven taking the aphrodisiac innocently, not realizing what it is, and by the time you do realize what it is he is gone. His eyes are both soft with adoration and burning with pure lust while his hands effortlessly strip you of your panties and yank your shirt and bra down enough to free your breasts.

"I just have to feel you, love. Let me just come inside your tight little cunt, take the edge off, yeah?, and then I'll fuck your throat like a good girl," he all but growls in your ear while bending you over his desk, sending a small tower of his books toppling over, and your head is spinning at his words and you are positively dripping for him.

He does exactly that, fucking you deep and hard until you are seeing stars until he spills inside you with a hurt sound deep in his chest, and then you are on your knees with his hands fisted in your hair and his cock buried in your throat while you drool and choke and moan his name. Steven seems to twist you in every position possible, even some that leave you flushing in embarrassment, but he is ravenous for you. His touch desperate, words filthy as he grunts them into your flesh, and you can't help but notice how hot his skin is. How his hands tremble against you, how his eyes are glazed, and this heart is fluttering like a hummingbird in his chest. You are worried for him, but with each orgasm he drags from you your brain become more and more fried.

Everything eventually becomes a blur at one point and you are lost in a sea of heat and euphoria. When you come back to reality you are a sticky naked mess, body limp and laying sideways on the destroyed bed with Steven curled up behind you, and you dimly realize that he was still holding himself inside you. His breathing was even, skin cooled down to a more reasonable temperature, and his heartbeat is a strong steady beat.

"Was a bit rough, wasn't I?" He suddenly whispered against your shoulder and your throat is raw as you try to croak out a response.

You feel him twitch inside you and then he slowly starts to roll his hips in slow sensual waves that make your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves up from where it was resting on your breast and curls around your throat gently, tilting your head back until you could pant against his open mouth, and you didn't even have the energy to grasp at his arms as his hips continued to snap against you deep and slow. He groaned against your lips.

"A little longer, love. Let me fill you just a little longer."

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Just then Eddie walks in, raising his brows at the veritable mountain of food Steve and Eleven are putting together. “What’s all this?”

Steve smiles warmly at him. “Hey, Eds,” he says, which is certainly an experience. He’s spoken roughly twice with the guy—in his memory—but Steve’s three chapters—nay, three books ahead. Eddie is Frodo, about to embark on his first journey, and Steve is Bilbo, or even Gandalf: someone who’s done this all before, whose eyes carry the weight of worlds.

Speaking of, Steve’s eyes dim slightly the longer Eddie takes to answer, so he waves his fingers at Steve, trying to ignore the swoop in his stomach when Steve’s smile brightens again. “So… what’s this?”

“Dinner,” Eleven answers. “We are making sandwiches.”

Eddie nods, because sure. Why not. “Okay.”

“How’s the song coming?” Steve asks, and the swoop returns, because not only is Steve asking, but he’s asking about Metallica, and Eddie’s gay, metal little heart can’t take it.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, grinning. “It’s so good, oh my god. I mean, it’s gonna take a bit to learn, but it’s gonna be the most metal solo I’ve ever done.”

Steve’s smile dims again. Probably because he’s remembering what happened last time, i.e., Eddie’s death. Eddie pushes down the queasy feeling.

“Eddie,” Eleven says.

“Yeah?”

She turns to face him. Her eyes are more serious than any twelve-year-old’s eyes have any right to be. “You will be okay,” she says. Then, apropos of nothing, “And I can move things with my mind.”

Eddie blinks at that. Apparently his face is doing something, because Steve chimes in. “She can.”

“I can show you,” she volunteers.

“Anything but the utensils,” Steve says in a distracted voice, like this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation. Eddie wants to laugh hysterically, or maybe cry. Smoking a joint seems like the best third option, except all his stuff is at home. Fuck.

Then she does, lifts a whole cutting board—complete with tomatoes— and moves it over to him. He resists the impulse to snatch a piece and eat it. He doesn’t even like tomatoes, what the fuck, brain.

Steve’s watching with an amused little smile, like he can somehow read Eddie’s mind. That legitimately wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen today, so Eddie does his best to stop thinking about it, because he doesn’t think he can deal with more than one real-life superpower right now.

“I need that back, El,” Steve murmurs, and she grins at him before zipping it back over, stopping it just before it hits his face. He nods, brows raised, impressed. “Nice control. Put it down and go wipe your nose, please.”

She does, Steve watching her as she goes, fond little grin on his face. “She’s a good kid.”

“She can move things with her mind.”

“Yeah. Honestly, that’s one of the easier things to get used to. Y’know one of the craziest things, to me?”

“Do I want to know?” Eddie asks hesitantly.

Steve just grins at him. “Jonathan Byers has this baseball bat that he sticks a bunch of nails in.”

Eddie blinks at him. “What the actual fuck.”

Steve nods. “I took it, sometime back during the first year. Actually,” he thinks about it, “what month are we in?”

“Um. October.”

Steve winces. “Great. October…”

“Um. Twenty-fourth.”

Steve hums and thinks. “In about… less than a week, actually, I think—I don’t really know, the concussion messed up my days—oh, hey!” He suddenly says excitedly, then raises his voice. “Rob!”

Robin pops her head in a moment later. “What’s up?”

He grins at her. “No concussions!”

She stares. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. “Holy shit!” She says. “No concussions!”

“No memory loss!”

“No hearing loss!”

“No eyesight problems!”

She freezes. “Steve. You were having vision issues?”

“Um. Not anymore?”

She groans. “Since when?”

“Um…” he thinks, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Billy, I think. At least that’s the first time I really noticed it.”

She sighs. “I’m going to murder you.”

“Are not.”

“In cold blood.”

“Are not.”

“Nancy’ll help.”

Steve considers this. “She might. She’d be good at it.”

They both pause for a moment, then Robin turns to leave. “I’m gonna go make sure Jon doesn’t give you a concussion this time.”

“Have him make the nail bat, too!” Steve calls as she leaves.

“What,” Eddie says desperately, “the fuck.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

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[lucajayms]

i sincerely apologize for the rant

pre bullets gerard plsplsplspls!!!! they have an office crush at cartoon network then she moves away without telling anyone and they replace her (CUBICLES BEST SONG EVER) so then he just keeps wondering what may have happened, until mcr are playing like in another city during revenge era then mikey sees her in the crowd before a show and he goes to gerard right before going onstage and its like hey gerard remember that girl you talked about 24/7 in 2001, shes here tonight. and gee just freaks out while trying to play down the whole performance becase hes scared she wont like the whole fake blood/gay/screaming thing. then they finish the performance and he goes to find her and shes like all happy bc she knew he was gonna do much better things than to work at a shitty office. and shes a big comic book artist and does really weid like blood and vampire stuff so shes so happy that gerard also does weird blood vampire stuff. and then theyre happy and then the umbrella academy happens and yea

yea youre free to ignore this, i just have too much free time to imagine shit like this 👍

HELP I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH!

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CUBICLES

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gerard way x reader she/her used use of y/n

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masterlist

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warnings: swearing!

-

"Maybe you could draw her more like this to bring out the background more so she's not just stiff," I instructed him. Gerard is a very talented artist, he just has a little bit of trouble deciding what to put where.

"But I feel like if she was a little different, due to her design, she'd go flat," Gerard argues, putting his pencil where he was describing.

I sigh as I place my hand delicately to my chin, trying to see what he's talking about. The deadline is soon and he's not done pitching these characters. "Honestly, Gerard? Whatever feels right. You'll get her."

"You sure?" He asks, seeking confirmation in my words.

I smile, nodding my head, "Yeah. Deadline is tomorrow, just do whatever feels right!" I say before I'm off to my cubicle to continue my project.

I knew he was looking at me. For weeks now, it had become a pattern—one I could almost draw if I could figure out how to capture that lingering gaze in ink. He thought he was subtle, keeping his distance and asking me barely relevant questions about some “project” or “character design” he’d been working on. Gerard was charming, though; there was no denying that. Quiet, a little too good at staring at his desk, and adorably oblivious to how easy it was to read him.

“Hey, uh, (Y/N)?” I looked up from my sketchbook, where I’d been mindlessly drawing a graveyard scene—something I had an odd fascination with lately. Gerard was standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, wearing that awkward half-smile that looked better on him than it should.

“Gerard,” I said, glancing up with a smirk. “To what do I owe the honor?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I…uh…just wanted to see what you were working on.”

I flipped my sketchbook shut, even though I knew he was dying to see what I’d been drawing. “Just some stuff. You’d probably think it’s too creepy.”

“Try me.”

Maybe it was because I wanted to test him, see how he’d react to what was under the surface, but I opened the book back up and turned it to face him. His eyes widened as he took in the vampires, blood, and dark cemeteries I’d sprawled across the pages.

“You…actually drew all of this?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my cool. “It’s not much. Just whatever’s in my head.”

He laughed, this soft, surprised sound. “Whatever’s in your head is amazing.” He paused, his eyes lingering a second too long.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair. “Well maybe not everything, Way.” I tossed my pen onto my desk, feigning nonchalance. “Can’t have too many weirdos like me around. Bad for the office’s reputation.”

And that's why I left.

Maybe I should’ve told him I was leaving. I hated the idea of going without a goodbye, but part of me figured I’d see him again. He’d get over it. Life had a way of carrying people in different directions, and honestly? I couldn’t stand the thought of another month behind that desk. I needed to be somewhere I could let these ideas out, somewhere that didn’t expect me to keep my weirdness behind a closed sketchbook.

The day I left, I watched the office fade from my rearview mirror, fingers tapping the steering wheel as a familiar guilt crept in. I didn’t leave him my number or my address or even a hint of where I’d gone. Some part of me hoped he’d figure it out. But after that, there was just silence.

Gerard

She left without a word. Just…gone. I tried to keep going like I didn’t notice, told myself it wasn’t a big deal. But the absence gnawed at me, creeping into every sketch and unfinished character. (Y/N) was gone, and I had no clue where she’d gone or why. I stopped asking questions after a while, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The thought became like an echo in my mind, constant and inescapable, pushing me to drown it out with anything I could find.

And I did.

One show after another, one drink, one line, whatever I could find to keep the silence at bay. The stage helped a little—at least there, I had the lights in my eyes and the noise blocking out the mess in my head. I’d stand in front of the crowd, hands dripping with fake blood, trying to exorcise whatever pieces of myself felt missing. But then the high would fade, and I’d be left in a dark room, trying to ignore the question that refused to die.

Where did she go?

I kept the band going, kept pretending it didn’t matter, kept letting the weight build. It wasn’t like I had any choice. The shows were packed, and the screams of the crowd felt like both a relief and a punishment. They had no idea. No idea that some days, it felt like I’d never get off this damn ride, that maybe I’d crash and burn right here. But something shifted in 2004. I couldn’t explain it—maybe it was seeing my friends’ faces or feeling the burn of another empty night. But I knew that if I kept going like this, I’d lose everything. I’d lose myself.

I finally made the decision to clean up, and in August 2004, I was clean. Free. My body hated me for it, and my brain wasn’t much friendlier, but I had to get clean. I couldn’t keep living on the edge of destruction. Every day after that, it felt like I was shedding pieces of the person I’d become just to survive. By the time I left, I was…well, I was alive. And that had to be enough.

It had been nearly a year since I’d gotten clean, and for the first time, it felt like I could really breathe on stage again. I could look out at the faces in the crowd and see them. Really see them, not just the blur of movement and lights I’d been numbing myself to. This was what I’d always wanted. This was where I wanted to be.

"MANHATTAN!" I scream into the mic and the crowd before more goes wild. "We are going to FUCK SOME SHIT UP TONIGH!"

And as I say that, Mikey plays the beginning of Give Em' Hell Kid. The set goes without hiccups, the crowd is perfect, and the most I've seen in a few weeks. Right as we leave the stage before the encore, Frank grabs me by my collar.

"Holy shit, Gee," He starts, and concern bubbles in my stomach. Did I do something wrong?

"What? What is it?"

He shakes his head vigorously, "I don't know if I'm tripping, but I swear to God I saw the girl you keep drawing in the crowd."

Fuck.

"What?!" I exclaim.

"Thirty seconds to encore!" One of the stagehands yells.

"Frank, where did you see her?" I ask, frantic. There's no possible way she could be here tonight. Why would she be here tonight.

"Our left, by the barricade. I think?" He explains, looking up to recount exactly where he saw her. My heart thuds against my ribcage as Frank’s words sink in, and I feel my throat tighten. (Y/N)? Here? After all these years?

"Ten seconds!" the stagehand yells, clapping his hands. Mikey shoots me a quick look, and Frank gives me a small, reassuring nod. There’s no time to think or even process—I’m barely holding onto the last traces of composure as we rush back on stage. I grab the mic, trying to get my focus back on the crowd, but every nerve in me is lit up, wondering if (Y/N) is really here tonight.

“MANHATTAN!” I shout again, forcing energy into my voice, hoping it’s enough to cover the wild surge of emotions that’s slamming through me. “YOU READY FOR ONE LAST ROUND?”

The crowd screams, and the band jumps into Helena, the encore I should be ready to pour my soul into. But all I can think about is her—her face, the way she used to sketch, her laugh. The lights are blinding, and I try to keep my focus on the crowd, but my eyes keep searching, desperate to find a glimpse of her. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but by the end of the song, I swear I see her—a flash of her hair, bright eyes, her face half-turned away in the crush of people, but unmistakably her.

The song ends, and we give a final shout before exiting the stage. As soon as we’re out of sight of the crowd, I turn to Frank, breathless.

“You’re absolutely sure it was her?” I ask, gripping his shoulder.

“Fuck, I don't know how accurate your drawings are,” he says, his voice serious. “Bit it was her, Gee. I’m sure of it.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe, running a hand through my hair as the adrenaline surges through me again. "Where do I even start looking?"

Frank raises an eyebrow. “I’d start by getting your ass back out there before she disappears again. You just finished the show. You’ve got maybe five minutes before the crowd starts spilling out.”

I don’t waste another second. I dart down the steps, half-running, half-pushing past crew members as I head toward the audience exit. It feels like the longest, most insane few minutes of my life, weaving through the backstage area until finally, I’m in the thick of the crowd, scanning every face I can. And then—I see her.

She’s lingering by the side of the barricade, glancing around, half-smiling to herself like she might leave at any moment. She’s a little older, a little different, but I’d know her anywhere. I take a deep breath, feeling my hands start to shake, and then I call out, loud enough to cut through the noise.

“(Y/N)!”

She turns, her eyes finding mine, and for a moment, it’s like everything around us goes still. Her face lights up, and I swear I feel that same electricity that ran between us in the office all those years ago.

"Oh my god, you guys did so good!" She laughed, too, shaking her head. “Gee, look at you! Rockstar Gerard. I always knew you’d end up doing something wild, but I never expected…” She gestured at my blood-stained shirt and smeared makeup. “This.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, heat creeping up my face. “Yeah, well, it’s, uh, a little different from Cartoon Network, that’s for sure. But I never thought I’d see you at a show.”

“Oh, please,” she grinned, giving me a playful nudge. “I knew you’d be doing something big. You were always too talented to be stuck behind a desk, remember?”

I laughed, surprised by the surge of relief that came with her words. “Guess it’s been a while since anyone told me that.”

She softened, and something flickered across her face. “I'm sorry I disappeared. I had to move, and things got in the way, and…” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged, a little awkwardly. “I never thought we’d run into each other again.”

“Same here,” I admitted, looking down. “But I’m glad we did. Even if it’s, uh…” I glanced at my blood-streaked hands, shaking my head. “Like this.”

She laughed, a bright, genuine sound, and I felt my nerves ease a little. “Honestly, I kind of love it. I’m doing comics, Gee. Lots of, you know…gory, bloody, vampire stuff. Seems like we’re both into weird stuff now.”

“Every time I go into a comicbook store, I look for your name.” I say, feeling a familiar spark of admiration light up in my chest.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, but her smile told me she was proud. “I kept drawing, kept pushing for it, and here we are. I got some stuff out that's been somewhat successful, but you—you’re the one really living the dream.”

It felt surreal, standing there with her, years and miles from where we’d left off. She was still (Y/N)—the girl who got me, who somehow saw through everything. But she was different, too. Confident, sharp, like she’d grown in ways I never got to see. And she was right here.

We fell into silence, the crowd thinning around us. Finally, I took a deep breath. “You know, after you left…I wasn’t great, to be honest.”

Her brow furrowed, and she gave me a sympathetic look. “I figured,” she said quietly. “It was a pretty messed-up time for both of us.”

I nodded, knowing she got it. “Yeah, I got pretty lost for a while. It took me…a lot to get back on track, but I’m good now. Clean, you know? And I’m just trying to keep my head on straight, one show at a time.”

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “Good,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “That’s what you deserve, Gerard. You don’t need anything dragging you down.”

I felt something click into place then—a kind of peace I hadn’t felt in years. “Thanks, (Y/N). Really.”

She grinned, glancing around like she was taking in the whole scene again. “Hey, I think we’re due for a major coffee catch-up. I want to hear everything.”

I chuckled, feeling that old sense of ease wash over me. “Deal,” I said, grinning back. “But only if you show me your sketchbooks. I wanna see all the vampire blood and gore.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You got it. Only fair, since I’ve got a feeling you’ve been drawing me for years anyway.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and together, we walked out into the night, talking like no time had passed at all. And this time, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

(Y/N)

What a fucking life. Leaving Gerard like that in 2001 did something to me, you know? Fucked me up. I felt really fucking bad.

But it's okay. We're good. And by good? I mean my boyfriend is the fucking lead singer of My Chemical Romance. Like, who gets to say that?!

After their final tour ended, Gerard was bugging me more and more about his comic that he was writing and that he desperately wanted me to illustrate for it. Apparently, he had been working on it for around three years, and he wasn't getting anywhere by himself.

"I don't know, baby. I got deadlines," I always say, but God, who could say know to that pretty face of his.

And so I finally agreed to illustrate The Umbrella Academy.

And boy, did that change my life.

[httpsryu]

kites : part 2

pairing : kim minji x fem! reader

summary: both you and minji both decide to run for class president in order to prove one another on who's the brightest but it also happens to be the exact time a certain someone decides that her silly heart beats for the other

category: enemies-to-lovers(ish?), high school au

genre: slow burn(?), fluff, and angst tiny amount or not

warnings: competitive and jealousy, kind of makes you feel single ;-;

a/n: be sure to check out p.1 of kites

minji clears her throat, sitting straight up in her desk as she tells herself that she doesn’t have a crush on you. 

yeah, she was just tired, that’s all. (no, it isn’t)

however, she didn’t get any sleep at all last night because even though minji wanted to rest, her tired brain decides to think about you and your dumb smile. that already speaks a pretty high medium. 

“bro! bro! bro!” hanni runs in the class, panting as she sits down in her seat. 

the other hums in response. 

“shin yuna confessed to y/n out this morning!” hanni shockingly exclaims. 

what? 

shin yuna, otherwise known as the school’s breadwinner for soccer, floor ball, and volleyball. 

the whole female and male population would kill to even have the talented athlete look their way. and honestly, it’s no surprise if you accept her confession because yuna always gets everything she wants. 

but why would yuna confess to you?

for all minji recalled, she’s never seen you hangout with the year 4 student. 

but then again, who wouldn’t confess to you? 

you were always hardworking, never letting anyone take advantage of you when it came to your education, and you viewed every assignment as an opportunity to grow. 

you’re pretty too. especially when your hair is half-up and half-down, framing your face beautifully. or when you come to school with glasses that’s a tad big for your face but nonetheless, everyone still finds you adorable. at least, minji does. 

minji shrugs, trying to look disinterested in the topic of you. “and you’re telling me this why?” 

“it was romantic, bro!” hanni clasps her hands together, leaning her cheek on them as she remembers the way everyone was screaming at the interaction this morning. 

“yeah? how romantic?” minji asks, knowing the chokehold romance has on people. 

especially you. 

“well, yuna walked up towards her at her cube box and handed her a letter with a small bouquet of roses.” the other replies, smiling again. “she also gave y/n her letterman as a form of respect.” 

minji wanted to laugh. you dislike roses, you’ve always preferred lavenders and orchids more. you weren’t a big fan of letters either because you’ll just end up giving them back graded. 

“and apparently, she accepted.” 

“oh.” 

at the mentioning of one’s name, y/n walks in, linked arm-to-arm with rei. 

however, the only thing that minji’s eyes landed on was the letterman bunched in your hands. 

she observes the way you place your books down first before sitting, observing the way you let go of your best friend’s arm once you realize class is about to start. 

“i can’t believe yuna went for it! look at me playing matchmaker!” 

at hanni’s words, minji turns towards the other. 

“w-why are you looking at me like that?” “minji?” 

what minji didn’t observe was the way you subtly sneaked in a glance at her. 

“why do i have to be there to help you with the campaign again?” wonyoung whines, barely being able to see with two bins full of poster papers, markers, and other fun stuff in her arms. 

you laugh, tip toeing to pat your best friend on the head. “oh my sweet wonyoung, did i tell you that yujin is also going to be in the art room as well?” 

“oh hail y/n.” wonyoung smiles while she tries her best to place a kiss on your cheek. “thank you! thank you! i love you!” 

you screech, backing away as she comes closer to you. 

“come onn~ you know you want a kissy from wony.” the taller teases. 

shaking your head at your best friend’s antics while laughing, you didn’t seem to realize that you two were still in the hallways where many students are on their way towards walking home. 

feeling the back of your shoes bumping into something, you suddenly lose balance and gasp at the feeling of falling. wonyoung’s eyes widens as she drops the bins, her arm reaching out to catch you. however, it’s too late as someone else holds you from behind, their arm securing around your waist. 

wonyoung gasps, seeing the hero of the day as she puts her hand over her mouth to contain her squeal.

it's finally happening.

"i got you." the voice from behind gently says, her hold still on you.

you're taking in everything all at once. from almost falling to your death, seeing your best friend's failed attempt at reaching out for you, and being caught in the arms of the girl you despise the most.

"y/n?" minji asks, trying her best to sound gentle in order to not startle you.

you rush from releasing yourself out from her hold, turning around to face her. "thanks, kim..."

avoiding the stare from her, you gaze down at the girl's shoes, which has a scuff on from you. you feel your cheeks heating up at the mere thought of being clumsy in front of her.

minji feels as if someone punched her in the stomach, speechless from the way you look so cute in front of her. "oh. i-it's whatever."

"i'm sorry about your shoes." you look up, trying to ignore the way her stare suddenly makes you feel.

the taller shakes her head, letting out a half smile (she's trying to playing it cool). "it's okay, y/n."

"cool." you respond, gasping once you suddenly remembering about wonyoung and the dropped bins.

minji takes notice of your concerned face, placing a hold on your shoulder to relax you. "everything okay?"

"yeah, it's just wonyoung was holding the bins and-" you turn around to find no wonyoung but only the dropped bins.

oh, fuck her.

"looks like she left you here to clean up by yourself." minji looks down at the bins as well, walking over towards them and kneeling to pick up the dropped materials. "i can help lend a hand if you don't mind?"

minji is different from the image you always had of her.

maybe because today she isn't glaring or staring directly at you like she hates your guts. she's actually taking time out of her day to help you...

without realizing it, you let out a nod, while you too, kneel besides her to pick up the materials off of the ground.

you don't notice but minji sneaks a subtle, quick glance at you, the suffocating air makes her realize that maybe this is more than a sudden attraction to you.

she gasps silently at how obvious she was looking at you, panicking as she starts to grab whatever off of the floor. accidentally, touching your hand while you went for the same marker as well.

"oh! sorry!" minji pulls her hand back, wanting to hit herself for the stupidity.

you let out a small shrug.

minji glances down at her watch.

5:45 pm.

that was the exact time when minji finally realized she definitely and surely does have a crush on you.

with a heavy inhale, minji holds her breath before stepping into her homeroom teacher's office.

"oh! minji, what could i help you with at this time?" the mid-twenties woman looks up from her clipboard with a cheerful smile.

minji bows at her teacher, fidgeting with her hands while trying to come up with a way to break the news. "i-umm..i want to forfeit out of the class election."

"but it ends tomorrow, minji-ah."

"that fast?"

the woman nods slowly, understanding the sudden pressure that the students are developing from the race. "the rules was two days maximum to get a good campaign running, along with a speech."

"and i won't be able to forfeit? i haven't started anything yet."

"i'm afraid it's too late, the only ones running are you, y/n, and jungwon. it's only fair to have three instead of two."

curse ms. ahn (not literally though).

the female student disappointedly nods before once again bowing. "i understand. thank you for informing me."

ms. ahn smiles apologetically, waving bye at the student.

welp, there goes minji's plans now.

the said girl sighs, disappointed with how she couldn't forfeit running for class president. she leans against the wall, sliding slowly to the floor slowly while groaning in frustration.

"woah, what's going on with you?" a voice distracts her from her thoughts.

looking up, the girl is faced with all four of her best friends.

minji slightly frowns. "i'm not allowed to drop out from running for class president, bro."

"wait-drop out?" hanni exclaims. "but i thought you always wanted to be class president?"

the older shrugs. "I only wanted to be class president because i thought only the smartest person could won, which would prove i'm a lot smarter than y/n."

"uh huh...?"

haerin quietly observes the way minji's facial expressions appeared upon saying your name. and the cat eyed female wonders why minji is deciding to throw away her lifelong dream of being class president because of you.

until, it hits haerin at the fact that minji could be hopelessly and stupidly in love with you.

"but now, i realized it's stupid and that y/n definitely deserves it more than me, the title of being number one." minji sadly says, looking down at her shoes and a smiles upon her mouth at the scuff on her left shoe, precisely. "she's so hardworking and determine, ever since we were young. and we could've been great friends but i ruined it first."

friends, huh?

that was the biggest lie minji has ever said. she wants to be more than friends with you. but, everything is too late. minji feels like she's one second behind.

"well, if anything could help, how about you help out with y/n's campaign instead? you know..like secretly?" danielle suggests, hoping her best friend head lifts up slowly. "she's been struggling on coming up with an idea for her posters."

increase the chances of you winning? why didn't minji think of that earlier?

"oh my gosh, wait! that's a genius idea!"

"wow, you're so smart." hanni looks over at the other australian.

danielle nods with happiness, her smile bright as the sun while haerin softly lets out a hum at how pretty her girlfriend is.

minji quietly sighs while looking at the two.

it's not unusual for others to come talk to you, however, it's not common either.

all morning, everyone you passed by or made eye contact with stopped you to ask about why you rejected yuna.

"geez, they really need to stop bombarding you with this subject." wonyoung rolls her eyes.

you nod in agreement.

"omg, i heard from others that they saw minji hanging up campaign posters and they looked amazing." a passing student gossips with her friend, earning your attention. "i won't be surprised if she wins for her class."

WHAT?

stopping in the middle of your tracks, frightening your best friend besides you, you gasp.

"MY POSTERS!" releasing yourself from wonyoung's grip, you panic before making a run towards the art room to print out the posters you came up with yesterday.

wonyoung stares at your back, shaking her head in disbelief at how you always do things last minute and manages to perfect your grade.

the only thing on your mind while sprinting full speed was ways to gather more attention on your campaign instead of your arch nemesis's campaign.

upon seeing the room, you slow down a bit.

"oh! y/n, what are you doing here? i thought you already printed out your posters?" seeun brightly asks, running into you at the entrance. "they look amazing by the way!"

posters? huh?

"what do you mean? i haven't printed out any posters yet.." you tilt your head to the side gently, leaving the upperclassman in awed and she clearly understands why her friend, yuna is having a rough start to her day.

seeun purses her lips out, remembering clearly what minji told her. "really? minji told me that you asked her to print your posters out first thing in the morning."

kim minji.

"oh. i guess i did." you reply with a strange tone. "i'm going to get going then! bye seeun-sunbae!"

and before the older could bid your goodbye, you were already off.

"that kid." she giggles at your antics before returning on refilling the printers with paper.

minji didn't expect to find you standing in front of her desk to say the least, yet here you stood in front of her with evident anger from your expression. she amusedly crosses her arm, eyeing you from head-to-toe with a strange glint in her eyes.

"bro, you're in my view." minji tsks with her tongue.

"b-bro?" you're honestly appalled she has the audacity to call you bro when she tampered with your campaign posters. "you think you're allowed to sit in your seat right now?"

the older girl raises her brow in confusion. "excuse me?"

"why did you print out posters for me?" you ask with anxiety suddenly flooding over you. "is this one of your sick games, minji?"

minji stares blankly at you, trying to process everything that happened between the both of you. "i-i didn't mean to mess with anything."

"you wanted to prove you're smarter than me that bad, huh? you're always going to be the same kim minji since primary school."

minji opens her mouth to say something, however, you start walking away from her desk. hearing you mumble something along the lines of "i need to transfer".

"bro, what just happened?" hanni asks besides her. "i thought you made and hung up posters for her?"

the other watches your back leave with a sad expression.

"i did."

what went wrong? minji swore she made sure no one else was in the school when she hung up the posters in fear of others switching up actions or hence making up rumors.

"i need to go!" the female stands out of her seat, ready to follow after you.

of course, time is the enemy for kim minji because the bell's tone rings throughout the school indicating that school is now starting.

"good morning class!"

what about you, though?

you glance down at the view of seoul from the school's rooftop, closing your eyes in the process as the wind gently blows across. inhaling the air and exhaling shortly afterwards.

opening your eyes, you lean against the railing while you couldn't help but to think about the other student; kim minji.

you assumed the unspoken rivalry between the both of you has gotten squashed but the other assumed something else.

it's always been like that since primary school so why does it bother you so much?

"i knew i could find you here." a voice appears and immediately you roll your eyes from irritation and anger starting to form inside of you.

the person sighs, not hearing a response from you.

"y/n...i never meant to tamper with anything, i care about you way too much to do that."

you budge a little, still not believing her words. why should you?

"i-i'm still not sure how to tackle this." minji says from behind, her footsteps coming closer from behind. "especially because someone else is interested in you."

you furrow your brows from the other's words.

"what are you talking about, kim?" turning around to face her, however, before you can take the chance to see her, you space out once you feel a pair of lips against yours.

this kiss, you're confused on if it's actually happening. once or twice, you've wondered what it'd be like kissing kim minji - everything is all slow and soft and it's all like a dream however, you reciprocate the kiss.

getting pulled back in reality when you feel a strong hold finding your waist, you can't help but to snake your arms around her neck. you notice the way minji's kissing turns to a change of going faster and deeper, a bit desperate to say the least.

but in a flash, the warmth between your lips leaves. minji gasps, taking quite a few steps back away from you.

"fuck. i-i don't know what came over me. i shouldn't have done that." she says, looking down at her scuffed shoes.

"what?" you ask in a whisper tone-like voice.

minji closes her eyes, wanting to hit herself. "i'm sorry."

for some strange reason, you feel tears welling up in your eyes. humiliation becoming your strong opponent and you too look down at the ground.

"i think i should head back." minji sighs to herself, feeling like the worse person right now.

before you could respond to her, the older is out in a scurry.

watching the emptiness in front of you, you couldn't help but to touch your lips with your fingertips and feeling the other's touch still lingering.

minji rushes towards to the canteen, her heart still beating very loudly to focus on anything, her face definitely flushed as she can't stop shaking from nervousness and guilt as well.

"fuck. fuck. fuck." she mutters, biting on her thumb while she walks towards the lunch table where her friends are sitting, ready to dive into their food.

hanni tilts her head slightly, wondering why minji took long to use the restroom. "bro, you okay?"

"yeah." the other replies while taking her seat, wincing at the way she sounded a little too harsh. "sorry."

the australian shrugs to the others before she opens up the lunch that her mother packed for her.

haerin notices the way the oldest isn't touching any of her lunch, her leg constantly bouncing up and down from some sort of anxiousness feeling. she also observes on how minji's face has a slight and faint flush to it.

what the hell happened in that restroom? (if minji even went in the first place).

"rin? everything alright?" danielle asks upon seating besides the kitty-eyed female.

haerin lets out a hum in response, scooting closer to her girlfriend and resting her chin on the other's shoulder.

"have any of you seen y/n yet?" wonyoung places her lunch tray on the table, along with rei and jiwon.

minji tenses up at the your name.

"she left home room since school started." hanni replies, concern glowing down on her face. "why? is everything alright?"

rei pouts, shaking her head. "she isn't answering any of our calls."

"today is her favorite lunch menu too." jiwon softly sighs, looking down at the food for today with a sad look.

wonyoung constantly stares at the canteen's doors from her seat, scanning for the sight of you. "i'm sure she'll come around. y/n never vanishes on us like that out of nowhere."

minji couldn't bare to make a noise.

for the second time in a row, lunch doesn't taste as good because you weren't there and minji knows that it's all because of her.

as all the students gather in home room for the announcement of the winners, minji stares at the door of the room. her eyes doesn't budge, manifesting for your figure to walk through.

"still no sign of your girlfriend yet?" hanni teases, wondering why minji is so concerned of her so-called rival.

"shut up."

the universe must be in the favor of the female because at the exact moment, you appear right in front of her eyes.

but..why do you look upset?

"oh. she doesn't look too well." the vietnamese-australian purses her bottom lip out in sadness at your expression. "maybe because the others won't stop pestering her about rejecting yuna."

YOU DID WHAT?

"rejecting yuna?" minji asks, looking at the back of your pretty head.

hanni nods, her eyes lighting up at the gossip. "it happened yesterday at the softball field."

why would you reject yuna?

a small hope in minji's heart yearned at the possibility that maybe you reciprocated the same feelings as her but another part of minji's heart is telling her that you probably like someone else.

however, after all, you did kiss her back.

that has to mean something, right? RIGHT?

"oh my gosh, where were you? we were looking for you." rei exclaims, hand over her chest as if all her worries finally floated away and relief took over. "jiwon was so close to filing a missing person report but wonyoung managed to convince her not to."

you let out a small laugh at how your best friends are, letting out a squeal the second rei wraps her arms around you and placing small friendly kisses on your head.

"i swear if jungwon gets vice president and not you, i will genuinely throw a tantrum." hanni comments, looking at the way the male student is running around with his banner wrapped around him like a cape.

minji besides her lets out an uninterested hum, squinting with her eyes at the sight of you and rei getting a little too comfty.

"welcome back from lunch, class!" ms.ahn barges through with a bright grin and a clipboard. "who's ready for three awesome students with their three amazing speeches they wrote?"

after jungwon finished up his speech, claps floods the room and whistles from his friends are echoing throughout. "thank you everyone!"

"that was wonderful, i'd believe up next we have y/n." ms. ahn's direction trails over to you.

you're not sure why but in this exact moment, you feel like you're suddenly sweating gallons and gallons and your heart is pounding like crazy at the sight of seeing all your peers looking at you in anticipation. it feels as if someone wrapped a hand around your stomach and you didn't like that.

somehow, you want to win. not to prove to minji that you're obviously the smarter one but the feeling of winning and being the student to where others ask for help makes you want to win. so bad.

minji notices the way blood is drained away from your pretty face, she takes a glance down at your feet tapping rapidly against the glossed floor.

"y/n? are you okay?" she gently whispers, one of her hand ready to grasp ahold of yours.

you bring your hand away from within her reach, giving her a glare before walking up to the "podium" to do your speech.

minji feels a part of her chest shattering at your action but she knows she probably deserves that. especially, after kissing you and escaping before you, yourself could say anything.

besides, she kissed you without your permission.

"hi, homeroom G-32. ummm-i'm sure everyone knows who i am, haha. to tell the truth, i'm only running for president because i wanted to prove to someone over a childish banter but also while preparing for this speech, i learned that i suddenly want to be the type of person who is willing to sacrifice their own being for their fellow schoolmates." you look up and let out a small smile at the way you gained their attention. "i can't promise you all anything when it comes to pizza for lunch nor getting extended due dates for papers the way jungwon did. however, i can promise you with the fact that i will succeed in the rest of this school year an unforgettable one."

minji couldn't help but to softly and proudly smile at you.

"y/n, that was amazing." ms. ahn says in awed. "last but not least, minji."

you let out a bow, walking back to the spot where you stood previously. you feel a certain pair of eyes on you, to which you ignore with your head held up high.

"hello everyone, it's minji. i didn't prepare anything, oops." the other girl giggles to herself, her smile looking too mesmerizing to you. "and to be honest, i did try to forfeit out of running."

what?

scattered gasps are heard throughout the room, leaving the teacher to shush them and for minji to proceed.

"i know, shocking, huh?" minji understands why the others are surprised, she has always been evident of running for president ever since she was a child so where is all of this coming from now? "if you guys haven't know, a certain someone and i have been in this ongoing rivalry..on who's the smartest. i'm sure you all know who it is..and honestly, all throughout my years, i felt the need to show them that i was the most brightest one. i honestly don't know why either. and i guess that's why i always wanted to run for president, just so i can 1up her."

"i'm not up here to win for anyone's votes, i'm up here to let you all know that kang y/n is a wonderful, responsible, beautiful, and reliable human being that would make an amazing president for this homeroom. thank you." minji bows at the class.

what the fuck?

if anyone needs any pity votes, it should as hell should be jungwon and not you.

"well minji, i am surprised by your speech." ms.ahn says, finally understanding the reason the student wanted to forfeit as she takes notice of minji's gleaming eyes when you look at her. "okay class, now on the piece of paper i've handed out, please write down your vote."

that feeling is coming back into your stomach and suddenly you feel a drip of sweat running down your forehead from the hot air surrounding you.

"y/n?" the voice you strongly dislike asks in a whisper.

you want to ignore her, but you can't.

looking up from the ground, you're met with the older's eyes staring down at you with a weird look in her eyes.

"are you nervous?" minji takes notice of the way you're slightly trembling from either the air or because you're anxious of the sudden quietness in the room while the class votes for best pick.

before you could answer her with a nod, the back of her hand is already reaching to dab the sweat away with the sleeve of her uniform.

"t-thanks..."

minji smiles softly at you, not missing the way there was a kite softly flying out the classroom's window.

cliffhanger :P

update! pt. 3 is out as well! you can find it on my master list :)

[pdpenpals]

Hiii could I get a love letter from pdh!vylad.

For context he’s sending it to his gf/ reader who he’s away from at the moment because he’s on vacation with his family and lost his phone or just wanted to write her a personal physical letter so it would never get lost in there text. She/her pronouns please.

hey, nonnie! this prompt’s pretty lovely, actually. i’ve always wanted to write to friends (and i suppose those who’ve set my heart ablaze) while traveling myself, letting them know what i’m thinking of, feeling, and seeing in the moment, but they all just end up as messages unsent that i hoard under my bed like a dragon, haha!

anyway, i’m hoping you find that this delivery does this ro’meave justice. i’ll be honest with you, i had the most fun making the envelope header accompanying this request. enjoy!

what promises to be a boring day is immediately taken back when the mailman pops up at your doorstep unexpectedly. he usually never shows up unless there are bills to be paid. the envelope looks and smells pretty old, but the date listed on its back indicates it was clearly made in the last week at the very least. a smile creeps onto your face when you recognize the handwriting, and you waste no time opening it up when you’re in the privacy of your own room, careful not to damage the stamp sealing it. it’s way too pretty to break, and you want to keep it.

not only is there a letter inside, but three laminated bookmarks. they contain real pressed flowers against a painted background. it’s a bit reminiscent of some art movement vylad mentioned before. art nouveau, was it? just like the rest of the materials used to make this letter, it appears to be pretty…antique. not that it’s a bad thing! it feels just like receiving a little time capsule, a blast from the past if you will. 

but irene above, the more time you spend not reading, the more you miss him. you carefully unfold the paper and let your eyes glaze over the paper.

Hey! 

Missed y (too desperate? hope you don't mind.)

Hope this reaches you as soon as it can. Did all the bookmarks make it in one piece? Do you like them? I’ve looked high and low through some pretty old catalogs to see where they came from and how much they sold for, but it would seem that they’re all individually handpainted and hand-pressed, therefore one of a kind.

I’m still quite bummed that I didn’t get a choice between going here or not during break. It was all so last minute! But I’ll be honest: O’Khasis is much prettier than I remember. What isn’t pretty is that Aunt Tilly (apparently she’s not our actual aunt? I guess we’re just used to calling her that.) absolutely insists that the place we spend our vacation at just happens to have no signal. Before, I absolutely wouldn’t have minded as there’s so much to do around here, but I can’t help but lie awake at night with the guilt eating at me thinking about how your messages must not be reaching my inbox. I’m sorry for not finding a way sooner. If anything, I didn’t quite expect the way this letter would find its way to you.

One thing you need to know is that up until yesterday, Aunt Tilly did not like me. At all. It kind of broke my heart a little as a kid because I didn’t know why. Now I can name a few reasons, but that’s not really what’s important right now. As usual, she would come with boxes full of stuff that she brought home from where she’s based abroad and let us pick what we wanted. There were a few old books and vintage clothes that interested me, but what caught my eye the most were the pressed flower bookmarks you got in this very envelope. And that’s just a fraction of them! You’d be amazed to see how many of them are in the collection.

Anyway, Aunt Tilly seemed reluctant to give them to me, even surprised to see that they were in the box in the first place. But ever since that, she’s warmed up to me, and it’s honestly much more terrifying than the times she’s barely acknowledged me. I should be upfront about it and ask her why soon. I suppose now should be the time to say that she even helped me pick out which flowers would be on the bookmarks I sent you. Says I should treat it like I’m actually picking out a bouquet or something. That woman takes her flowers seriously. At least now she knows she isn’t the only one in the family with an interest in floriography. She seemed even more delighted learning this letter was for a special someone, so she talked Mom and Dad into letting me have a few hours to myself in the town nearby just to have this letter delivered. I’m grateful to get a bonding experience with her out of this, but I really need to figure out what brought on this sudden change. Will definitely update you about it in another letter. This is quite fun, actually. Writing to you, pen on paper, feels way more personal, don’t you think?

Back to the bookmarks though, I’m not sure if you can read the text on them, but if I had to pick out a bouquet for you right now, I’d choose these three. Imagine the following with me now, will you? White clovers, balsamine, and pale red carnations. I don’t trust the Internet at the moment to be able to give you the exact message I want to convey, and I think it’s something better said in person. 

I promise I’ll make things up to you when I get back soon. A date maybe? Please write back soon. I’d love to hear your thoughts.  

Yours evermore, V.R.

PS. In the future, we should definitely go on a proper sightseeing trip around O’Khasis. Just you and me. How does that sound? 

[saneabandoned]

Diving into Star Wars: The Clone Wars

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

This seems to encapsulate the whole seven seasons of the series Star Wars: The Clone Wars. If you haven’t seen it, haven’t heard of it – in short, it’s an animated series set between Episode II and III of the prequel saga. However, the aim of this is not to be a guide – you can go to Wookiepedia for that; this is supposed to be an essay – analysis, some kind of a deeper-ish dive into the philosophy and meaning of the series, that frankly is one of the best things to happen to this film universe, perhaps ever. I have, time and again, tried to explain for myself the meaning it carries and just why it has me in such a strong chokehold, but I have failed, or at least haven’t reached a conclusion. Maybe it’s not possible, maybe it’s just the magic of being a fan – you see and feel things not everyone would understand, because it speaks to you on some personal level, that even some (more chill than me, at least) fans won’t be able to entirely relate to. I have yet to meet a person as obsessive as I am over all kinds of different media – don’t get me wrong, even though Star Wars is without a doubt my favourite universe, there are many more I have indulged in, wrote about, watched, listened, theorized and all that good stuff throughout many years. But as I have recently come to realize, I have spent the last ten-ish years of my (not that long, to be fair) conscious life thinking about this universe, this whole galaxy (pun absolutely intended) of characters, morals, and plots.

Speaking about morals, that’s where some of the importance of The Clone Wars comes for me personally. Ever since I can remember, Star Wars has been a huge deal in my life – I watched the movies at a very young age (thanks, mom!), but started reading more and more into the whole world as I got older. I thought I’d reached the peak somewhere in high school when I would literally rewatch the prequels every single weekend, and the OG movies about once a month too. I just found it mesmerising, I always have – being a person with a huge imagination, that never quite stops working (and that’s caused me some trouble as well), I found a haven in this world, a place where nothing is too weird, everything is just so brilliantly imagined and thought of, written and painted so vividly, that it feels like someone has taken the insides of my brain, turned them into a whole painting, adding stories, characters and just overall putting into words and pictures the things that I can’t really understand and explain for myself. I found a mirror in this world, a sanctuary for all my thoughts. I used to listen to the soundtracks whenever I felt anxious, and it would transport me directly into the universe I felt so safe in. It was an escape from reality; still is – not that reality was or is particularly scary or unbearable for me; but sometimes I wish I was elsewhere; somewhere where there is courage, bravery, adventure, love, all the things I longed for while being quite honestly, mostly a bored teenager at school.

I have always loved writing, loved expressing my thoughts, putting them into words (as is becoming obvious by this text) and have always greatly appreciated when films, books or other media would reciprocate that – when the words on the screen or the page would feel like I wrote them myself, so true, so real, so incredibly close to me, that I would get literal shivers and wonder if telepathy is actually possible. But hey, that’s The Force for you!

As of now, I have just finished completely rewatching the whole Clone Wars series and as always, I have many thoughts on it. The first time I watched it was right after the final season came out because at that time, and especially during the pandemic, I was going deeper than ever into my interests, rewatching all my favourite things, while also searching for new ones to keep me from going absolutely insane (I think I maybe have succeeded in the opposite though). So, stumbling across this series, I thought I’d give it a try. The rest is history – after absolutely and hungrily devouring it, I continued to Rebels, and every other possible piece of media under the sun. Fabulous times.

Now, one thing I’d like to make clear – I’m not a pro. I am not in any way a certified critic, a writer, or any other sort of person authorised to make such an analysis. I am but a fan, a fan for whom this universe means more than I could ever hope to be able to put into words; a fan who after years of contemplation, has reached a point where I can’t keep it inside any longer. I’d love if this piece of writing makes it out in the universe, reaches as many people who enjoy Star Wars as much as I do, but even if not, I am writing it for myself, I am trying to step out of my comfort zone, reach deep into myself, and in a life of struggling with the loudness of my thoughts, trying to put something down, manifesting my emotions and creating something physical from them; these characters that mean so much to me will never be real, I can never hope to speak to them, touch them, or see them in real life. They have although shaped me as a person and largely formed my psyche and morals, view of the world, inner monologue, even some of my characteristics.

So nevertheless, for me they are more real than a lot of people I know are.

***

To begin, I don’t intend to focus on the Jedi’s role in the war – it is of course vital, but I think the discourse about that is to be found more detailed in relation to the movies, namely the prequels, as CW is very much about the clones themselves. When I first started watching it, I will be honest, I didn’t think I’d find what I ended up finding – and that is such depth that I couldn’t imagine finding again, after being a fan of the movies, both OG and prequels, for so long. But was I wrong!

But let’s start with Ahsoka, since I started by mentioning the Jedi and she is one of the first new characters to appear (besides Rex and many others, of course). First, I wasn’t convinced that I liked her much – she was a bit of an annoying youngling for the first few seasons, after all. I wanted Anakin and that’s about it. Well, I got what I wanted, I think, as I am firm in my opinion that Anakin’s arc is so widely explored that you get a whole another view of his character, something I didn’t think was possible, after all – isn’t the entire saga about him? It is, but still – what I saw in CW, through characters such as Ahsoka and Rex, contributed so much to Anakin’s development as a character and leading force in the saga as I don’t think anything else ever did in the movies, any of them. So, yes, I got what I wanted, but also, I got so much more – Anakin is not my main point of discussion here, I think as main of a character he might be in this series, he is not THE main one, at least not for me. And as Dave Filoni is quoted saying – The Clone Wars is about Ahsoka and Rex.

Who are they? That was my main wonder when I first started watching – why would I care about a random clone captain and a youngling? They are both not present in the movies, and the clones themselves have very little personality there, they are just side characters, until they end up executing Order 66, which is of course devastating. But after watching CW, I completely changed my outlook on it, but more on that later. So, Ahsoka and Rex – admittedly, in the beginning, I didn’t find that much since it’s just mainly classic Star Wars battles and a loose plot that is not absolutely VITAL to the end result but brings so much deeper insight into the clones’ personalities, and ultimately through that to the whole feel.

What I really find devastating about this series is the nagging feeling of doom you inevitably carry with you – you spend so many episodes and seasons watching your favourite characters win numerous battles, you root for them, you cry and laugh with them, you grow so attached to them; but you know how the story ends, you’ve seen Anakin become Vader, again you know about Order 66, you know the Empire rises after all and Palpatine’s plan works – and every time you hear someone say “you’re going to lose this war”, you hope for the opposite, but you know they’re right and there’s nothing to be done – evil wins in the end of this. And as I read somewhere – this is a story that happened a long time ago – it’s over, it has already happened, there is no hope, at least in this series, which I find frankly terrifying. Amazingly done, but still heartbreaking.

Clones, war, and choices

The point about choices and what it means to be a soldier gradually becomes more and more pronounced as the show goes on – one amazing example of this is the Umbara arc where the 501st is led not as usual by Anakin, but by Pong Krell (who later turns out to be a traitor of course). This is one of the darkest moments in the show, as clones are made to kill one another, to sacrifice themselves without reason, and for the first time to face an incompetent, and frankly evil general, and to choose to disobey. This is for me a crucial moment, as the clones have never before chosen to disobey direct orders – they were, after all, made to comply and to follow what their generals tell them to.

"I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you. That's how they engineered us. But we're not droids. We're not programmed. You have to learn to make your own decisions."

But here, we can see the conflict – especially in Rex, as he is the captain and has to face the general and answer for his deeds. He looks him directly in the eye and tells him they are not willing to go on a suicide mission, that they will not follow his orders, after he’s made them fight and kill their brothers unknowingly, and even ordered Fives and Jesse to be executed. However, Rex struggles with killing Krell, when he decides to; he orders him to kneel and points the blaster at his back but is unable to fire the shot. Once again, Star Wars proves that its plot has much deeper nuances and philosophies; for the first time here, we are faced with the harsh truth – the clones are people. We know that, but it somehow gets lost in the movies, as the focus there is on the Jedi’s end, which is just as tragic, of course. But before now, no one has considered what it really means to be a clone. They were made for war, they were made to die, their lives and their deaths were planned. Are the Jedi and the Republic, in that case, really the “good” side? That’s what I, at least, started to reflect on when I reached this point in the series, and it changed my whole outlook on the saga, on everything I have seen thus far. Yes, I still think the Jedi are cool and whatnot – but did they not deserve what happened to them for so blindly exploiting their soldiers? They didn’t know about Order 66 of course, and Palpatine is in no way right – but how come the Jedi are innocent in this? I don’t think they are, at least not fully. They could’ve stopped so much suffering and helped so many more clones, if not for their narrow views, which are all the reason for the clones’ suffering, Ahsoka’s leaving and consequently, Anakin’s betrayal.

"Sometimes in war, it's hard to be the one that survives."

Oh, Cody, Co-dy! The friendship the clones and in this case – Rex and Cody – share is truly precious and very accentuated in this arc especially (here the first arc of the last season) – it is Cody who Rex confides in about not wanting to lose any more brothers, as he knows he is one of the few ones who will understand him fully, what it means to be a soldier, to have to live with the morals of war, to have never known anything but loss. This is what makes Rex dive and slightly recklessly (thank God) search for Echo, proving that he’s alive, saving him from the tortures. They are brothers, and they never leave their own behind. But he is not possessive or jealous, and when he senses Echo’s pull towards Clone Force 99, he is ready to give him the push he needs to join them. He knows his brothers, as I said, and he knows the trials of war, so if Echo will feel even an ounce happier with this squad, he deserves it, after all he’s endured – “If that’s where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

Therefore, I love the Skako Minor arc and Echo’s retrieval, not only because it sets up the ground for The Bad Batch (I’m not even going to begin trying to explain what it means to me, as it deserves to have another huge debate on its own), but because it shows Rex’s devotion to his brothers – all of them. Even though he tries to be just a soldier, to live through the deaths, he still cares immensely, and that’s what makes him a good captain. His bravery is unmatched, he is always the one leading his men, and looking out for them, because he knows his men, he stands and fights side by side with them, and he’s ready to die on the battlefield, thus setting the example for everyone.

The philosophy of war is extremely complicated – this is what I enjoyed so much about the series (and the movies of course, politics and war is the main theme), among all other things; the fact that we see war as destroying, as a necessary evil, as a tragedy by itself – but war also created life in this case and its ending brought much more death than any of the battles ever did.

"The mission... the nightmares. They're finally... over."

I’m sorry, but I think I have never witnessed anything as remotely tragic as Fives’ arc – Palpatine told only him the whole truth, fully knowing no one would believe the clone hasn’t lost his mind; but the sacrifice the trooper made ultimately saved so many lives, mostly Rex’s, one of his closest friends. Fives never got to reunite with Echo but losing him made Rex realise how important every brother is to him, and in consequence, he never gave up on any of them (not that he was inclined to do so before of course). In his last sane moment, Rex begged Ahsoka to “find Fives”, and she understood. She knew the clones better than anyone and knew exactly what that meant and never doubted it for a second. Fives saved her life, too.

Fives’ arc is the first time the show begins to become darker and more sombre – it is also the point when we as spectators begin to realize what Order 66 actually means, having seen before only its results; but this time we see its execution, through the eyes of the clones themselves. They are forced to kill all Jedi, after being their most loyal soldiers, and honestly – incredibly loyal friends as well. They can’t control it and it’s not their choice – but that doesn’t mean they don’t realize what they’re doing – Rex said he couldn’t help it; Wrecker said he tried to fight it (The Bad Batch); Bly shot Aayla so many times, so she wouldn’t suffer and her death would be quick; Cody didn’t even check if Obi-Wan was dead; Wolffe didn’t kill Plo Koon. They were people, they were made to do inhumane things, but they found a way, they made a choice, so that they could somehow live with it after.

We get all of this through the clones’ perspective, rather than the Jedi, and it’s just as painful, if not more – we are used to hearing “the army betrayed its generals”, but what happens when we realise, they couldn’t do anything about it? What happens when we see the struggle, when we can almost feel the pain of having to betray? The clones, the most loyal creatures ever created, made for loyalty, have to turn on their generals, on their comrades, on their closest friends.

So, I come back to Ahsoka and Rex. We see them in the very first moment of the show, and they have already formed a bond, which is unlike anything else. They fight side by side the whole war – from the battle of Christophsis to the Siege of Mandalore – and Dave Filoni is truly right when he says this show is about them; but I think also in a broader sense. It is about two creatures who were destined to fight all their lives, who no matter their completely opposite backgrounds, turned out to be the same things – soldiers. Through and through, in their own ways. Their friendship transcends beyond all of this, they have a unique connection, that’s never shaken, even in the direst of moments; even years later, when they meet (in Rebels), you can feel their love for one another, the purest friendship there ever was, somehow ironically created by the ugliness of war and constant fight. Both Rex and Ahsoka suffered losses we cannot imagine – Rex says he tries not to hold on to any of his brothers, and Ahsoka is a Jedi, so it is forbidden for her to form such attachments; but we know. We see it in their eyes, we can hear it when they speak. Rex can never forget Fives’ death and the fact that he died thinking no one believed him; he ran to Skako Minor in an instant even though it might have been a trap, but the chance to save Echo was not one he was going to miss out on this time. And he saved his brother, against all odds. And he saved Ahsoka, as she saved him, time and again. Because that's what brothers do.

“I’m no Jedi” – an interesting phrase for Ahsoka and Rex to have in common, given how different both their roles and backgrounds seem to be, but it is indeed the one they unexpectedly share. Spoken first by Rex here, and then a lot later by Ahsoka in Rebels, it is highly unprovable that it’s on purpose. However, I don’t think anything in Star Wars is done without a reason, so I choose to believe there is some thread connecting them – after all it is Rex and Ahsoka, and that will always matter. What it means for both of them is simultaneously the same, yet different – Rex is the clone closest to the Jedi, there is no doubt about this; he’s used to their ways, he has as equally as strong a moral code, so it is somehow thinly implied that he acts similar to them, despite (or thanks to) being one of the strongest and most respected clone leaders. His closeness to both his general and commander is widely known, so no one seems to pay attention to the fact that he is actually a clone, as he makes his own decisions, and often chooses to fight where a Jedi would opt to step back.

Ahsoka and Anakin

For me Ahsoka became the best character in the whole saga, no ounce of doubt, sorry. She is the embodiment of the Force, she is fierce, loyal, but also incredibly wise for someone her age, and someone who is still learning. On many an occasion, she proves to be more experienced than Anakin (and in my book, experience outranks everything) and I feel like he’s learned as much from her as she did from him – if not more. She is the one keeping him sane and grounded, and I’m a firm believer that had she not left the order, he wouldn’t turn. Ahsoka’s presence brings so many new layers to Anakin’s character, that have not been explored before that and had she stood by him, he wouldn’t be able to become what he became. So, yes – ultimately, I blame the Jedi order for Anakin’s betrayal, I always have, but after watching this series, and seeing it from another point of view, I simply cannot be shaken. They took everything from him and left him alone, which has always been his weakest – he has always been this little child, terrified by the dark, later consumed by it, now unable to fight it anymore. The Jedi made him, and they unmade him too. In my opinion, he shouldn’t have ever been a Jedi in the first place – he is not like Obi-Wan, not like Yoda, not even like Ahsoka (who is not the traditional Jedi either, being trained by him) – he is so powerful and so weak at the same time, and that’s where his dilemma lays – who am I? Which side am I on? He doesn’t know, but no one is there to help him – Ahsoka included, as she (rightfully so!) leaves the order when she sees the truth about it. But she carries that guilt ever since.

She blames herself for leaving Anakin, she blames herself for not fighting alongside him when he needed it; for leaving her friend, her brother. If I were Ahsoka, I would have done the same – she was betrayed by the Jedi, not by Anakin, not ever, but still. He stood with the Order when she needed him by her side. And that is what destroys him too. The loss of his padawan, his most loyal friend is unlike anything else, and for her, leaving this life that’s all she’s ever known, transforms her view on everything. And when she inevitably returns, because that’s where she is supposed to be in order for the prophecy to happen – she must be there, but not by Anakin’s side; she doesn’t fit anywhere else, but she doesn’t fit there anymore either; and she can’t follow him, so she’s sent to Mandalore, again alongside the clones, her brothers, she goes down fighting with Rex. She’s always been his sister more than a Jedi; she didn’t ever belong anywhere else but on a battlefield. She may not be a clone, and she wasn’t meant to be a soldier either; but just like the clones, the war is all she’s ever known, and even though she was meant to be a peacekeeper, peace was something she never knew, especially after Anakin’s turn to the Dark side – even though there is no longer a war, she is forever tormented by the voices she heard in his last moments as her beloved master and the pain she felt when he left.

She knew it was over in that moment – Order 66 is by far the most heartbreaking arc of them all and I can never watch it without then spending weeks thinking about it – it’s genius, really, how Palpatine had this evil plan, dictated the whole war without anyone noticing; and it worked. It worked and changed the whole entire galaxy, and nothing could have prevented it – except maybe Anakin turning; and that is what Ahsoka can’t get over; she feels it is somehow partially her fault that the dark won; if only she hadn’t left, it haunts her forever. She doesn’t know Anakin is Vader, not until she meets him after, so she thinks he’s dead like the rest of the Jedi – and when she finds out what truly happened to him, she passes out (in Rebels; another terrific moment) because the pain is just too strong – the mixture of his known presence in the Force, and his new persona, that is torn from pain and suffering, feelings so intense and unknown to her she can’t understand them. It’s not her master, but it is undeniably Anakin. And he feels abandoned, he feels alone, he is guilty and sad and in constant pain, he is no longer there, not really, but then – he is. And the memory of what he once was, what he promised, everything he taught his padawan brings such pain for Ahsoka.

She may not think she is truly a Jedi, yet she is for me the only one of them I came to respect – she is never hypocritical, doesn’t leave anyone behind, not ever, and she fights for good, always for what she deems right, never feeling like she has to change for others, but in the end always blaming herself for their fate. She could never forgive herself for what happened to Anakin, and she can never forget her brothers, the clones, she suffers and grieves for every one of them, she knows their names, they were her whole world. And the only thing she had left, because they never judged and never tried to change her, they simply stood by her. Even when they had orders to kill her.

Rex and Order 66

Ahsoka’s master was gone from that moment on, and all she had left was Rex. The other main character, and I accept no objections to that statement. Rex is... the best one ever. He is, without any doubt, my favourite from this series. Putting aside my Ahsoka obsession, I didn’t expect to grow as attached to him as I did. Then again, I can’t separate them – for me, they are a team, the best one, and I don’t think I would have liked them as much had they not been the amazing pair they are. The connection between Rex and Ahsoka is what makes this series so different and so much better than the movies for me. It shows a level of true depth and caring that we haven’t really seen before – the type of platonic trust that few people find in their real lives. If I get to have just one friend that is as loyal, I don’t think I’d need anything more. Their story is so real, so touching and beautiful and sad – I think it is not only the best one in the series, but in the whole saga, and in any storyworld, really, for me personally. They meet a kid and a soldier, but they leave the war (or maybe the war leaves them) as equals, friends bound by experiences so unique and traumatic that they can never forget them, their bond can never be destroyed. They are soulmates, and they are forever. I don’t make the rules, sorry.

"Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war. Many people wish it had never happened, but without it, we wouldn't exist.”

Rex says this to Ahsoka moments before he is forced to execute Order 66 and it makes me shudder every time I hear it. Knowing what follows, knowing that the clones that have been created for war, are humans with so much more nuanced feelings that they let themselves express, that they fear the war ending as much as others might feel a war beginning is incredibly twisted. They are not machines, they are much more than that, they have feelings, and they have morals, and they are afraid. Rex has never doubted his loyalty to his commanders, and never gave any reason to be doubted – never hesitated, never showed anything less than immense courage and skill. But now he stands before the only person he’s never been able to deceive, and he voices for the first time what probably has been torturing him for a while – the knowledge that he is expendable, that his life might be over, and that this might be what he’s always fought for – the end of himself and his brothers. Victory and death, indeed.

Viewers have witnessed many a clone death, and these last episodes are the culmination of it all – from that point on, every favourite character is in danger. Of themselves. One thing that the series does marvellously is bring personality to so many seemingly identical characters – in the movies we never get any detail about their lives, their characteristics, even their looks – but now I could recognize Fives from Echo in a second; they might have the same features and the same voice, but they are not the same. They are brothers, forged by the same essence, they share the same blood and the same heart, but they are individuals with thoughts and passions so diverse it’s impossible not to notice, not to adore.

Rex is Ahsoka’s best friend, as she reassures him moments before everything went to hell. He is the man who stood and fought by her side, and who watched her grow up. Who, when faced with the order to kill her, removes and drops his helmet in a desperate try to fight Order 66 (perhaps unconsciously, as he is being mind-controlled), and so she could see his eyes, see his tears, his struggle, his shaking, and know that he had no choice, know that on some level, he is asking for help for the first time ever, the soldier he is – he removes his helmet so he could look her in the eyes, his best friend, his sister, his commander; and she knows.

She’d ran to him, when sensing there was something wrong – of course, Ahsoka would run to Rex, because he’s Rex, he’ll know exactly what to say and what to do, and maybe he could contact somebody who can fix this; this can’t be real, the war is almost over; she’s still a child after all, she can’t face this now, not alone, not without Rex. She’s never had to face anything without Rex, it’s just unimaginable – but she runs to him and in his eyes she sees someone who is not Rex at all, and suddenly all the men she trusted with her life more times than she can count, are not the men she knows, and they want to hurt her, and Rex wants to hurt her, even though it makes him suffer. She sees his tears; she feels in him what she never believed she would.

The parallels in their relationship are just amazing – one of their first interactions is when Rex says to her “good luck, kid” on their first ever mission together – and it shows just how much he already cares for her, how he understands that beneath all her witty remarks and wish to prove herself to her new master (and his soldiers!), she is still a kid thrown on a battlefield – an unnatural atmosphere for anyone, but especially for a young child with no experience whatsoever. From then on, they just keep getting closer and their friendship grows stronger until it reaches a point where they can understand each other without even speaking.

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay”, Rex says, moments after Ahsoka has removed his inhibitor chip and essentially saved both their lives, all while putting herself at a great risk, just because she cares and she can’t do this on her own. In this moment, in his eyes, she is again the kid he first saw, scared about her friend, trying to prove that she can do it all on her own – this parallel is so important to me; she has never been in such a situation alone before, because she’s always had Rex, and now she’d almost lost him, after just reuniting with him; when for a split second there was something in his eyes that she’d never seen before, the only thing that saved her was Anakin and Rex’s training (shown in Tales of the Jedi). Anakin taught her how to fight enemies much stronger than herself, her brothers taught her how to defend herself, not knowing that she’d ever have to, especially not against them. It’s truly heartbreaking.

“Ahsoka, it’s all of us” – just seconds after she has saved him, Rex looks her in the eyes and apologizes for almost doing the undoable, for almost killing her, for being okay when she almost wasn’t. How would he ever live with himself, knowing that he betrayed his best friend? The animation has developed so much by this point, that in this last episode, it’s almost like watching real people acting, at least that’s how I’ve always felt; it feels real, the emotion is just so intense and so palpable – especially with this being the first time Rex says her name. She is his friend, she is the only one who cared enough to save him, thus saving herself, proving again and again her loyalty, the thing they have most in common. They understand each other like no one else can, they have been through everything together, and now, in these crucial moments, they have both proven it – she never gave up on him, she trusted him enough to save him, and in return, he is ready to follow her anywhere and die protecting her. From his own men. Barely awake, he’d reached for his blasters, shooting his own brothers to protect her, not even fully conscious yet. They are equal, they have become one through the Force, and if it wasn’t clear before, it is now – they are sticking together to the very end, no matter what they must do, no matter how. They are forever. Loyalty means everything to the clones.

This and what follows on the bridge of the ship as it’s coming down, are my favourite scenes from the series.

“I hate to tell you this, but they don’t care! This ship is going down, and those soldiers, my brothers are willing to die and take you and me along with them!”

Even though it’s animated, even though you can’t see his face, and the only thing is his desperate voice, you can feel the devastation when Rex utters these words, touching his chest, as he says “brothers” – he has always cared for them, his family, and has mourned every single loss, but now, when there is no other choice, he knows protecting Ahsoka is the most important thing there is – the mind-controlled clones can’t tell apart their own from a traitor, so what’s the point?

There is always a right choice – and Ahsoka proves it, when she gently removes his helmet, only to show what everyone but also no one suspected – Rex is crying, he is afraid and in pain, and she is the only thing he cares about. He’s lost so much; he can’t lose her too. But she always has a plan, and she is probably the only one who cares about the clones as much as him; they don’t need to explain themselves; she doesn’t want to be the one who is responsible for so much death; there’s been too much already. They have lived a life of war, facing death and loss every single day, and enough is enough. She wants to live, but not at the cost of murder. There is no doubt in her voice when she says that.

Burying brothers

What follows is truly devastating to watch – Rex facing his brothers, as a traitor in their eyes, as some of them stand before him, still wearing their helmets with Ahsoka’s Togruta design on them, the colours of the 501st closely resembling her lekku. They’d painted their armour as soon as they knew Ahsoka was coming back to them and they were getting their commander, and little sister back, their best friend, the only one who cares enough to remember all their names, who never turned her back on them, even now, when they are against her, she still tries to save as many of them as possible; she’s been the one whose hand they’ve reached to when dying, their last memory on this world her face, her bright eyes, full of life and care, her presence calming them in the face of the inevitable, as she will have to do now as fell, at the very end.

How must it feel to lose everything you’ve fought and hoped for, in a span of hours? Palpatine’s plan is truly ingenious. The war might have ended, but only on the outside; a much larger, much more painful fight has begun, inside, for Rex and Ahsoka, who now have to navigate a life they haven’t ever considered; they may have wondered what life after the war might be like, but not like this, never like this; not as heroes, not even as fighters – as traitors in the eyes of their most beloved brothers and the new control of the Empire. But they choose to fight until the end, crashing down, falling with the cruiser together, hand in hand; the parallel of them hanging on to each other in the hanger is precisely mirroring the moment of Anakin and Obi-Wan trying to push each other away during their legendary fight on Mustafar, which is happening at the exact same time. But these two don’t let go, they simply cannot face losing each other, not now, not after all of this. They’ve fought for years, so many battles, losing track of what the fights are about – but this last one is clear; they are fighting for each other. And when they are the only survivors, they take to bury their brothers, and grieve the colossal loss side by side, silently watching, because there aren’t words to describe what they feel, and it’s not necessary, so they don’t speak. They know.

"I don’t want to bury any more of our brothers."

The devastation and sheer exasperation we hear in Rex’s voice when he says this much later, in The Bad Batch, when talking about the inhibitor chips nonetheless, is all we’ll ever need to know about him. Laying low after the end of the war, separating from Ahsoka, believed to be dead; in fact – being dead to the world in every sense, this is the choice he makes. He’s witnessed almost all his closest friends dying, he’s lost his general, he doesn’t have a purpose and a goal anymore; he has to deal with the realization that the war is over, but it ended at way too high a price, and he’s a soldier – he will fight every day, until the end, because it’s all he knows. He’s the most loyal soldier, survived Order 66 at the highest price there could ever be, and he can’t lose more. He wants to keep fighting, and he will, but not to lose. Rex doesn’t want to feel this awful feeling of loss, not ever again.

The same goes for Ahsoka – even though she quits the order and never officially finishes her training, the Jedi life is the only one she’s ever known, so her path even after leaving, after the war ends, and after she separates from Rex, is one lead by the code to a large extent, even if done so unconsciously. She claims to not be a Jedi when she faces her master as Vader in Rebels, wanting to avenge him; but she doesn’t end up doing it, she can’t possibly kill Anakin. So, she goes on, living in this middle ground – she is not truly a Jedi, but what else could she be? She has led her troops in many battles, fought by their side; even when they didn’t have to, they still called her commander, as loyal to her as ever; recognizing that she stood by them, even held them as they died.

When The Resolute crashes after Order 66, we are aware that her and Rex took every single one of their fallen brothers, buried them, and displayed their helmets, putting Jesse at the very front, the one who’d wanted to kill them the most at the end. But they know better, it was not him, not after literal moments before that he almost went insane from Maul’s questioning because he didn’t want to betray Ahsoka; he deserved a recognition, even in death. Every single one of them did, and Rex and Ahsoka gave it to them. She lets go now of her lightsaber, the Jedi weapon that bears her identity, and lays it to rest next to the fallen soldiers, because she doesn’t want to have any more connections to this war, there’s been enough fighting. She dies here too – for what it’s worth, she fell with the clones. I can’t imagine how traumatising and terrible it felt, pulling body after body out of the debris. For both of them.

Brother after brother.

***

No matter what I say, or how much I write, I don’t think I will ever be able to express properly what this world and this series in particular mean to me. Of course I love all things Star Wars, but The Clone Wars will always hold a very special and exceptional place among them. It is a unique feeling, one I cannot put a word on, it feels too big for me, as if there is some kind of a boundary that is at the verge of explosion, it’s holding so much emotion, and there isn’t enough space for it inside. Perhaps it’s the depth and the exploration of the clones, their relationships, the empathy their lives evoke – creatures bred for war, individuals barely recognized in life. But still human, as Rex and Ahsoka remind us of the entire time – especially when we see them watching the arranged helmets of their dead brothers – the clones have not been just pawns, they are people; people who died for a cause they couldn’t have any say in. Their lives were not their own; but Ahsoka’s life wasn’t her own either. This is the tragedy of The Clone Wars, but there’s also an ironic beauty about it – Ahsoka wouldn’t have had her master or her best friend, if it wasn’t for the war. It’s a story about the philosophy of choice, hope, good and evil of course, friendship and loyalty. Victory and its highest cost, death; the consequences after a life spent fighting, which no one usually thinks about.

When the final shot rolls and we see Vader’s ominous figure step on to the same place where Ahsoka and Rex were last, as he digs his apprentice’s lightsaber and holds it, we realize what the moral of the story is. We see Anakin’s eyes behind Vader’s mask, and we feel the cold he feels – he ended up alone after all, after all his trying, he had an army, he led troopers, he cared for an apprentice, but he lost them all. He won the war, but he would rather have died with his friends – who he doesn’t know are still alive, and they don’t know what happened to him either; instead of being their enemy. But the time for choosing is over, and there is no going back for him now.

His reflection hits the clone helmet, and we see the image of Anakin, walking away from Ahsoka and Rex.

It doesn’t end with the war; it begins with it.

[umi-adxhira]

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 008

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Idk Dion

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Don't ask me how I'm uploading three (well four chapters since I'm posting Chaoter 9 after this) chapters in a day. I started on Friday and I forgot to upload 😔. Mistakes have been made folks and for that I sincerely apologise

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You’re back in Roxana’s room again, the faint smell of roses and sandalwood clinging to the air. She’s lounging on a chaise, her golden hair catching the light as she idly flips through a book. When you step inside, her eyes lift to meet yours, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

“You’re here again,” she says, closing the book with a soft thud. “What is it this time?”

“I’m going to Yggdrasil with you!” you announce.

Roxana raises an eyebrow, leaning back as though your words are more entertaining than anything she’s read today. “I’m aware,” Oh, I thought. Okay. I was HOPING to make a dramatic appearance and leave her stunned… but this… okay wow. She could have at least pretended to be surprised. She didn’t have to steal my thunder like that.

You fold your arms, ignoring her mocking tone. “I heard that this year, you, Dion, and Griselda are attending. Apparently, Griselda’s sorcery has improved so much that she’s earned a spot, even though your brother was supposed to go,”

She laughs, a soft sound that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’ve been paying attention. Yes, Griselda’s progress has been... impressive. Lante decided she’d be more useful at Yggdrasil than our dear NPC brother.”

The term "NPC brother" makes you snort. I can’t believe she remembers those terms. ‘NPC’. I thought that was forgotten along with her past life. Turns out it wasn’t. “Still, the story doesn’t actually start until next year. I don’t know what’s going to happen this time around. It must be uneventful, though, since it was never mentioned in the novel or manhwa.”

Roxana’s smirk falters for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s a dangerous assumption to make. Just because it wasn’t written doesn’t mean something won’t happen,”

You shrug, trying to seem indifferent. “Maybe. But I can only work with what I know,”

There’s a pause as Roxana studies you, her gaze piercing. Finally, she leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. “How were your lessons with Griselda?”

“They were fine,” you reply, wondering how she even knew about that. But you don’t voice your concern. “She taught me the usual stuff: posture, manners, all that. She also asked about my old world,”

Roxana’s expression sharpens. “And you told her? About your past?”

You shrug again, brushing her concern off. “Yeah, I did. There’s nothing she can do with that information, and honestly, I don’t care. It’s not like it matters here,”

Roxana’s eyes narrow further, her playful demeanor fading into something more serious. “Was that wise?”

You tilt your head, meeting her gaze evenly. “What could she possibly do with it? I don’t have any skeletons in my closet - at least none that would mean anything in this world,”

Her silence speaks volumes. You can tell she doesn’t agree, but she doesn’t push the issue. Instead, she sighs and waves a hand dismissively. “Fine. If you’re so confident, I’ll let it go. For now,”

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turn toward the door. But just as your hand reaches for the handle, Roxana’s voice stops you.

“I know you’re hiding something,” she says, her tone as cold and sharp as a blade. Shit, did she figure me out? “And I will find out what it is. If it’s something that threatens me or my plans, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” Wow, way to ruin the mood.

You turn back to her, raising an eyebrow. “Was that wise? To tell me that, I mean,” you ask, throwing her own question back at her.

Roxana doesn’t respond immediately. For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, she smirks again, but it’s devoid of warmth. “We’ll see.”

Deciding not to press further, you leave the room, the weight of her words lingering in the back of your mind. She’s always like this, isn’t she? Testing, pushing. You can’t decide if it’s infuriating or fascinating - or maybe both.

The hallways of the mansion feel quieter than usual as you make your way back to your quarters. I’ve been here long enough to become somewhat familiar with the layout, though the sheer size of the place still makes it easy to get lost. The air is cool, the faint sound of distant footsteps echoing somewhere far off.

As you turn a corner, you feel it - a presence, subtle but unmistakable. You stop in your tracks, your senses sharpening. Without calling out, you slowly turn around, your gaze sweeping the dim corridor. For a moment, there’s nothing. Then, like a specter, Dion steps into view, leaning casually against a pillar.

“You’re getting better at noticing,” he remarks, his voice low and smooth. “Or maybe I’ve grown careless.”

You don’t respond, merely staring at him. What does he want now? Why does he always feel the need to linger like this? The silence stretches, thick and oppressive, but you refuse to break it.

Dion tilts his head, he murmurs, taking a slow step forward. “I wonder what’s going through that head of yours,”

Still, you say nothing. You keep your expression carefully neutral, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Why should I entertain him? He’s like a cat playing with a mouse - always looking for some kind of reaction, some way to amuse himself. I’ve seen this many times.

He sighs, feigning disappointment. “Still nothing to say?” he takes another step closer, the air between you growing heavier with every inch he closes. You shift your weight, turning slightly as though to walk away. Dion notices, of course.

Ignoring him, you turn fully and begin walking, your footsteps echoing softly in the corridor. Behind you, you can feel his gaze burning into your back, but you don’t stop, don’t look back.

“You can’t ignore me forever,” he calls after you, his voice laced with amusement. You don’t respond, your pace steady and deliberate. The sound of his laughter follows you, low and dark, until you turn the corner and leave him behind.

When you finally reach your room, you exhale slowly, leaning against the closed door. Dion... what is it with him? Why do I always feel like he knows something I don’t? Is he subtly planning to revolt? Did I make a mistake? There’s no time to dwell on it. Yggdrasil is soon, and whatever awaits me there, I’ll be ready.

[stateswscarlet]

Hi Scarlet! I saw your twt bio said no dms so I thought I would share my successes here that I got from your threads and content!

Bit of a background: I hovered over from the a+p girlies after affirming for 9-10 months for all my desires, using everything they taught and even putting full faith into thoughts and science manifesting. I would affirm almost nonstop (during work, school, even as I was eating/talking to others) for the entire time and I eventually got super frustrated! Not a single manifestation came in or even the slightest movement, maybe a butterfly and a car here and there (looking back at it its because I accepted seeing them internally and didn’t contradict that state, it wasn’t even the affirming). In March-ish I found your account on my timeline and previously I would ignore any states related information because I thought states were the same as dominant thoughts, but something about your thread at the time caught my attention which led me down a rabbit hole (positively!) of consuming your threads. I realized a lot of it actually made sense and explained why I didn’t see success so far.

Anyways so after a few weeks of learning about states I decided to stop overconsuming and stick to your account and edward art ONLY for all my manifestation needs. It was a little hard breaking free from the affirming mindset but I decided to focus on embodying how it would feel if I no longer had to worry about my thoughts and allowed that to wash over me. I used your “embody being the solution” thread SO SO much and I realized I was able to quickly solve all my internal issues using that because anytime I felt stuck, I just had to assume the feeling of being unstuck and what the ideal situation would be! I also fell in love with fulfilling my imagination and although I did care about experiencing it in the 3D, it was more like me not even thinking of it reflecting because its a LAW. I remember you saying you don’t even have to think about stuff reflecting because it does so anyways and my only role is to naturally give it to myself. So here is a list of some of my *bigger* manifestations that came in within a month-ish of me APPLYING states of being after I learned about it:

SP and I got back together after 8 months no contact and 11 months separation

My top choice graduate school which rejected me months ago actually reaching out to me offering me a spot saying the rejection was a “system error”

Free coachella tickets all expense paid in a luxury hotel that sponsored not only me but my boyfriend and 3 friends

My favorite makeup brand randomly sending me a HUGE package of makeup that I never ordered or asked for (I wanted more makeup from this brand)

My dad receiving a random check to clear his entire credit card debt of around a decade

A better job for my boyfriend that pays him double of his last one and has flexible hours that he didn’t need to apply for or interview and hes been loving it!

Free first class plane tickets to Bali this summer! I had already booked normal ones months before but last week I got an email saying my party had randomly been selected for a free upgrade. This happened like a day or so after I for fun assumed the state of someone who has a live of luxury.

I have other smaller successes but these are some of my main ones!I really want to thank you scarlet you have honestly changed my life and I can’t believe it truly was that easy all along! Thank you for your amazing threads, please continue dropping more (I literally have your notifs on haha)

AWW YAYYYYYAYAYS IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!! You’re absolutely amazing🫶🏼

I dont even use this platform but just thought I would share this ❤️

[avipop]

DOG MAN WAS GO!!!

I’d like to start out by saying that I’ve loved these comics for so long, probably since like the 2nd or 5th came out. Actually, the 5th was the first one I read! I’m kinda sad that they didn’t include piggy and chunky and bub but I get it, there wasn’t exactly space. For one movie they put together a bunch of stuff really well, and it only felt slightly rushed! Also um random but Petey canonically has green eyes! So do I hehe >:)

I cried. I cried at specifically the part where petey’s dad is being a turd and making fun of petey for crying and lil petey says ‘that’s not nice’ like 😭

This is gonna be weird and personal but I have alot to learn honestly and dog man is a really sweet way of teaching people stuff and like… I don’t know it’s just so beautiful ! Like that one part where it says something about kids who sucked at school and went on to make comics aaaaaaaa that one was a tiny lil thing but I cheered haha. Sorry I’m reallt bad at summing up my thoughts but basically— it’S one of those little things to cling to and give hope and stuff ! Because shit is hard but if you look at it from a different perspective and be less hard on yourself it’s actually better- I dunno I’m being a little bit of a hypocrite to say that but

DOG MAN IS GO!!!! It defo gave laffs too btw the comedy wasn’t *quite* as good at the books but I liked it!! Then again im humoured pretty strangely so I dunno if y’all should take my word for it.

But there were so many times where I just went YES! Because my bootycheeks has read all the books multiple times. It’s kinda sad I’m now fanning over dog man alone- I used to have others to be a fan with… oh well :’)

Okay okay but why Sarah and chief?? I literally yelled out “what about nurse lady??!” Like I don’t mind most of the creative liberties even as a dog man og fan and like I usually don’t like it when movies change up what happens in the books but I was acc fine w this one except for this. Like I’m not pissed or anything it was just pretty funny

Um anyway my memory isn’t the best so I can’t remember all my thoughts but I think that was pretty good! It’s still unreal to me that this even came out but I’m so very glad I got the chance to see it!!

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Angelina Jolie is truly a fascinating 1 to me.

one because she does her her own PR all by herself so if there’s any news that comes out about her that there’s a source she is more than likely going to be that source or her assistant is but The thing is I don’t even think she has an assistant so any new she puts out there about herself. is publicity for herself but I feel like in the last few years after Brad Pitt ended.

she became a bit more reclusive and just wanted to be with her kids and her charities which makes sense obviously because she’s a mother and I think she’s probably quite a good mother if not a bit close to her kids in some areas such is their dating life and I’m not just saying this about Angelina I’m saying this about other ones as well. they say that the kids that they adopt end up being like their poor person and their real children end up in rehab I can’t remember where I heard that from now. but it doesn't sound far fetched to me at all because think about it to get into that business you have to be a bit kooky and a bit out there anyway, and what helps you cope with situations like that, drugs and alcohol a tale as old as time but they like to throw you off with their smoke and mirrors. Because if you see what’s happening over here then you won’t look there. which shoots most of them just fine and that is why a lot of neppo babies,, change their name change their last name if you looked into it I’d probably say about 70% of them are related to somebody in the industry at least if not more than one but yeah Angelina she lost her mother quite young. And then she had that percentage of catching the cancer herself so she had a double mastectomy.

She was estranged from her dad for many years, and they have a very unusual dynamic. I don’t think she has much respect for her father, and also, although she said she was very close to her mum, didn’t she have it off with one of her mummy’s boyfriends when she was like really young? And it wasn't made a big deal about. Honestly these celebrities are a different breed to us that’s why when people have asked me I say I think they go through initiation periods where they go through different trials and humiliation rituals and dynamics to see how they’ll cope with it.. and if they don't then they label you as crazy or on drugs and if you do you have to keep jumping through the hoops so you do end up. On drugs or crazy in quotes. Which I don’t think is crazy at all what I find more crazy is the people who stick to it and do all these things and jump through the hoops. And stay famous for so long for being very debaucherous. I mean Angelina from what I hear runs like children's homes and stuff but I also hear that that could be how they traffic too… so I don’t always like the title philanthropist because I don’t trust celebrities even though I feel like I have a connection with them I don’t put them on a pedestal, and I realized that they’re also only human or as David Icke could say lizard. Especially if he’s talking about the Royals. But he says about blonde hair, blue eye types as well, and people’s eyes who’ve changed into reptilian.. but yeah, I find it very interesting that she is her PR person. And the fact that Brad might have even been racist to his own adopted children. Now whoever he got for his PR afterwards did a ******* good job because none of his horribleness has got out as much as it should have. Not like the jokes that she got that she was a terrible person and that she stole him from Jennifer. Men don’t get stolen from. If a man wants to go, a man will go. And we need to, as a society, stop blaming. The other person, especially women, I do get quite hurt about Bobbie Jean brown When she got dumped for Pamela Anderson cause I read her book, I felt a connection. But it was the way Pam did it that was so shady. And Tommy, I think they’re both at fault there. Anyway, that’s my take on Angelina Jolie over the decades.

[oniondip420]

Yarn Log - Horseshoe Bookmark

Background & Thoughts

I started this bookmark wayyyy back around the time when I had already started The Blanket™ (Post incoming within the week probably). I had wanted a smaller project that I could use light weight yarn (I think it’s sport weight but I can’t remember) and it just so happened that at the time I was going through some cookbooks to pick out recipes that I could make, and a custom bookmark seemed like a fun thing to add to that process. Of course, I naturally fell off of going through the cookbooks and never actually made anything 💀

Technically, this pattern is not particularly difficult. The most complicated maneuver is an sl1-k2tog-psso, which sounded insane at the skill level I was at, but a quick YouTube search clarified it pretty easily. It was helpful also to do in preparation for the second half of The Blanket™, which had a lot of k2tog’s in it.

HOWEVER, I kind of hated this project and don’t like how it turned out lol. Not only did I choose to use that really light weight yarn, but I also chose a very dark blue color (the pictures look brighter bc they’re well lit, but while working on it, the color might as well have just been near black). This made it extremely difficult to count stitches, to orient myself within my current progress, and to catch mistakes to undo. There are several mistakes in this that I just kind of gave up on going back to fix, because I preferred it to be done rather than perfect:

I messed up the border stitch on one side at some point. It’s not so noticeable, since the yarn is dark and the mistake is so small, but it still irks me since I know it’s there. I have a slightly different technique about the first stitch of each row that I like how it looks (more details when I post about The Blanket™) so it ruins the vibe a bit.

Hilariously, I seem to have gotten the sides reversed halfway through the bookmark, so the horseshoe pattern for the rest of it is just an ugly purl-ey mess that should have been on the other side. Still not actually a huuuge deal since I don’t care about this piece so much, but it’s honestly funny lol.

There’s this random loop poking out. Idk if I accidentally dropped it or something, but it’s just sort of there lol. Luckily I can just sort of tuck it into the hole right there from yo’ing, so it hopefully won’t get snagged and make stuff fall apart.

I think the top of the bookmark is very slightly narrower than the bottom. Idk if this was from pinning it wrong during the blocking process yesterday, or if it was a yarn tension issue. Regardless, it too is like. A couple millimeters at most, so for this project it’s also whatever.

There are certainly other issues with this, but analyzing it even under a bright light is so annoying, I’m not gonna dig deeper into it. The above are just the most obvious issues that I can notice.

I actually finished this bookmark ages ago and it’s just been sitting in my project bag, waiting to be blocked. Since I ended up doing some small warmup crochet projects (posts also incoming!), I blocked them all together, which is why this is FINALLY done.

So in terms of lessons learned:

I hate working with light weight yarn and will not be doing so anytime soon

I hate working with dark colored yarn and will not be doing so anytime soon

That’s basically it. I just don’t want to do something like this again in the nearish future lol

Pattern

[phannibal]

finished the fight the future novelization!! overall it was an extremely mid adaptation that did not take advantage of the change in medium to do anything interesting, but it was still a fun read and honestly some plot points were clearer than in the movie. liveblog and standout moments under the cut :3

immediately the narration feels like someone is describing something that’s happening on screen. this is not a good thing; a good adaptation is able to use the strengths of its medium to tell the story in a way that is compelling in and of itself (day of the doctor perfect example) (this is why screen -> book adaptations fall flat when using a different author, the book author has a lot of guesswork to do wrt POVs, motivations, and other internal character stuff) (but do I really want to read a book by chris carter)

wait this is awesome face blindness can’t affect me in the written word. wow turns out that one guy was two guys all along

y’know it’s almost not fair to criticize this book for being a clunky adaptation bc fight the future leans so hard into its own cinematography in a way that makes it irreplicable in text. god I want to write a dissertation comparing this to the dotd novelization with references to the other x files and target novelizations and comparing franchises and impact of same vs. different author of the same story. waves sadly at my nonexistent media studies degree

he comes into the initial hearing and her heart LIFTS. this is what i’m talking about use the medium to give us character insight!!!

oh no fucking way. author just used “who’s” when the correct word was “whose.” probably worst mistake I have ever seen in a published book

the dialogue in particular does not translate well to text. maybe there’s a way to make m&s’ opening back and forth just as iconic and characteristic in print, or mulder’s drunken exposition slash tagline just as comedic yet foreboding, but as is, they (and other standout lines) just fall so flat

they don’t even say that he’s peeing on the independence day poster 😑

did this author come from fanfiction or something bc the amount of “the younger man” I’m having to roll my eyes at is obscene

this is the biggest glimpse we get into any character’s thoughts so i’m holding it to my chest forever and ever

god so the 3am “what are you implying” “is that what you’d like me to do” feel WAY more loaded in text

also “she had been thinking exactly that” 🥺

TWICE. yeah i bet

I’m like 90% sure some lines of dialogue are slightly different like just meaningless word order choices but I’m not putting on the movie to confirm

no okay the above is definitely true. “the one thing in the world he can’t live without” is NOT the original line but goes just as hard

have to include this bc it is absolutely the most changed dialogue in the whole book. wish i could see into this author’s head

realizing for the first time that the guy that planted the bomb = the guy eavesdropping on mulder in the bar = the guy driving the ambulance because in a book you have to spell that type of thing out

i DID actually pull up the movie upon reading these lines bc i was like i knowww i would remember this. i wonder if the author was working off of the original script or something and this was part of that? or if she was really just allowed to freestyle

god so we know in the movie he just kind of jumps down a random ice hole after he initially falls through. here it’s specifically and clearly a vent because ig this author could not rationalize him choosing to jump down a random hole

long af image so click to read but INSANE insane emphasis on the cpr scene for no reason. like that lasts 2 seconds in the movie but is fully a page and a half here, thanks for that at least ms elizabeth hand

protectively :')

why is this exchange so neutered?? where is the passion? where is "some hollow personal cause of mine" and "i can't. i won't"?

that's all i got! i think these excerpts really demonstrate the shortcomings of a direct, no-frills screen-to-text translation. i can't help thinking that this book was meant to be just another thing to put on shelves and sell, as opposed to being born of a genuine desire to retell the story in a new way. like i said, still fun though, and enough new tidbits to make it worthwhile!