#but i guess its like this forever now! and it only gets worse!

[indiestsnake]

okay. for real this time. Major In Stars and Time spoilers for act 3 and beyond. To my wonderful friends playing this masterpiece, to no further. To potential readers, buckle up. This gets long ._.

I thought this game was done with causing me symptoms of emotional exhaustion and stress overload. I was wrong.

Acts 5 and 6 of this game caused the most emotion a video game has ever inflicted on me. Like- the tightness in my chest was an emotion I can only describe as grief. Genuine grief. I felt like I needed to sob for most of act six, for multiple reasons.

Let’s start at the fuckin transition I guess!!!!!!!!!! Siffrin finally thinks they figured it out, and they haven’t. The genuine fear I felt in the cutscene with Euphrasie, the realization that… that this was it, Siffrin was simply stuck. I believed it. I could not find a way to break my suspension of disbelief. I fully, genuinely could not believe that this game had a happy ending. I did not know this game only had one ending, but even if I did, it… I don’t think it would’ve done anything.

The following monologue was the usual terrifying, the game using its informal dialogue to reap horrific subversive effects as usual. Of course it saved some tricks for this moment, like taking away control of when the dialogue progressed. Watching Siffrin snap so thoroughly, lose all his hope and cling to the thought of defeating the king alone because he doesn’t know what else to do, it… it really breaks you.

So. Now that the game has maximized my potential sympathy for Siffrin. And torn my empathetic heart to shreds. It immediately turns on a heel and makes me hate them within three conversations. The things they say to Mira, Odile, Bonnie, Isa, made me so thoroughly angry. I would not blame Odile for actually harming him. I would not blame Mira if she never spoke to him again. I would not blame Bonnie for never wanting to even think about him again. And I would not blame Isa if he no longer loved Siffrin.

I am a person who believes in redemption. In second chances. The readers of my fics know this well. But sadly, actions have to have consequences. And the actions Siffrin takes should have lost him his friends, his family, forever. Even in his circumstances. They had no reason to keep caring.

So then, reeling from the genuine sense of loss and grief and hate and despair, Siffrin nicks the orbs and goes in alone. Through about, what, 20-30 minutes of gameplay, this tension persists. The game didn’t even need to barrage me with monologues, just show those conversations of the family Siffrin left, tear apart the house and the menus and the game till it was barely recognizable. Siffrin. The Lost One, says his profile. Memory of emptiness. Rock, paper, scissors. It’s so dry. So dull. So full of despair and pain and fear and a question of what he could ever do to deserve this hell. He can’t go back. He cannot find the hope or will or anything to go through with it, to follow the script. So even if this does break the loop. What then? He is left with a world where the people he loves most despise him.

Then finally, he reaches the king.

The fight is almost dull. Simplistic. Full of pain. Siffrin does not need a shield to withstand the vision of the future. Because the world they live in cannot get any worse. Nothing scares him more than the hell he now exists in.

Then, he begins to freeze. The king slows him down. And he falls asleep.

The following sequence was just… indescribable. The sadness variant of him, Mal du Pays. French for “homesickness”. Just a simple drawing of Siffrin. The music. The dialogue. The words that come from its mouth. From the party’s mouths. Siffrin tries to say it’s fake. Isabeau’s segment convinces him it’s not.

I didn’t even realize what was happening till it flashed forward and gripped the screen by the face.

He was turning into a sadness.

The frame of his sadness gripping the screen, like many of ISAT’s frames, is something I can’t manage to forget. The cloak and the face and the way it fills the screen so suddenly and finally speaks as itself, not as Siffrin’s party. And he can’t fight it. They just can’t. The universe leads, but he is tired. And now, he can rest. If he just lets go.

In that moment, I was staring at a black screen, begging, pleading for the credits not to roll.

And then he wakes up.

Because his friends are back.

Despite what he said and did, they knew he didn’t mean it. And if he did, they didn’t care. It was clear something was wrong, and they were determined to fix it. Because they were his friends.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a game manage to convey self-hatred so convincingly that I, the player, began to hate my character in a way their friends could not. In fact, I was not aware that was a thing that could happen.

I don’t even know how to express the feelings this give me coherently. It feels like this game snatched away one of my closest moral beliefs only to clothesline me with said belief so I learned it even harder. What Siffrin did was not unforgivable. But it truly convinced me that it was.

So of that when all hope seemed truly, truly lost. It pulled the basic trope of “your friends come help when you thought you were alone”. And it nearly knocked me out of my chair.

First off, get fucked king. Second off, happy for you king.

And then the walk to Euphrasie. I was mixed with giddy glee and unending dread for this whole thing. Isa helps Sif walk while Bonnie holds their hand. Color exists again but only red and oh god the world is ending. Euphrasie is still broken oh god please no don’t send me back don’t take this from me please no no no no WAM REVERSE BOSS FIGHT

Cue that scene. I wasn’t exactly happy that my only option aside from hurting my friends was hurting myself. But it did not take long for me to start groaning in annoyance when Mira healed me.

And then. Against all odds. Siffrin breaks. As does the text formatting as the party literally claws at the text box edges to yell at him.

They fall. Hands clasped together. And he tells them his wish. That he just wants to stay with them.

Of course. That’s all he ever wanted.

And oh god, oh thank every deity, that’s all they want too.

And he finally gets a god-damn motherfucking son of a bitch eye-losing tear-jerking MOTHER FUCKING HUG

and damn it was a good one. poor guy was all squimshed. lost his hat too

the rest of the dialogue is just. amazing. I was gigging and smiling and shaking and vibrating with joy before I even finished Mirabelle’s segment. Walking to Bonnie was when I realized it felt like I wanted to cry. During Bonnie’s dialogue was when I almost did cry. Then Odile. Who I obviously asked for the long version of her theory and she was very helpful for explaining all the stuff. and then.

Isabeau.

oh. my. fucking. god.

the joy I felt when he said it. The leap I leapt, ungracefully dancing over to my bed and mouthing screams of joy. I genuinely just collapsed and writhed around like a fish out of water in happiness. You know how some folk flap their hands to stim? Yeah, imagine that but my whole body. I was so unbelievably happy. I don’t know how a game did this much to me.

The rest of the dialogue was wonderful too. Sif apologized for everything, even the optional events, even admitted the bad touch event. And of course. Isa freaked the fuck out. Because oh my god Sif kissed him. And then when Sif clarifies that it was not a good kiss. He just thinks for a moment like. “…………. Maybe u just need more practice!!! ^^” and it was at that point Siffrin and Isabeau plushies manifested in my hands and I mashed their faces together like barbie dolls

Mira doesn’t want self-spoilers and thats hilarious. Bonnie has no fucken clue what’s going on but she knows Sif was hungry sick and at school so all is well. Odile admits she linguine’s him and yes I fucking love that joke. SIF’S HOME COUNTRY MIFHT APPEAR IN THE DISTANCE????? AND ISA AND SIF ARE GOING ON A FUCKING DATE

and it was at this point I saved my progress, crossed my heart, and prayed Euphrasie would not send me back.

And she didn’t.

oh, god, this game…

welp. this post is two hours in the making. dunno if any of this is coherent but I think if you’ve played isat you get it. thank you to everyone who’s been blowing up my liveposts recently!!! it’s been cool to see the fandom giggle evilly at my suffering :3

tho my contributions to the Isat fandom do not end here. the fic is imminent. I could not stop it if I wanted too. If you couldn’t tell by the essay you just read.

thank you for reading this far if you somehow did!!!! hope you enjoyed my nonsensical babbling. I’m gonna go pass out. have a good day!!!!!!! .3

[samwisefamgee]

how does this week keep getting worse wtf

[storm-of-feathers]

christ.

[itsalwaysdark]

ill be like I can totally make a lighthearted post mentioning a kink i have and i wont even freak abt it. and then i freak abt it

[sleepyjim2]

yap sesh in the tags ! <3 nothing new im just frustrated abt my disordered sleep schedule as always . woke up at 5 pm and i will probably be failing my All Dayer and going to sleep shortly At 8 am and then sleeping for 1 billion years

[i-cant-sing]

TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

-

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

-

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

-

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

-

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

-

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 02

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

word count — 12.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, smoking, alcohol use, mature themes, and depictions of illness. reader discretion is advised.

author's note — yeeaaaah, guess who's back with a fresh new chapter !! i know, i know, it's been forever since i last posted, but here we go, be prepared to die from second-hand embarrassment. massive thank you to @nanamis-baker for beta reading and calling me out on my plot holes. & as always, this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting after ch 12. but you can read it as a standalone.

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

You never thought you'd find yourself in the chemistry lab on a Saturday morning, but there you were, helping your best friend Megumi set up his experiment for his thesis presentation. 

You were a law student, not a scientist.

The closest you'd come to a lab was binge-watching "Breaking Bad" on Netflix.

But Megumi was your ride-or-die since kindergarten, so when he called you at the crack of dawn, frantically rambling about his professor, his thesis, and some chemical you couldn't even pronounce, you threw on your favorite hoodie and raced over to campus.

"Okay, so where do we start?" you asked, eyeing the array of beakers, test tubes, and Bunsen burners that looked like they belonged in a mad scientist's lair.

Megumi ran his fingers through his messy black hair, a habit he'd had since childhood whenever he was stressed. "Well, first we need to mix these two solutions." He handed you a beaker filled with a clear liquid.

You took the beaker gingerly, as if it might explode at any moment. "You sure you trust me with this? I mean, I don't even remember the last time I was in a lab."

"I have faith in your ability to follow instructions," he said.

You eyed him wearily. 

What have you gotten yourself into?

You spent the next hour mixing, measuring, and occasionally cursing under your breath when something didn't go quite right. As you worked, your mind drifted to your internship at the most prestigious (and pretentious) law firm in the city that had started a few weeks ago. It already felt like the most stupid thing on earth happening to you.

Okay, okay, you had applied there yourself. But you didn't think they would actually accept you. 

Unlucky luck or so.

The first week at Nishimura and Asahi had been a total nightmare. The law world was nothing but cutthroat competition, where even the coffee machine seemed to be judging you. That must have been the reason why you spilled coffee on your shirt on the second day of your internship. And you had nothing to change into. 

And yes, you had a meeting that day too.

But the worst part was that mortifying incident in your first week. You accidentally barged into the wrong office and caught two senior partners in a, uh, very compromising position. Let's just say the image of their shocked faces and scrambled clothes was forever burned into your brain. You swore you'd never enter another office again unless you absolutely had to.

Thank goodness for Mr. Higurama, your advisor. He was the only sane person in this whole place. If it weren't for his calm attitude and genuine support, you'd probably have been back at law school by now, rocking back and forth in a corner.

The third week? Bearable. But worse in its own way. Endless boring tasks and emails that were basically passive-aggressive warfare. And then, just when you thought it couldn't get any more uncomfortable, HR reminded you in week three that you still hadn't turned in your health certificate. 

At least you managed to do that.

It reminded you of a certain—date, or no, meeting? appointment? Or what was it?—You had with your doctor. 

Oh god, what were you thinking?

"Okay, so now I need you to hold this," Megumi said, handing you a graduated cylinder filled with a bright blue liquid that looked suspiciously like something toxic.

"What is this stuff?" you asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Just a harmless indicator solution," he assured you. "It'll change color when the reaction is complete."

"Great," you said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "So, basically, I'm holding a ticking time bomb that's going to turn purple and explode all over me if we mess this up?"

"Not quite. But try not to spill it, okay?"

You tried not to look at the potentially toxic thing in your hand while you rambled to yourself again in your mind. Where were you? Oh right, what the hell were you thinking about going out with the very person who saw your health history? In what world was that appropriate?

"What is it?" Megumi asked, ripping you out of your thoughts.

Just now, you realized that you must have had some weird facial expression, and you quickly straightened it. "Nothing."

He looked at you with a deadpan face. "I think I've known you long enough to know when something is going on.”

You sighed and then started. "I swear, these people at the law firm are the worst. All sharks in tailored suits and ties. Everyone's constantly trying to one-up each other, backstabbing, and throwing people under the bus left and right."

"Sounds delightful," Megumi said dryly.

"Oh, it gets better," you continued, warming to your subject. "There's this one guy, Chad—I don't even know his real name, but I call him that 'cause he's got one of those typical douchebag faces—and he's like the walking stereotype of every jerk law student you can imagine. He's so full of himself, talks down to everyone, and thinks he's God's gift to law or whatever."

"And he's at your internship?"

"Unfortunately, yes," you said, making a face. "He's always trying to make me look bad, steal my ideas, and just generally ruin my day. It's like having an annoying mosquito buzzing in your ear 24/7."

"Sounds like a real charmer.”

"You have no idea," you said with a sigh. "And the worst part is, he's not even the only one. There's this whole group of them—like a 'Chad Pack'—and they seem to enjoy making the rest of us feel incompetent. He's just a spoiled rich kid, and his dad is a big shot at the firm, so he gets away with everything. I can't even call him out on his bullshit without risking my internship. It's like being back in high school with the bullies."

"See the positive, at least you haven't caught any more senior partners in compromising positions again, right?"

"Oh god, don't remind me!" You covered your face with your hands. "I swear, the senior partners can't even look me in the eye anymore—"

You got cut off by a loud pop and a cloud of smoke billowing from one of the test tubes. You both jumped back, coughing and waving your hands to clear the air.

"What the hell was that?" you sputtered, your eyes watering from the acrid smell.

Megumi peered at the smoking test tube, his brow furrowed. "I think we may have added too much of the catalyst," he said, scribbling furiously in his lab notebook.

"You think? Oh god, I'm going to die here."

"At least that would save you from your internship?" he said.

You eyed him, deadpan.

Just as Megumi glanced up, likely ready with another witty comment, the lab door swung open with a bang, startling you both. "Hey, losers!" Nobara's cheerful voice echoed through the lab, her laughter filling the room.

Losers. 

That's what Nobara affectionately calls your little mismatched group. And maybe she's right. You're an unlikely quartet, brought together by chance during your first year of university. Megumi, the chemistry nerd. Nobara, the wild-child pharmacy student. Yuji, the sports freak. And you, the aspiring lawyer who's beginning to question her life choices.

You don't quite fit in with the typical crowds in your respective fields. You guess you could say you were the outsiders, the misfits, the ones who gravitated towards each other because you didn't quite belong anywhere else.

You'd known Megumi since childhood, but you met Nobara and Yuji during the first few weeks of university at a rather uneventful mixer where you were essentially the only people not already in groups.

Yeah, you were losers, but at least you were in it together.

Without waiting for an invitation, Nobara plopped herself down on the lab bench, right next to Megumi's carefully arranged experiment. "So, how's the science project going?" she asked, curiously examining the colorful liquids bubbling in the beakers.

"Just trying to survive Megumi's thesis experiment," you replied.

Megumi raised an eyebrow. "Actually, it's going pretty well. We're nearly finished preparing."

Undeterred, Nobara hopped off the bench and slung an arm around your shoulders. "Blink three times if I should get you out of here."

"Please," you said.

"So, what are you two up to today? Any exciting plans?" Nobara asked, glancing over at Megumi. "We should grab some lunch. Yuji is finishing up his training soon, too."

You glanced at the clock on the lab wall, expecting it to be around 10 a.m. Your jaw dropped. "It's already noon?! How did that happen?"

Nobara grinned. "Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

"Or when you're stressing over a chemistry experiment," Megumi said, scribbling more notes.

You turned to Nobara. "How's that thesis treating you?" you asked, knowing the final thesis was looming over all of your heads. That's why you were all at the university, even on the weekends.

She shrugged. "It's fine, I guess. Boring, but whatever. It's gotta get done." Then, her face brightened. "But hey, guess what? There's this huge party coming up next weekend! It's hosted by some med students from another university."

Megumi and you exchanged puzzled glances. "Why would we go to a party with a bunch of med students we don't even know?" you asked.

Nobara's eyes sparkled. "Apparently, the guy hosting it is loaded, and rumor has it, this party is going to be wild."

"Wild how?" Megumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Think open bar, live DJ, even a pool," Nobara said dramatically. "Plus, it's a chance to meet new people, expand our social circles."

"You mean meeting future doctors?" you said, knowing that Nobara always dreamed of dating one. She watched way too much Grey's Anatomy. Dating a doctor is probably not as much fun as it seems.

"Hmm, maybe," she said with a sly grin.

You hesitated. Parties weren't really your scene, and the idea of mingling with a bunch of strangers, especially med students with a reputation for being wild, arrogant, and having god complexes didn't exactly appeal to you. 

They probably strut around like they've discovered the cure for brain tumors while the rest of us mere mortals are just trying to figure out how to parallel park. Yeah. No, thank you.

Nobara sensed your hesitation. "Please, do it for me," she said, batting her eyelashes at you.

"Okay," you said, surprising even yourself. Damn, you were really easy to convince. "Count me in."

Nobara squealed and threw her arms around you. "Yes! This is going to be awesome!"

Megumi simply shook his head. "I guess I'm going too, then."

"Now that that is settled," Nobara said, playfully clapping her hands together. "Wrap up your little experiment, science boy, so we can go get some food. I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure she's about to pass out from low blood sugar." She pointed at you.

"Almost done," Megumi assured her, carefully transferring a final solution into a test tube. "Just need to record a few more readings."

Nobara bounced on her heels. "Come on, hurry up! The world is waiting for us!"

Megumi rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. I'm done. Let's go."

He quickly tidied up his workstation, meticulously storing his precious samples and equipment. Meanwhile, Nobara was already halfway out the door, her excited chatter echoing down the hallway.

You grabbed your bag and followed them out of the lab, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The experiment was done, lunch was just around the corner, and a wild party awaited you all next weekend. Maybe university wasn't so bad after all. 

Or maybe it was just the promise of mediocre cafeteria food and great friends that made everything seem a little bit brighter.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

After lunch with your friends, you found yourself back in the comfort of your small apartment. You pulled out your paints and a fresh canvas, and before you knew it, hours had passed without you even realizing it. The daylight faded into a soft golden glow as the sun began to set.

You were just adding the finishing touches to your painting when your eyes happened to glance at the clock on the wall. "Oh shit," you said, slapping your forehead with your paint-covered hand, leaving a vibrant streak of blue across your skin. 

You had a... date? No, wait, a meeting... or was it an appointment? Because he was a doctor technically, right? 

Quickly setting your paints and brushes aside, you rushed to the bathroom to clean up, silently cursing yourself for getting so caught up in your painting that you nearly missed the time.

You arrived at the sports bar with a nervous flutter in your stomach. 

This wasn't a date, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time. It was just a casual meeting with someone you'd recently met. Nothing more. Definitely nothing romantic. No hidden agendas, no expectations. But even though your intentions were purely platonic, you couldn't deny the flicker of nervousness. 

Maybe it was just the excitement of meeting someone new.

Dr. Suguru Geto.

He was your doctor, yes, but he was also intriguing, with his kind eyes and gentle smile. Your conversation seemed to go beyond the usual small talk from the beginning, maybe it was the unusual way you met.

You shouldn't have asked him to meet, a voice in your head nagged. Why did you do this again? Because of his sad puppy eyes? You groaned inwardly. You couldn't even explain it to yourself. It had slipped out before you could stop yourself.

But to your surprise, he had agreed. 

And now, here you were.

The atmosphere in the sports bar was electric. The roar of the crowd, punctuated by cheers and groans, echoed through the dimly lit space. The smell of stale beer and greasy food hung in the air. You didn't expect it to be so crowded. It was a rather niche bar.

A basketball game blared on the numerous screens, and the air crackled with the excited chatter of sports fans. You weaved your way through the crowd, your heart pounding a little faster with each step.

The walls were plastered with sports memorabilia, jerseys of local heroes and faded photographs of past games. The flickering lights of the numerous screens cast dancing shadows on the faces of the people.

Waitresses weaved their way through the throng, balancing trays laden with overflowing pitchers of beer and plates piled high with nachos and chicken wings. Every eye glued to the screens showcasing the nail-biting basketball game.

You spotted Suguru at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he focused on the game. His back was to you. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, standing beside him and mirroring his gaze towards the screen.

"Think they'll try a full-court press now?" you said.

"I doubt it," he replied, not looking away from the screen. "They're already down by ten with only two minutes left. It's too risky."

"True," you agreed. "But they need to create some turnovers fast if they want any chance of a comeback."

"You know your basketball." He finally turned his head, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hi," you said, raising your hand in a half-hearted wave and immediately regretting it when you realized how awkward it felt and let your hand fall to your side. You slid onto the stool next to him, the vinyl squeaking slightly.

"Oh hi," Suguru said. "Sorry, I didn't even realize it was you. Didn't expect you to be into basketball."

"My dad played in university. Some of it rubbed off on me, I guess."

Suguru then waved at the bartender. "What do you want?" he asked you, smiling.

You watched him take a sip of the beer in front of him. "I'll have the same," you replied, returning his smile.

The bartender, a burly man with a handlebar mustache, nodded and swiftly retrieved a chilled bottle from the cooler. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he popped the cap and set it before you, the condensation already forming tiny droplets on the smooth glass. You took a sip.

You couldn't help but notice how good Suguru looked outside the clinical setting. His usual white coat and scrubs were replaced by a casual outfit that somehow amplified his attractiveness. 

His long, black hair was pulled back into a half bun, a few stray strands framing his face. He wore a simple shirt with an overshirt layered on top, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing surprisingly muscular arms. 

Damn, you thought to yourself, trying to subtly avert your gaze. He's definitely not your average doctor. But you're definitely not your average patient too, to be fair.

"It's great to see you outside the clinic," Suguru said. "How have you been? Is your medication working well?"

You rolled your eyes. "I thought we agreed not to talk about medication and stuff outside of the hospital?"

"You're right, sorry. I guess I don't talk about much else often...might be getting a bit rusty," he said, sounding like a grandfather.

"So, no hobbies or interests besides medicine, huh?"

"Not much, to be honest."

"Besides a certain woman, that is," you teased.

His eyes met yours with a deadpan face. "Didn't we agree not to talk about such things outside of the hospital?"

You took another sip of your beer, feigning innocence. "Did we?"

"Now we did."

"Hmm," you hummed, eyeing him curiously.

Suguru looked at his beer briefly, then nearly whispered, "Did Satoru often talk about her?"

You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to tell him just how much he actually talked about her. Memories of countless appointments with Dr. Gojo flooded back. He'd often ramble on about her, their shared studies, the things he loved about her—

You even found yourself dreaming about the color of her eyes once, just because he'd mentioned them so often. The image of Gojo's lovestruck face whenever he mentioned his girlfriend flashed before your eyes.

No, you decided. Some things are better left unsaid.

"No, not really," you lied smoothly, taking another sip of your beer. Time for a subject change, you thought, maybe something to distract him from his lovesickness. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a seriously intense stare?"

Smooth, real smooth, subject change.

"A few people have mentioned it," he said, caught off guard. "But it didn't seem to bother you."

"Yeah, because underneath, you looked sad. Like a sad little puppy."

"Haha," he said ironically.

"So, really no hobbies? Besides basketball, it seems."

"Not a die-hard fan, but I enjoy it.” His eyes briefly darted back to the game on the screen. "I used to play a bit myself. Back in high school and university." He paused, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Satoru and I were on the same team."

"But you don't play anymore?"

"No." His smile vanished. "We started together but Satoru eventually quit in the second year of university to focus on his studies. It wasn't much fun after he left the team, and I quit some time after."

"Hm," you mused, taking another sip of your beer. "Who was the better player? You or Gojo?"

His smile returned. "Oh, I was definitely better. But if you ask him, he'll say he's the better player. But don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't want to bruise his ego."

You laughed. "I'll keep your secret."

"So, who's your team?" he asked.

"Lakers, all the way. Been a fan since I was a kid."

"Good choice. They're looking strong this year."

"Totally. Though their defense has me a bit worried."

"Fair point," Suguru said. "But with LeBron and Davis, they're still very strong."

"No doubt. I'm hoping they can make a deep playoff run this season."

Just then, someone knocked over a glass a few tables away, drawing both your attention to the commotion. Once it settled down, Suguru turned back to you, taking a sip of his beer. "Now, how about you, why do you want to become an attorney?"

You hesitated, thinking. "Because it pays well."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you give me another reason?"

You hesitated, thinking harder.

You bit your lip. Okay, you got his, think. Why law school? It's not like you're passionate about legal shit or courtroom drama. You hated the stuffy suits, the endless paperwork, and the cutthroat competition. So, what was it?

Maybe it's the power? The ability to fight for justice, to make a difference in the world? You scoffed inwardly. Yeah, right. More like the ability to argue with anyone and everyone, even if you're wrong. 

Perhaps it's the prestige? The fancy title, the corner office, the envious glances from your childhood school friends? You rolled your eyes at yourself. Please. Who are you kidding?

So, what's left? you wondered, a hint of frustration creeping into your thoughts. 

Why are you doing this to yourself?

You sighed, defeated. The truth was, you didn't have a good answer. You'd stumbled into law school on a whim, following some vague idea of success and stability. But now, as you neared graduation, you were beginning to realize that maybe this wasn't the path for you. 

That you didn't even like it.

"I... I don't know, exactly," you finally admitted. "I guess I come from a working-class family. My parents always emphasized the importance of a stable career, something safe and secure. Law seemed like a good option."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of judgment. "Is that a bad reason?"

He paused. "Not necessarily," he said slowly. "Stability and security are important. It's valid to go for that. But they shouldn't be the only reason."

"Yeah," you agreed, taking a sip from your beer. As he watched you, you suddenly felt exposed under the gaze of this man you barely knew. "How did you know you wanted to do medicine?" you asked, hoping to shift the focus away from your own uncertainties.

"It wasn't a sudden realization," he began. "It was more of a gradual understanding. I've always been fascinated by the human body, the way it works, the way it heals. And I wanted to be a part of that process, to help people in some way."

He paused, his expression turning somber for a moment. "It's not always easy," he admitted. "There are long hours, difficult cases, and fucked-up moments. But at the end of the day, when I see a patient getting better, smile again… It makes it all worthwhile."

"Sounds like you found your calling," you said, a touch of envy in your voice.

"I did," he agreed. "But there were times, especially during my residency, when I thought about quitting. The stress was insane, the workload never-ending. But I had a few close friends who kept me going. They reminded me why I'd chosen this path in the first place. It's important to have people who believe in you, even when you doubt yourself."

A light smile spread across your face as you thought of Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji, your mismatched but fiercely loyal friends. They were the ones who made you laugh until your sides ached, who listened to your endless rants about law school, and who always had your back, no matter what. You were so grateful to have them in your life.

Then, curiosity got the better of you. "So, Dr. Gojo was that person for you? Helped you through the tough times?"

"Satoru? Help me? More like he's the reason why I almost went insane." Suguru huffed and shook his head. "He was always getting into trouble, always pushing the limits. I was the one constantly having to chase after him, keeping him in check."

"Sounds like you two have quite the history."

"Yeah, we do." His smile faded slightly as he looked down at his beer, gripping it a little tighter.

Right, touchy subject, you remembered. Back in the MRI room, he'd mentioned they'd drifted apart. You quickly decided to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Hey, let's get some shots!" you exclaimed, waving over a bartender. "My treat."

Suguru raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted me to show you the city?"

"Yeah, well, it's kinda chilly out there," you said, waving a hand dismissively. 

You'd almost forgotten the little white lie you'd told him to get him to go out with you. You've lived in Tokyo your whole life. You could probably offer to show him around. It's not like he seems to ever leave the clinic. 

"Besides, who needs sightseeing when you can have shots?" you added.

The bartender arrived, and you ordered a round, telling him to surprise you.

"What are you planning with those?" Suguru asked as the bartender lined up the glasses, each filled with a different vibrant liquid.

"How about a game? We each make assumptions about the other, and if we're right, the other person has to take a shot."

"The doctor in me should probably stop us from drinking mindlessly," Suguru said, eyeing the glasses before him. "I'm game."

"Great." You took a deep breath, trying to gauge his personality beyond the white coat. "Assumption number one, you were a total nerd in high school."

"Wow, your assumption about the doctor is that he was a nerd in school? Isn't that like, a given for anyone who studies medicine?"

"But is it true?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated for a second. "Guilty as charged." He raised his first shot glass in surrender, beige liquid disappearing between his lips. "Math club, science fairs, the whole deal."

"Ugh, really? Math club?"

"Don't judge me," he said. "It wasn't that lame."

You eyed him skeptically.

He sighed. "Okay, okay, it was lame. One point for you. My turn." Suguru narrowed his eyes playfully. "Hmm, let's see... Assumption number one, you have a secret passion for something completely unexpected."

"Wow. You've gotta be a little more specific than that. That's lame."

He leaned in a bit closer, his gaze sweeping over your face. A sudden warmth spread through your cheeks. "You're into art."

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you wondered if he was some kind of mind reader or a magician with a hidden crystal ball. Or probably stalked your Instagram. "How did you—" 

He pointed to your forehead. You quickly reached up and found a tiny blue dot near your hairline that you must have forgotten to wash off. "You really pay close attention to details," you said as you wiped it off.

"Occupational hazard," he replied with a shrug and a hint of a smile. "I'm a doctor, it's my job to spot even the smallest clues."

"Well, you got me."

"What kind of art do you do?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment, a wave of self-consciousness washing over you. You'd never really shared your love for painting with anyone, not even your closest friends.

"I... I paint," you finally said. "It's just a hobby, really."

"But it's more than a hobby, isn't it?"

You looked away, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. He was right. Painting was more than just a hobby. It was a passion, a dream. But nothing worth pursuing.

"Enough about me," you said, drawing the purple shot, blueberry you assumed, in front of you in one go. You wanted to steer the conversation away from yourself, at least for now. It felt too raw, too exposed. "Let's get back to the game. My turn for an assumption."

You paused dramatically, tapping your finger on the bar counter as if deep in thought. "Okay, here it is, You always dreamed of being a neurosurgeon, like you were obsessed with it."

"Wrong," he said. "Not even close."

"You wanted to do something else?"

"Well, there was a brief period in my residency when I considered gynecology."

You leaned forward, your eyebrows shooting up. "Gynecology? Seriously?"

He shrugged. "Can't a guy like gynecology too?"

"No, I mean... I just didn't expect it, that's all. But you ended up with neurosurgery. How'd that happen?"

"Neurology has always fascinated me. The brain, the nervous system—It's all so complex, so intricate. And Satoru was into it too. He was always the one drawn to surgery, the adrenaline rush of the operating room. I guess I just followed his lead." He paused. "I don't even know why, really."

"But you enjoy surgery, right?" you asked.

"I do. It's challenging, rewarding, and sometimes even a bit thrilling. But if I'm being completely honest, I think I'm more suited to research and teaching. You know, figuring out the mysteries of the brain, sharing what I know."

"And that's how we met, isn't it?" you said, smiling. "Me, the patient with the mysterious brain thing, and you, the doctor trying to crack the case."

"I guess you could say that. But epilepsy isn't that uncommon. About 50 million people worldwide have it."

"Come on, let me feel special for a second, doc."

A warm smile spread across his face. "Okay, okay. But I must admit, you're more captivating than I first realized, attorney."

His words sent a flutter through your stomach. Was that a compliment or an insult? you wondered, but the warmth in his eyes made you lean towards the former. 

The bar's noise faded into the background as you became lost in your own little world. It was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you.

"And what did you think of me, then?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "I thought you were... intriguing," he finally said, his voice husky. "Intelligent, witty, and surprisingly resilient. But also a bit stubborn and stupid."

"Ouch," you said.

For a heartbeat, your eyes locked with his, and your stomach fluttered, a sensation you hadn't experienced in a long time. The bar's dim lights cast a soft glow on Suguru's face, highlighting his ridiculously attractive features in a way that made it impossible to look away.

Heat crawled up your neck and you tore your eyes away. "It's kind of stuffy in here, or not?" you said, fanning yourself with your hand.

"Wanna grab some air?" he suggested.

The cool night air was a welcome balm against your flushed skin. Suguru reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You watched him, surprised.

"You smoke? A doctor, no less."

He lit his cigarette with a practiced flick of his wrist. "Don't get on my case, attorney," he said, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night sky. "Everyone has their vices."

"I suppose," you said, leaning against the brick wall of the bar. "But I thought doctors were supposed to be, like, paragons of health and virtue."

He shrugged, taking another drag. "We're only human. We have our flaws, just like everyone else."

"Is it true what they say, that doctors are always self-medicating?"

"Are you asking me if I do drugs?" he asked.

"That's what you're implying now."

He took another drag. "I don't. But I've seen it, yeah. More than you would think."

"Should I be scared?"

He laughed, warm and full. A sound you could definitely get used to. "I'd probably stick with me, yeah."

"Just the nicotine addict then," you said. "Seems manageable."

And seeing him smile like that—

"It's good to see you smile," you added softly, almost without thinking.

He met your gaze, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. You could almost see him noticing the lightness in his own demeanor, so different to the usual somberness that clung to him back in the clinic. Maybe it was the casual setting, the relaxed atmosphere, or perhaps it was simply your company. 

Whatever it was, you were glad to see this side of him.

A slow breeze swept through the alley, carrying a hint of autumn's chill. You shivered, realizing you'd left your jacket inside the bar in your haste to escape the heat. Suguru noticed. "You cold?"

"A little," you admitted.

Without a word, he shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth of the fabric, still carrying his scent, enveloped you, chasing away the chill. And without the jacket, his physique was on full display. 

The simple shirt clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His forearms, exposed by the short sleeves, were corded with muscle. You tried your best to focus on the conversation, but let's be real, it was a struggle not to stare.

"Thanks." You pulled his jacket closer, trying to play it cool. "I didn't realize it would get so cool out here."

"No problem. Better than catching a cold, right?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the jacket. This is not a date, you reminded yourself. Not a date. He's technically your doctor. But then again, what doctor goes to a sports bar with their patient?

Something must be wrong with him.

The math club thing was already a red flag.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "who's your favorite artist?"

You blinked, surprised by the question. "My favorite artist? Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Just curious."

You hesitated, then the words started tumbling out. You rambled on about William Turner's dramatic seascapes, how his brushstrokes captured the rawness of nature. You gushed about the hidden symbolism in Botticelli's "Primavera" and the emotional intensity of Munch's "The Scream." 

You even shared your newfound fascination with contemporary artists like Yayoi Kusama and her mesmerizing infinity rooms. Suguru listened patiently, his eyes never leaving yours as you went on and on.

Oh shit.

You're doing it again, aren't you? A wave of self-consciousness washing over you. Rambling on and on about art. He's probably bored out of his mind. You bit your lip, wishing you could reel back the words, but it was too late. The art gusher had been unleashed. 

Why do you always do this?

"Sorry," you finally said, breathless and embarrassed. "I tend to get carried away when I talk about art."

He laughed again, warm, comforting. "Don't apologize. It's good to see someone so passionate about something. It's contagious."

You smiled, surprised that you hadn't completely embarrassed yourself. Somehow, the conversation with Suguru flowed so easily. You found yourself enjoying his company, his wit, and his genuine interest. You enjoyed being with him.

"So," Suguru said, "if you had to pick just one favorite artist, who would it be?"

"Hard to choose. But if I had to pick just one, it would probably be William Turner."

"Turner?" he echoed. "I'll have to look him up."

"What about you? Do you have a favorite painter?"

"Not really. But I haven't seen your paintings yet," he said. "I guess I know who my favorite painter will be then."

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Did he just...? Was he flirting with you?

Before you could gather your thoughts and formulate a response, Suguru cleared his throat, breaking the spell. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Shall we go back inside?" 

You nodded.

The warmth and stale air of the bar hit you like a wall as you stepped back inside. And you might have had a bit too much to drink at this point, you realized. As you made your way back to your seats, a group of men at the bar caught Suguru's eye.

"Hey, Suguru!" one of them called out, waving him over. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight. Care to join us for a game of darts?"

Suguru hesitated, glancing at you. "I'm actually with—"

"Sure, we'd love to!" you interjected, meeting his gaze. "I love darts."

Suguru's eyebrows shot up. "You do?"

"Sure, I mean, it can't be that hard, right?"

"You sure you wanna join them? We usually bet too," he said.

"Oh, even better."

Suguru eyed you weary. He was probably already calculating the damage to his wallet if your dart-throwing skills were anything like your general clumsiness.

You made your way over to the group, and Suguru quickly introduced you. He rattled off a series of names, but honestly, they all blurred together. Tall men, some handsome, some not. All very confident. Some with questionable facial hair choices.

One of them, a tall guy with a mop of curly hair, handed you a beer, uncapped it, and raised his own in a toast. "Welcome to the crew. Suguru here doesn't usually bring company, so you must be special."

You looked over your shoulder to meet Suguru's eyes with a look that said, Oh, you really are a loner, huh? He just sighed at you in response.

"So," the curly-haired guy continued, "did you play before, or are we gonna have to go easy on you?"

You shrugged. "I'm not completely hopeless." You could practically hear Suguru's internal groan beside you.

"Alright, everyone," the curly-haired guy announced, grabbing a notepad and pen. "Let's get the bets in. We doing teams of two again?"

A chorus of eager voices responded, each man vying for the chance to challenge the new couple in the group. You and Suguru, to be exact. 

You stepped up to the dartboard. "So," you said, picking up a dart and examining it, "how exactly do you hold this thing?" A collective groan erupted from the group. Suguru's smile vanished.

Oh boy, you could practically hear him thinking, this is going to be a disaster.

One of the men, blonde hair, eager to show off, stepped forward. "Here, let me show you—"

But before he could reach you, Suguru smoothly interjected. "Allow me," he said, gently taking the dart from your hand.

He positioned himself behind you. His hand enveloped yours, his fingers warm and strong against your own. He adjusted your grip, his touch lingering on your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your lower back, a subtle yet electrifying touch that made your stomach flutter.

"Like this," he said, his voice close to your ear. "Relax your grip, focus on your target, and let it fly."

You could feel his breath on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back with each inhale and exhale. Your senses were overwhelmed — the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the soft rumble of his voice in your ear.

You struggled to focus on the dartboard, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the moment. You hadn't quite anticipated this, but you didn't hate it. 

Maybe you even... liked it.

For a moment, you forgot all about the game, the bets, the curious onlookers.

"Got it?" Suguru's voice.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed.

"Alright then," one of the guys called out, short black hair, freckles, clapping his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road!"

The men took their turns, each showcasing their varying levels of skill. Some landed their darts with precision, while others elicited groans and playful jeers from the group.

Throughout it all, Suguru remained close, his arms crossed over his broad chest, occasionally brushing against your shoulder as you observed the others' attempts. You could practically feel his tension mounting with every throw. 

Finally, it was your turn. You stepped up to the throwing line, all eyes on you, amusement and skepticism painted on their faces.

"Wait, where do I stand again?" you asked.

A few chuckles rippled through the group. You could practically hear Suguru's wallet crying in his pocket.

One of the guys, brown shoulder-length hair, stepped forward. "Bit closer here—"

But before he could reach you, you smoothly turned, your arm extending in a perfect arc. The dart flew through the air, landing with a satisfying thunk right in the bullseye.

Dead silence. 

Then, a collective gasp, followed by a chorus of disbelieving exclamations. "Bullseye!" someone shouted. "No way!" another one exclaimed.

Suguru's jaw practically hit the floor. He stared at the dartboard, then at you, like he'd never seen you before. "You—" he stammered, clearly at a loss for words. "You're good?"

You turned to face him, a grin spreading across your face. "Told you I wasn't completely hopeless." You sauntered back to Suguru, leaving the men in stunned silence. You reached for the beer he'd been holding for you, taking a long sip. "So, we're splitting the winnings 50/50, right, Doc?"

Suguru, still a bit dazed, blinked a few times before a slow grin spread across his face. "Deal."

The rest of the game was a blur of laughter, trash talk, and cheers.

Freckles-guy gave your shoulders a quick massage before your next turn. Long brown hair got you another beer. Suguru was frantically trying to keep up with your score on the notepad, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

The bar erupted when you landed another bullseye. Strangers high-fived you, and suddenly the whole place seemed to be watching. The bartender even announced a round of free shots on the house.

At one point, you ended up on Suguru's shoulders. Bullseye. You even tried throwing blindfolded, spinning around, and then letting one fly. Bullseye again. Okay, not every shot was a bullseye, but they were damn close.

Then there was that one time Suguru pulled you close, his lips brushing the top of your head in a playful kiss. You barely knew him, but even you knew that was surprising. He was so unlike the composed surgeon you'd met in his office. It threw you off so much you almost missed your next shot, but you still nailed it.

Another bullseye. Seriously.

You were about to hand off your beer to Suguru so you could take your next turn, when some large figure bumped into you, sending a wave of cold beer cascading down your front.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" a male voice exclaimed, red hair. 

You looked down at your shirt, now soaked in a sticky, amber-colored mess.

"Are you okay?" Suguru's voice. 

You looked up to see him standing protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed at the clumsy culprit.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to brush off the sticky residue. "I'll be right back." You quickly made your way to the women's restroom, leaving him standing amidst the lingering stares of curious onlookers.

Once inside the dimly lit bathroom, you assessed the damage. The sticky liquid had soaked through your shirt, leaving a large, unsightly stain right across your chest. You groaned inwardly. Of all the nights to spill a drink on yourself, you thought, it had to be tonight.

You turned on the faucet, hoping to at least rinse off some of the sticky residue. But as you dabbed at the stain with a damp paper towel, it only seemed to spread further, creating a chaotic blend of colors that resembled a modern art masterpiece gone wrong.

"Great," you muttered to yourself, throwing the soggy paper towel in the trash. "This is just perfect."

You tried blotting the stain with another paper towel, then with hand soap, then with a random assortment of toiletries you found under the sink. But nothing seemed to work. In fact, it seemed like you were only making it worse.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. Your once-put-together appearance was now a disheveled mess. Your hair was slightly damp from the frantic cleaning attempts, and your shirt looked like it had been attacked by a bear or so.

Just my luck, you thought, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

In a final act of desperation, you grabbed a wad of toilet paper and scrubbed at the stain like a madman. The flimsy fabric of your shirt, already weakened by the moisture, couldn't withstand the onslaught. With a sickening ripping sound, a small tear appeared near the neckline, rapidly expanding into a gaping hole.

You stared at the damage in disbelief. "Seriously?" you groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat. This night just keeps getting better and better.

You glanced at your watch, your eyes widening in horror. You'd been holed up in the bathroom for almost fifteen minutes. Suguru must be wondering what on earth was taking you so long.

Panic set in. 

You couldn't go back out there looking like this. Your shirt was beyond repair, and you certainly couldn't walk around half-naked in a crowded bar.

Your eyes darted around the bathroom, searching for anything that could salvage the situation. A roll of duct tape? A strategically placed safety pin? A magical fairy godmother with a sewing kit? No such luck.

Just as you were contemplating your options — which seemed to range from hiding in the bathroom forever to fashioning a makeshift bandage out of toilet paper — a gentle knock sounded on the door.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice filtered through the thin wood. "Everything alright in there?"

"Just a minute!" you called back, your voice slightly muffled as you frantically rummaged under the bathroom sink cabinet for something, anything, to help you out. In your haste, you stood up too quickly, forgetting about the low-hanging sink. Your head collided with the porcelain with a resounding thwack.

"Ow!" you yelped, clutching your head.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice was laced with concern now. "What was that? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nothing!" you lied, wincing at the throbbing pain. "Just... dropped something."

You heard the doorknob rattle, then Suguru's voice again, more insistent this time. "I'm coming in."

Before you could protest, the door swung open, revealing a worried Suguru. His eyes scanned the bathroom, taking in the scene — the ruined shirt in the sink, the damp paper towels scattered on the counter, and you, clutching your forehead with a grimace, wearing nothing but your bra and jeans.

He quickly averted his gaze. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You groaned, still clutching your head. "I hit my head on the sink. It's nothing serious, just a bump."

"Let me see," he said, cautiously turning his gaze back to you. He walked over, careful to keep his eyes focused on your face. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes were filled with concern as he examined the growing bump on your forehead.

"It's not too bad." A relieved sigh escaped his lips. "But we should probably head home and put some ice on it."

"I'm sorry, I'm such a mess," you said.

"A mess? You're a dart champion, as far as I'm concerned."

"Told you I like sports bars," you quipped, attempting a weak smile.

An awkward silence hung in the air, broken only by the muffled sounds of the bar's revelry filtering through the door. You fidgeted, acutely aware of your exposed skin and the warmth radiating from Suguru's close proximity.

"Here," he said suddenly. "Take this."

You looked up to see him pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted torso that could rival any Greek god statue. Your breath hitched in your throat, your eyes widening involuntarily. He handed you the soft cotton shirt.

You took the shirt, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand back.

"Thanks." You pulled the shirt over your head. It was warm from his body, and the scent of his cologne clung to the fabric, sandalwood and something else you couldn't quite place.

Suguru quickly slipped back into his overshirt, buttoning it up. "Better?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"Much better. Thank you."

"You know, for a future lawyer, you seem to attract a fair bit of chaos."

"It's a blessing. Or maybe a curse. I haven't quite decided yet."

"Well," he said. "It certainly makes life interesting."

You couldn't help but laugh, but the sound caught in your throat as a sharp pain throbbed through your forehead. You winced, bringing a hand to your head.

"Whoa, you okay?" Suguru asked.

"My head," you mumbled, the pain intensifying. "Think I hit it harder than I thought."

In an instant, he was all doctor again. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers cool against your flushed skin. His eyes, now serious and focused, scanned your face, searching for any signs of a concussion.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

You shook your head slightly, your gaze locked with his. You were so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was intoxicating. No, that can't be—It must be the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol.

"Just a bump," you assured him, your voice barely a whisper. "It'll be fine."

He continued his examination, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw, the curve of your cheek. His touch was gentle, yet electrifying, making your knees weak.

"You're sure?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The air between you crackled, the boundaries between doctor and patient blurring once again.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you repeated.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in closer. His face was inches from yours now, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest.

"So," he began, “what exactly did you do to your shirt to end up like this?"

You burst into laughter, the sound slightly breathless. "Oh, it's a long story."

"You really are chaotic, aren't you?" He reached out then, his fingers lightly brushing over your cheek. You took a sharp inhale.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little bit drunk, I think," he said, his gaze fixed on your lips. Oh god, why did he have to look at your lips with those perfect eyes?

You nodded, your lips parting slightly. "It's okay, I think I'm a little tipsy too." The words caught in your throat, replaced by a silent plea for him to close the remaining distance between you.

"We should probably head back inside," he said.

"Is that a question?"

"I mean... we should go back," he stammered, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

"Do you want to go back?"

"Don't ask me that."

"Why?" you whispered, leaning closer.

"You know why, attorney."

"But it's my job to get clear answers," you countered. "I can't make decisions based on mere assumptions."

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours sent a wave of heat through you, and you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze.

"I could get in serious trouble for this," he said. "A doctor and his patient..."

"Only if someone sues you," you teased. "And I'm not gonna sue you."

"How old are you again?" 

"You know how old I am."

The possibilities hung in the air, heavy, unexpected, irresistible. You reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingertips.

Suguru's breath hitched at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze stole your breath away. It was as if he'd finally surrendered to the pull between you, the last of his reservations crumbling away.

"Ah, fuck it," he said.

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. You gasped at the sudden contact, your lips parting in surprise, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours.

The kiss lit a fire in you, a heat that spread from your lips to the tips of your toes. His hands roamed your body, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head for better access, the other spreading across the small of your back to press you tightly against him.

You melted into him, your hands fisting in his shirt. He kissed you like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The room was spinning, the world tilting on its axis, and all you could focus on was the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he made you feel like nothing else existed but this moment.

His hands were everywhere, skimming over your sides, teasing the swell of your breasts through your, sorry, his shirt, leaving you gasping for more. You arched into his touch, craving more, needing to feel skin against skin.

In that moment, you didn't care about the consequences. 

Suguru's hands drifted lower, squeezing your ass, pulling you harder against him. You couldn't resist grinding against him, chasing that maddening friction, that perfect pressure right where you needed it most. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating through you.

Desperate for more, you slid your hands under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his chest, feeling the muscles twitch and flex beneath your touch. He shuddered, his abs contracting as your fingers danced over his heated skin.

Breaking the kiss, Suguru trailed his lips down your jaw, nipping and sucking as he made his way to your throat. You let your head fall back, giving him better access, a breathy moan escaping you.

"Keep making sounds like that and I won't be able to stop myself from fucking you right here," he warned.

His words made your head spin. The idea of him bending you over the sink and claiming you, right here in this dingy bathroom with a bar full of people just outside — it was reckless, stupid, the most brilliantly terrible idea you'd ever had.

"Maybe that's what I want," you dared, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, urging him on. "Maybe I want you to take me right here.”

Let's be real, you were beyond caring about propriety or the risk of getting caught. All you cared about was the man in front of you and the heat he ignited within you.

You could feel him smile against your skin. “Oh really?”

As Suguru's lips moved against yours, his hands began to explore your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into skin as he ground against you, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him.

The hard, heavy press of his erection against you made you moan into his mouth, your body arching into his. Holy shit, he was huge, you could already tell. Your knees nearly buckled at the thought of him inside you, stretching you, filling you so full you could barely breathe.

God, you needed him.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark as he reached down to fumble with the button of your jeans. You couldn't help but gasp as he finally got them open, his fingers slipping inside, seeking the warmth between your legs.

He traced the outline of your underwear, lingering on the damp patch where your arousal had already begun to soak through the material.

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groaned, his eyes closing. "Can I?"

Your eyes snapped open. "Did you seriously just ask permission to finger me?"

"I'll take that as a yes." 

Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers under the edge of your underwear and tugged it aside. The first touch of his fingers against your core made you moan. He was so warm, his skin rough and calloused in the best way as he slid two thick digits deep inside you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, your head falling back against the wall.

He pumped his fingers in and out, setting a deep, slow rhythm. The wet sounds of him finger-fucking you echoed off the bathroom tiles, along with your desperate pants and bitten-off curses. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, coating his fingers and dripping down your thighs.

Suguru captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours. It was messy and frantic, more panting into each other's mouths than any real skill, but fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever felt.

With his free hand, he grabbed hold of yours and pinned it above your head, his fingers lacing with yours. The cold press of the wall against your heated skin made you shiver, making every touch and sensation feel even more intense.

His fingers worked you mercilessly, curling and scissoring and rubbing in all the right ways. You could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast, your inner walls starting to clench around him. 

Fuck, you'd never gotten this close this quickly with anyone else, never felt so utterly fucking wrecked with just a few touches.

Just as you were teetering on the very edge, your thighs shaking and your moans picking up in pitch, the bathroom door suddenly flew open with a bang.

"Oh my god!" a startled voice yelped. "Sorry!"

Suguru immediately slipped his fingers out of you, and you scrambled to pull your jeans back up, your face on fire. The woman booked it out of there, slamming the door behind her and leaving you both in the most awkward silence of your life.

Suguru cleared his throat, taking a step back and rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have... that was way out of line."

You stared at the floor, your cheeks burning hotter than the surface of the sun. "It's fine," you said. "We're both drunk. Alcohol makes people do dumb shit."

The silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy and so fucking uncomfortable you wanted to scream. You kept replaying the kiss, the way he touched you, the feel of his fingers inside you — it sent shivers down your spine, even as shame turned your stomach to lead.

You'd never done anything like this before — making out with someone you barely knew, letting him finger-fuck you in a gross sports bar bathroom after knowing him for like, five hours. What were you thinking?

Part of you wanted to die of embarrassment, to sink through the floor and disappear forever. But another part of you didn't want this night to end. 

Suguru was exciting, different. And somehow it felt so easy. Easy to talk, easy to laugh, easy to — be yourself. And that was something you hadn't felt in a long time.

Finally, Suguru broke the silence. "We should probably get you home," he said. "We had a lot to drink, and you hit your head. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Home sounds good."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

You wanted to forget that night. 

Bury the memory of Dr. Suguru Geto's hands between your legs six feet under and never dig it up again. But no, your brain had other plans. It was like trying to unsee a particularly embarrassing video of yourself — technically possible, but your brain seemed determined to keep replaying it on loop.

Back at the law firm, you navigated the busy corridors, two steaming cups of coffee clutched in your hands. One was for Mr. Higurama, your mentor, and the other was for your own sanity.

Higurama was one of the best. Without him, you'd have bailed on this stupid internship within the first week. He was meticulous, dedicated, and knew the law like the back of his hand. But he was also, let's be honest, a bit strange.

He'd rather spend his weekends reading dusty old legal texts than having a life. And his obsession with obscure legal trivia was — something else. He'd drop those obscure historical law facts that left everyone scratching their heads. 

Maybe that's why you two clicked. You were both the oddballs in a sea of perfectly polished lawyers.

As you rounded the corner, you spotted him — the intern whose name you could never remember, but who you'd mentally dubbed "Chad" for his obnoxious attitude and perfectly-gelled hair. He was strutting towards you, his tailored suit and smug grin practically screaming "I'm better than you."

"Well, well, well," he drawled. "Look who's playing coffee delivery girl."

He reached out a hand, expecting you to hand over one of the cups. You sidestepped him. "Nice try, Chad," you retorted, continuing your walk towards Mr. Higurama's office.

You could hear his indignant huff behind you. "That's not my name!"

You just rolled your eyes and kept walking, a smile tugging at your lips. Whatever, Chad, you thought to yourself. His name is the least of your problems right now.

You knocked lightly on Mr. Higurama's door, a nervous flutter returning to your stomach. Even after weeks, you still couldn't shake the feeling of being a fish out of water in this fancy law firm.

"Come in!" Mr. Higurama's voice called out.

You pushed open the door, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of your mentor. He was buried under a mountain of paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up with a start as you entered.

"Oh, hey," he said, blinking in surprise. "You're a lifesaver. I was just about to send someone out for a caffeine fix."

He glanced at his watch, his expression suddenly turning serious. "Oh shit, we're running late," he said, scrambling to gather the scattered papers on his desk. "We need to leave for that client meeting in five minutes."

"No problem," you said, trying to sound calm despite the sudden rush. "I'm ready."

You walked over to his desk, carefully balancing the coffee cups in one hand. As you reached for a stack of files, your foot caught on the corner of the rug, sending you stumbling forward. The coffee cup lurched in your hand, its contents splashing onto the neatly organized papers on Mr. Higurama's desk.

You froze, the coffee dripping from the once-pristine documents. 

Higurama looked up at you, his face a mask of — well, you weren't sure what. This wasn't the first time you'd pulled a stunt like this.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose,” you said.

But before you knew it, you were in the car. No time to reprint the papers, apparently. With a resigned sigh, Higurama quickly gathered the damp forms, and you both rushed out to his car.

The drive was filled with a tense silence. You wanted to disappear into the car seat, your embarrassment a heavy weight on your chest. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore.

"So," you ventured cautiously, "what's this client meeting about?"

"We're going to the hospital," he said. "A group of doctors is in a bit of a... difficult situation."

"Oh, is it related to a patient?"

Higurama let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Don't ask," he said, his tone more tired than annoyed.

You shrank back into your seat, deciding to keep your mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

Higurama led you through a maze of corridors, his footsteps echoing on the polished linoleum floor of the hospital. Though you were somewhat familiar with the building from your visits to Dr. Gojo, this particular wing was kind of new to you. 

As you approached the meeting room, you could hear the muffled sounds of a heated discussion. Higurama paused, straightening his tie and composing his features into his usual stoic mask.

You were kind of freaking out. A case involving doctors? That was new. Seemed unusual for Higurama too, since you both usually dealt with international affairs. Must be a special case. Higurama pushed open the door, and you stepped into the conference room.

And then you saw him.

No, them — both of them.

Dr. Gojo.

And Suguru.

They were sitting at the far end of the table, Suguru's arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Your heart lurched in my chest, surprise and mortification flooding through you.

Oh my god, you thought. He's one of the doctors.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. The man you'd nearly fucked in that filthy bathroom just a few nights ago, the man whose lips you could still feel on yours — was now your client. The embarrassment of the situation threatened to swallow you whole, and you desperately wished you could disappear into thin air.

Suguru and Dr. Gojo were locked in a heated debate. Their voices rose and fell, words a flurry of medical words and frustrated exclamations.

"That's why we should do biomarkers that could help identify patients at higher risk," Gojo said.

"We can't ignore the data," Suguru countered. "The preliminary results show a significant increase in CAR-T cell persistence with the modified construct. We need to investigate this further."

"But the neurotoxicity risk," Gojo argued, his tone equally firm. "We can't overlook the potential complications. We need to refine the targeting strategy, minimize off-target effects."

"We can address those concerns in subsequent phases," Suguru argued back. "We can't afford to stall progress."

The argument escalated, their voices echoing through the room. Dr. Gojo stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He strode to the whiteboard, scribbling something furiously with a marker. They still hadn't noticed you.

You wanted to flee, to crawl into a hole and die. You took a step back, then another, ready to make a run for it, but Higurama's hand shot out, gripping your blazer and holding you in place. He gave you a look that said he wanted to flee just as much as you did.

Oh god, please let this be over soon.

Suddenly, Higurama cleared his throat.

Both doctors turned around, surprise plastered on their faces as they noticed you and Higurama standing there. Suguru's eyes met yours for a split second, and you could practically feel the awkwardness radiating off of him before you quickly looked away. The knot in your stomach tightened.

Dr. Gojo, however, recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Oh, hey. Didn't expect to see you here too."

You managed a weak smile. "Hello, Dr. Gojo."

"How have you been feeling?" Gojo asked you. "Any side effects from the medication?"

"Fine," you replied curtly. "No problems."

Gojo's gaze lingered on you for a moment. "And how's Suguru treating you? Is he taking good care of you?"

God, please have mercy on me, you thought, your cheeks burning even hotter. But before you could answer, Suguru quickly interjected, his voice firm. "Perhaps we should get started with the meeting."

Higurama gestured towards the empty chairs around the table. "Shall we sit down?"

You all took your seats, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a scalpel. Higurama cleared his throat again, his gaze sweeping across the room. "I believe we all know why we're here today," he began, his tone professional and matter-of-fact.

"Actually, we don't," Gojo deadpanned. "Yaga didn't tell us anything."

Higurama looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die. Same, you thought.

"There have been some... concerns raised regarding professional conduct within the university," Higurama finally managed to say.

Suguru and Gojo made a face in unison.

You reached into Mr. Higurama's briefcase, pulling out the stack of papers he'd entrusted you with. As you pulled them out, you couldn't help but notice the faint coffee stains marrying the edges. Your cheeks flushed even deeper.

But then your eyes landed on the content of the paper.

It wasn't a complex legal case or a malpractice lawsuit, as you had initially feared. Instead, you were faced with a series of brightly colored pamphlets titled “Maintaining Professional Boundaries”.

The pages were filled with cartoon illustrations and bullet points detailing appropriate conduct with students, patients and colleagues. There were even sections on how to avoid gossip in the workplace, with a handwritten note scrawled in the margin that basically said, "Don’t fuck with students, Gojo" in a slightly more professional way. Higurama's handwriting, for sure.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. 

The girl Gojo always talked about, the one he was always going on and on about marrying—she was a student. He'd been sleeping with a student this whole time. Oh my god. How inappropriate. You could never imagine hooking up with one of your professors. 

But now that you think about it — someone in the glass house shouldn't throw stones, as they say.

Anyway, a wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over you as you placed the papers in front of the doctors. Even Higurama seemed to shrink in his seat. The silence in the room was deafening as Suguru and Gojo scanned the documents. You could practically hear crickets chirping.

Finally, Higurama cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the situation. “As I was saying,” he began, his voice strained, “we all know why we’re here today.”

All eyes immediately snapped to Gojo. “Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that,” he said. Suguru let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples. Then, Gojo's gaze fell upon the stack of papers in front of him. "Besides, why is there coffee on those documents?"

Every head in the room swiveled towards you. 

You quickly looked away.

The rest of the meeting was, to put it mildly, awkward as hell. Higurama tried his best to maintain a professional facade as he soldiered on with the presentation, highlighting the importance of maintaining professional boundaries. 

You couldn't help but squirm in your seat as he droned on about appropriate conduct and the dangers of crossing the line. With every mention of "patient confidentiality" and "avoiding dual relationships," your mind flashed back to that night at the bar. 

Suguru's hands on your waist, his lips on yours. You were sure your face was burning a bright shade of crimson. You risked a glance at Suguru, but he was staring intently at the table, his expression carefully blank.

Gojo tried to lighten the mood with a few well-timed jokes, but you guessed he was uneasy, too. You noticed him scratching his arm from time to time, a nervous tic you'd never seen before. Suguru, on the other hand, remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the presentation materials, though you could sense his discomfort.

You couldn't help but wonder what Suguru was thinking. Was he regretting that night at the bar as much as you were starting to? Did he see you differently now?

Finally, the meeting mercifully ended. 

Gojo stood up. "Higurama, can we talk for a second?" Higurama sighed, but reluctantly followed him out of the room, leaving you alone with Suguru.

A tense silence descended upon the room. You avoided Suguru's gaze, focusing instead on the white walls. But you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Did you ice it?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

Silence returned.

It felt like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Unable to bear the stillness any longer, you stood up, clutching your bag tightly. "Well, I should probably get going."

"Wait," Suguru's voice stopped you mid-escape. "About the other night. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken things so far."

You turned back to face him. "No, it's okay. It was... nice." Nice? Did you really just describe the hottest makeout session of your life as 'nice'? What were you, a Victorian maiden?

"Nice?" he echoed, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly attractive way of his.

"I mean... It was good. Really good," you clarified, somehow making it even worse. "You're a great kisser and..." you trailed off, wanting to crawl under the table and die.

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, you tried to make another break for it, only to be halted by Suguru's hand wrapping around your wrist. His grip was gentle but firm, sending sparks shooting up your arm.

You spun back around to find him towering over you. Damn him for being so tall. And for looking so good in his dress shirt and vest and tie under that crisp white doctor's coat. It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you come before we were interrupted," he said, sounding so genuinely apologetic you almost laughed. Almost. If this whole situation wasn't so mortifyingly awkward.

"Oh my god, please don't say that."

"I just want you to know, I don't usually do things like that."

"Like what? Not make women come? Wow, what a gentleman."

"No, I meant—" He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not really one for hookups in general."

Oh god, why are you having this conversation now, here, with Higurama and Dr. Gojo just outside? "Okay, cool. Thanks for letting me know." You tried once again to subtly tug your wrist from his grip.

But Suguru held fast, his thumb rubbing absently over your racing pulse. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're worried about. I liked it. Spending time with you. A lot.”

You stared at him, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. He likes spending time with you? What did that even mean?

"Uh," you began. "You don't?"

"No, I don't." His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn't let go. "I was just surprised. It felt... good."

Good? You blinked. Good? What did ‘good’ in this context even mean? But then again, it had felt pretty damn good.

"And you're a great kisser too," he mirrored your words.

"Thanks." Thanks? Did you really just say thanks? And then, because your brain apparently decided to abandon all sense of self-preservation, you blurted out, "And you have great fingers."

Your face erupted in a fiery blush, and you wished you could disappear into the floor. My God, why couldn't you just shut up for once in your life?

Suguru's lips twitched into a smirk. "Thanks," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "We should do it again sometime."

"Yeah, totally." The words tumbled out before you could stop them. You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as the desert. Play it cool, play it cool. "I think we would be quite good together. At sex, I mean. Wait, no—" You stumbled over your words, your hands flailing helplessly as you tried to backpedal.

"I meant the sports bar," Suguru clarified, barely containing his amusement.

"Oh yeah, me too," you said quickly, too quickly. "The sports bar. Where we... watch sports. And drink beer—"

Then the door creaked open and Higurama stepped back into the room. You both immediately moved apart. Higurama glanced at you. "Are you ready to go back to the office?"

You nodded.

Thank god it was over.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: hello again !! hope you didn't die bc of cringe this chapter, as our dear reader certainly brings a touch of chaotic energy to the story. and i want to express my gratitude for all the wonderful comments and messages you've been leaving. they never fail to brighten my day. & thank you again tasha for helping me out with this chapter. check out her work here. <3

don't have much else to add at this point, so whether you're reading this in the middle of the day or late at night, i wish you all the best. thank you for your continued support and love :)

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @ri-sa20 @biancaness @roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue

@starmapz @alwaysfreakingout @totallytatum @shervinss @elliesndg

@lulureblogstuff @mylovelessnightmare @myahfig4 @shesplendl @mua-for-now

@yoghurtbrand @midnightsaugust @nanasukii28 @drakenswifeyy @maeveontherun

@4k0taro @ineednanamikento

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[batfam-my-beloved]

AU where Batman has a "no killing" rule but that only applies to Batman

Bruce understands that people have their own form of morality and justice. He's not going to fault a soldier for doing what they have to do to protect people. It's just that he personally would probably never go that far. Not that he can't, mind you, he's fucking Batman! Just that the mental and emotional toll would fuck him up so bad he'd be a danger to himself and society.

So when it comes to his murder happy children his rule for them is: "Wait until you're 18."

Bruce: "Dickie, I know Tony Zucco killed your parents and he deserves WAY worse than a punctured lung, two broken legs, a fractured skull, and a dislocated shoulder. But you're also 10 yrs old and the parenting books say that murder at such a young age is not good for a child's emotional development. So how bout we keep him locked up in jail, good and tight, and if you're still mad about it when you turn 18 then you can have at it. Sound good chum?"

Dick, pouting and kicking rocks: "I guess."

Tim "forever 17" Drake is just counting down the days until his 18th birthday because that mother fucker has a list. He doesn't mind waiting because he god damn knows there are worse things than death one can do to someone.

Damien has been killing since he could walk and hold up a sword, so when he comes to live with his father under the "no killing until 18" rule he is NOT happy about it. Until his brothers start poking fun at him.

Damien, pouting: "It isn't fair! Todd gets to go out and kill people!"

Bruce: "Jason is over 18 yrs."

Jason: "Yeah! And besides, its not my fault you're just uncreative in how you beat up bad guys!"

Damien: "What is that supposed to mean!"

Tim: "It means that there are worse things than death but you're just too dumb to know it."

Damien, furious: "Am not!"

Jason and Tim, teasing: "Are too!"

Damien: "AM NOT!"

Jason and Tim: "Are tooooo!"

Dick, tired: "Guys, stop making fun of him. He's just gunna take it as a challenge."

Damien, determined: "Well I accept this challenge! I'll provide my superiority as a vigilantly by taking out the enemy in non-lethal yet appropriately brutal ways of punishment! Just you watch!"

Bruce, weary yet appeased: "Well at least he's not gunna attempt murder for a while."

Jason didn't come with an automatic kill switch so Bruce didn't really have to worry about it. But then Jason died and Dick got to see first hand as to why Bruce had a no killing rule for himself. The insurmountable destruction, the overall apathy for the harm to others around him, the deep seated rage ready to just destroy everything he comes in contact with. Alfred tells Dick that they need to stop him because Bruce won't just stop at the Joker, he'll go after Jason's mother (in this au I'm making Sheila live for the extra angst factor)and whoever else he deems even remotely responsible for the death of his son. Bruce won't care if it starts wars and conflict across nations, he will NOT stop until he gets his revenge.

So they stop him, practically have to sedated Bruce with enough tranquilizers to put down an elephant 10x over. And then they lock the Joker up in the deepest underground pits of Arkham with a broken spine and enough security measures that it's very much impossible to brake him out least you're the Batman himself. Bruce isn't happy about it at first but Alfred and Dick are there with him through it all and it helps a lot.

When Jason comes back he still doesn't know about the "no killing until your 18" rule, nor does he know the reason WHY Batman doesn't kill. So he's still angry and does his whole thing as Red Hood but when he reveals himself to Batman as Jason Todd Bruce is just so happy to see him again. And Jason is confused cuz like: "I just killed a bunch of people, aren't you disappointed?"

And Bruce is like: "I am a bit mad that you hurt Tim but other than that you are technically over 18 yrs old now so I'm going to assume you understand the weight and responsibility that is put upon you when killing someone."

Jason, softly: "What...the fuck?"

Then Jason quickly snaps back into gear with his plan, demands Bruce to choose between killing the Joker or him and Bruce hits back with: "Oh, I'd like nothing more than to kill Joker but I promised Dick and Alfred I wouldn't after almost starting an international war that one time."

Jason, extremely frustrated that his plan isn't going how he wanted to: "What. The. Fuck!"

So Jason dips and tracks down Dick so he could explain what the hell was going on. And Dick does explain. He explains the absolute monster Bruce almost turned into when Jason was murdered and how Bruce would most definitely not stop at the Joker if given the chance.

Dick: "You don't understand Jay, it was bad! Like really, really bad! He was going to kill your mom!"

Jason, shocked: "The fuck?!"

Dick: "He still has her on a tracker! We found him just before he killed Joker, but he still managed to paralyze him from the neck down!"

Jason, slightly disturbed: "That was him!"

Dick: "He was beating Joker's ass with a crowbar! And even after we managed to sedated Bruce and pull him off the clown we still had to make sure that Joker was locked up good and tight underground because if Bruce even caught a glimpse of him in a photo he'd go into another spiral!"

Jason, horrified: "What....the fuuuuuck???"

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELSS -II - I DON'T CARE 'BOUT CONSEQUENCES, I WANT MY LICK BACK

« previous part

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

II - I DON'T CARE 'BOUT CONSEQUENCES, I WANT MY LICK BACK

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Mature themes and its 🌶 🌶 🌶 

Summary: The title says it all.

You step one good in front of the other. You can feel your pulse in your throat. Hear it in your ears. Your palms are hot and anger is what’s fuelling you. You keep walking. A patron swings the door open and you scan the establishment. The venue is different to the previous restaurant, less upscale and easier to disappear into. You’re looking for one person and one person only. Sighing out of frustration you head to the bar, a bartender materializes in front of you in a minute.

“Is Rio here?” You ask.

“Anything to drink?” He asks.

Letting out a long sigh you take a look over the top shelf contemplating it. “Nothing for now, is he in?” You ask liable to blow any minute now and the bartender steps away whispering something to another. You watch closely as they disappear. You feel like breaking dishes, trashing the house and vandalising the car. You wish you could scream.

“He’s upstairs” the bartender says, snapping you from your daydream. Standing, you head up the long staircase. You emerge into an office with a Birds Eye view of the establishment. Rio is sitting in the middle of it behind a wooden desk with money piled high on the corner of it. His calm is in stark contrast to the mania you’re feeling.

“Let me guess, you want to commit a murder” he says breaking the silence with his naturally cool demeanour and that distinct voice. 

“Don’t mock me” you warn and he smiles, pouring a glass and setting it in front of you as you take a seat on the couch in the sprawling space. You take a sip only for the liquor to burn your throat due to inexperience. You make a face and the liquor quells your temper a touch. When your eyes reopen Rio’s amusement is clear as day. You spent three hours getting ready for date night the night you met Rio. Your husband's new role at work was demanding and there’d been distance so you were trying to mend fences and reignite a spark. He’d left and for your pride you picked at what was left of your food from the bar. Rio had been forward antagonistic and amusing, but he hadn't lied.

“Don’t be too mad, she’s not sexier than you are” he says sipping from your glass.

“We’ve been married five years,” you confess to the stranger. Anyone else and your life would be blown up forever. 

“No kids?” he asks.

“Not yet, kids are a part of the ten year plan” you confess meeting Rio’s eyes. You have nowhere else to go. No one else to talk to. Sometimes secrets are safest with a stranger. He holds out the glass again and you take a shot of the brown liquor feeling the burn.

“Ten year plan, where the fuck do you find a guy like that?” Rio muses at your expense. Sighing deeply you look down into the club's festivities as people start to dance. “How’d you find out? She came to you as a woman?”

“Worse, I saw it on his phone. Text thread full of nudes and videos…” you sigh wishing you could unsee the messages from both ends. It was clear your husband was absolutely feral for another woman and vice versa.

“So you’re here to have him killed or beat up or what?” Rio asks, misreading you.

“No” you respond not wanting someone to get a charge for your husband's poor choices.

“Then how can I help you? It’s getting late.” Rio says draining the glass. Your time is up for his thin patience.

“I told you we can’t hang out because I’m married.” You respond by holding up your left hand. The ring is on your dresser at home. 

“So you want me to fuck you as get back. But if we start you’re not gonna want him and I’m not marriage material” Rio says candidly. 

“Perfect” you smile liking the sound of that. You’re going to make your husband pay for his recklessness and absence. You imagine the shock when it hits him that Rio has had you. The thrill is your medicine. It’s the only thing that quells the pain of your husband's betrayal.

“Bet” Rio stands holding out a hand. You take a deep breath taking it as you stand. You use another staircase to a back entrance. You hate the city a little less from inside of his G-Wagon. The ride to his place is short. The home is too perfect to be his home.

“Is this where you bring all your girls?” You ask.

“Mhm” he nods. His honesty is a relief. 

“Where’s the bedroom?” you ask, trying to get your bearings.

“I don’t do crazy, you don’t show up at my job or here if we do this” Rio sets a boundary misunderstanding how your pride works.

“Understood” you nod. He closes the space between you with a raised brow.

“But do you?” He asks as you crane your neck back to meet his gaze.

“Mhm” you nod.

“Yes or no,” he asks, putting his hands in his pockets. For some reason it makes you want his touch.

“Yes” 

“Good, because you're beautiful and I want to do this” he says.

Feeling unsteady you stop yourself from getting lost in his brown eyes. “I don’t do crazy either. You stay out of my relationship outside of when I come to you”.

He smiles, “I dont have the time sweetheart, I have my own shit.”

“C'mere,” Rio says, stepping back. You indulge his cat and mouse game. “Last chance to run, or stay and give him hell” he smiles clearly the devil on your shoulder. Just the thought of James losing it is fuel enough for you to place a palm on Rio’s chest. His smirk is golden and all hesitation ceases. He lowers in a flash, lips crashing into yours. His mouth claims yours pulling back with hard suction like he’s trying to drag the nasty out of you. He’s artful with it and unlike James it’s so hot your brain overrides instinct when his hand holds your neck possessively to get better leverage. You feel your body relax, your mouths sync and the feverishness settles into something slower and more seductive. His tongue crowds your mouth before he goads yours into a dance. You find yourself moaning as he sucks your bottom lip before dragging his teeth gently down your neck. His other hand supports your back while his thumb rubs circled into your hardening nipples. You feel yourself pooling from his touch. Under his grip.

“What a clown, to play with a woman as bad as you” Rio mutters, turning you on even more.

 “Tell me how you want me to take care of you baby?” He asks, pouring fire on the blaze he’s set. Your eyes open to him, your breathing levels out and you look to him for guidance. His lips find yours again. This time the kiss is reassuring and gentle, his hold loosens.

 “Tell me how you want me to fuck you mama” he whispers against your ear and you sigh. “He’s never asked you that huh?” Rio scoffs a smirk falling on his lips. “Shame some men treat their wives like the Virgin Mary when they just want to be slut out. That’s what you want right? I ain’t ya man you don’t have to pretend to be a good girl with me” he taunts. Disgustingly right once again. You find yourself nodding before it can register. He takes you to the bedroom and dims the lights sensing you’re nervous. His shirt comes off and his toned frame is a refreshing change from James who spends several hours a week in the gym.

“I thought you’d have more tattoos” you reflect as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“You have any?” He asks as you straddle him.

“Not one” you smile feeling a little more comfortable. His hands slide under your shirt ridding you of it. He can’t fathom what the fuck your man’s problem was. Why did he cheat so openly when he clearly had more than he could effectively handle at home. You get lost in another kiss with him that ends with his head between your legs.

He’s so good that he’ll always be the person you’re comparing James to. He holds nothing back fully attentive to your every moan like it’s second nature. Your effects on each other are electric. You are both trying to bring the other to their peak without inhibitions or restrictions. He talks you through your orgasm praising you like you’ve accomplished something monumental. You lay at his side catching your breath needing more. It’s like a switch has been flipped and the dam of your desire has been opened. All the neglect coming to a head. You feel hellish as he tosses the used protection. Reaching over you stroke his manhood. Rio watches in awe not expecting it. His eyes close from the sensation following an already incredible orgasm. He kisses you rolling onto his side, rolling onto yours you hold your leg over him guiding him back into you slowly.

“Fuck” he groans once fully sheathed. It’s a final fuck you to James. 

“Come inside me” you plead and Rio nods kissing you deep before obliging completely turned on by the levels of fucked up. He could say no to pussy but not yours. He knew that now in you raw, there’d never be another way and pulling out wouldn’t be an option. Instinct kicks in and his thrusts pick up.

“Don’t stop” you continue getting you right at your spot. His size is perfect, it’s the perfect rhythm, the perfect feeling. 

“Like that?” he asks.

“Rio” you moan, finding comfort in your voice.

“Shit” he groans, closing his eyes firmly to remain in control. He could feel the tension building in him from the slickness and suction of your walls. 

“Right there” you moan loving every second of it. And you feel him inside you. The warmth of his climax fills you before overflowing. Rio looks to see his work completely spent. Fucking another man’s wife raw was a first for him. Enjoying it as much as he had was a surprise. He doesn’t pull out right away leaning it in as you lean in needy for a kiss. He obliges doing another first when he doesn’t send you home right away.

…

Rio leans against the counter watching as you take the plan b. It’s another first there’s been no scares during the course of your relationship. Once you finish he places the glass in the dishwasher.

“Want me to drop you home?” He asks as you turn your phone back on. You see thirty missed calls starting at one in the morning all from James.

“I gotta go,” you smile.

“Need a ride?” he asks.

“To the club, sure, that’s where my car is” you tell him and he grabs his keys happily to oblige.

“When’s the last time you let him hit?” Rio asks.

“Two maybe three months” you tell Rio honestly and he laughs.

“Don’t let him, call me if you need some” he says handing you his phone. You give him your number. “Text me if things get crazy. I don’t need anything crazy happening after we just had sex” he says and you laugh.

“Will do” you nod, getting out of his car and into yours.

» next part

Authour's Note: Sound off in the comments, I want to hear what you guys think happens next. THANKS FOR READING AND AS ALWAYS LIKE, COMMENT & REBLOG.

[cultofdixon]

Little one had other plans

Rick Grimes • She/Her Pronouns • Timing is never perfect when it comes to babies coming into the world. Rick just wished the group wasn’t…homeless when his baby decided to make an entrance • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / Anxiety / Unbearable pain

A/N: Really bare with me and TWD timeline

Requested by: Anon

“Rick?” Her voice brought the retired sheriff out of his slumber as he carefully sits up from their shared bed.

“Yes darling?” Rick smiles moving aside for Y/N to sit with him as she instantly locked their arms bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. “Are you feeling alright? Missed yea this morning”

“Uhm. I know we just…hitched and we didn’t talk about certain things especially given it’s the apocalypse and Lori but…”

“Y/N. Please just say it”

“I’m pregnant”

Rick’s silence only brewed the fear and anxiety within Y/N as she was about to pull away when he shifted so that he could pull her entire person into his embrace.

“Are you upset?” Y/N frowns holding onto her husband as he started to rub soothing circles on her back feeling her relax. “Rick—-“

“We’re just…so in love with each other that we couldn’t contain it all.” Rick whispers feeling her tighten around him as he did the same. “So we made another person out of that love” he held her as she sobbed in his embrace.

“We’re happy about this?”

“More than happy darling. We’re safe here. I can’t wait for this chapter with you” Rick smiles bringing his lips to her temple keeping her close as the two wouldn’t separate for a while longer.

~

But the luxury of the prison never lasted…

When Rick reunited with Daryl on the road, after dealing with the claimers…the archer brought it up. Brought up the thought that Y/N could be dead and being met with Rick’s silence was his answer meaning he didn’t want to even think about it.

“We’ll find’em.” Daryl states watching Rick turn to him slowly with a low expression before looking away. “She’s a fighter. May be the size of a planet currently but you know she ain’t leavin’ this earth without fighting to get back to you”

“Did yea just call my wife a planet?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Just shut up and let’s follow the train tracks once Michonne and Carl got some rest”

We will find them

And they do. Thankfully not in the mess of Terminus and Rick was extra thankful after hearing a few things about the cannibals that quickly met their end in the chapel later on.

The Grimes boys will forever be thankful to Tyreese with saving Judith and for both him and Carol finding Y/N moments after the two had found each other. Rick handed his daughter to his son quickly but gentle for Carl to get a good hold of her before he ran over to his partner bringing her in his embrace.

“Thank god you’re alive” Y/N sobbed out as she held onto Rick the best she could given the space they didn’t have. Rick pulled away from the embrace to kiss her firmly on the lips before bringing his gaze to her belly and placing his hands on it. “That’s also a bonus…”

“What? The baby kicking?” Rick asks while his gaze still focused on her bump.

“Yeah…Baby hasn’t kicked since the prison fell. Guess it missed its daddy” She breathed out a laugh listening to his follow in suit. He pressed his forehead against hers still staying in this moment as no one dared to interrupt.

The cannibals

The hospital

Beth…

Tyreese…

So many things could’ve been avoided and now the remaining group found themselves struggling with the fact that this could be the end if they don’t find anything. By anything the essentials for survival. Daryl did his best to hunt what he could find but nothing was turning up. The creek within the forest didn’t carry enough water like they hoped when they first planned to check. But Rosita boiled what they could draw up and insisted it be given to Y/N which the peanut gallery didn’t protest.

“Rick we need to prepare for the worse cause scenario” Carol pulled him aside as the group continued its tiresome walk to nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“She could go into labor. She is that pregnant where it could just happen without any of us prepared. We need to at least somewhat be”

“Or what?”

Carol didn’t say another word and only gave her friend a stressful look littered with fear of losing Y/N to this pregnancy like they did with Lori’s. They wouldn’t know what to do if Y/N needed a c-section or if she lost a lot of blood. Anything could happen and it didn’t take words for Rick to know he could lose the love of his life.

________

Y/N laid tiredly on the makeshift bed in their shared cell as she hasn’t been able to keep anything down for a few weeks. Typical morning sickness but Hershel had his worry about dehydration, not like Carl hasn’t been hovering making sure his stepmom had water. Rick asked him to keep an eye on her and his baby sister when he tended the garden but he didn’t need to be asked to do such. The two grew close when Lori passed and if she would do anything for Carl, he’d do anything for her.

“If your dad is making you hover. You don’t have to” Y/N said almost exhausted as she sat up in the bed when Carl was once peaking from the curtain now fully entering the cell with another canteen.

“Dad didn’t tell me anything. I’m allowed to check on you if I want to”

“I should be checking on you. You don’t have to worry about me” She states patting the empty space beside her while moving the blankets to cover her legs. “I’m okay”

“I know…b-but I want to…I don’t want to miss anything”

Y/N gave him a confused look gently making Carl look at her as he tried to cover his face with his hat. But then Y/N took his hat off lifting his chin to find his tears.

“Carl…love, what’s wrong?”

“I-I…” Carl choked up a bit feeling Y/N carefully wipe away his tears whenever they spilled from his waterline. “I don’t want to lose you too. I didn’t see…a-anything before and I just—-“

“Carl. We couldn���t have predicted what happened to your mom to have happen and I’m always so deeply sorry you lost her.” Y/N gently held his face feeling him ease into her touch letting her wipe away his tears. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but I will promise you. I’m going to be okay”

“But you can’t…you can’t promise something like that”

“I’m going to anyway. I’m going to take good care of myself and this baby, knowing damn well my boys are going to help me. I’m not going anywhere love…I’m going to be okay”

________

Something didn’t feel right.

Y/N had tried not to think much of the growing pain in her stomach as she thought it was the lack of food in her system or the mild dehydration she was reaching.

Then when the mysterious water appeared and the debate of drinking such was washed away in the little sense of the rain pouring down on them. Her distressed expression matched those who’ve lost since the fall of the prison hence no one second guessed the feelings. Until Carl took note of it.

“Are you okay?”

“Just a little uncomfortable. Keep her covered or she’ll get a cold” Y/N fixed the coat she was once wearing to cover Judith better as Carl took his hat off to cover her head.

“Are you really sure that’s all mo—-Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m—-“ She stopped herself reaching for Rick grabbing his bicep harshly to indicate how much pain she was in as he quickly addressed the matter bringing her close. “R-Rick I think. I think the baby is coming”

“Well that couldn’t have been poorly timed” Eugene commented only for Abraham to smack him upside the head. “You have any better idea where the pregnant woman should have her baby? In the middle of the road with the rain pouring down on us and unable to see the walkers when nightfall approaches”

“Someone shut his mouth” Rick snapped watching Glenn push Eugene out of the Grimes’ line of sight as Abraham and Rosita blocked his view.

“Nah we got somewhere. Saw a barn on my way back to y’all after searching for water” Daryl states before leading the way as Rick didn’t hesitate to pick up his partner bridal style following the archer along with the others following shortly behind.

Once they got in the barn, everything had to happen again. Going in all different directions. Maggie and Carol took care of getting Y/N situated, prepared while Carl took care of watching Judith while the others swarmed respectfully on the other side of the half wall to give Y/N some privacy while she stripped from the waist down.

“Tell me how you’re feeling. Especially if there’s major changes” Carol stated watching Y/N nod trying to take deep breaths feeling Rick gently brush the hair out of the way of her face watching her look at him through anxious tears.

“Your baby will come perfect okay, okay? Nothing wrong will happen” Maggie’s choice of words confused those who weren’t there when they lost Lori, and especially how they lost her. No one questioned. All the focus was making sure that baby comes out okay while protecting everybody.

It felt like a cue. When the walkers came a banging on the barn doors resulting in almost every muscle they’ve got keeping them closed, Y/N was already in the motions of pushing this baby out only for a smooth sailing to reach a jammed complication.

“H-Hurts. Hurts so much!” Y/N shouted as the growling tuned it out except for Maggie and Carol’s ears as they both were checking what is happening. The baby’s shoulder is stuck and in a perfect world they’d have the tools or the operating room to go to that nuclear option of a c-section. Something they didn’t want to do.

“Y/N you have to stop pushing”

“O-O…I…” Y/N sobbed listening to Carol’s words as she gripped onto the blanket she laid on not finding the words to ask for her husband but the anxiety growing in the situation made Maggie shout.

“Rick we need yea!” That caused a few head turns as the pounding shifted the weaker few against the door.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Rick instantly asks, taking Y/N’s hand into his feeling the bone crushing grip she was producing as he kept his ground a straight face for her.

“Baby is stuck”

“I have a plan but if it doesn’t go well, we could lose them both” Maggie frowns, remembering an old conversation back from the prison with her father about breached babies and if it ever happened to her then one would have to reach into her while another pushed down on her belly to help the baby progress.

“Take me through it. We’ve got this” Carol states turning to Y/N and her worried expression. “Scream. Scream it out. Everybody’s got our back and you will make it. You both will make it”

The growling grew louder along with the blood curdling screaming as Michonne brought Carl into her arms covering his ears while the two kept their ground against the door. He sobbed listening to his mom’s screaming and those from the beginning of the prison sanctuary were all feeling the old anxiety bubble up inside them.

But once it settled…the growling faded and the anxiety dissipated…the screaming stopped…

Rick pressed his lips to Y/N’s feeling the tears roll off his cheeks as he pulls away to look at their baby boy laying on her chest calming instantly to the soft touch his mother brought with the finger grazes.

“He’s perfect…”

“You did it, darling” Rick exhales a chuckle, kissing her forehead and bringing her close keeping his coat to cover their baby keeping him comfortable in her arms.

“We’re okay” Y/N felt the tears pour as she laughs the anxiety out bringing her gaze to her son when he brought himself to look at his brother. “We are okay, like I promised”

Carl felt the tears return in his eyes as Y/N tiredly reaches to wipe away his tears. Rick smiles at the gentle act admiring his little family as he made this declaration a long time ago…

But he’ll never let anything happen to his family.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"I'm Sorry" - BurningCheese Short #9

Gonna be traveling somewhere soon, probably won't be back here for a few days. Wanted to leave you all with a story before I go. (I wrote it sometime ago, I've just been waiting for a good time to drop it. I guess now will do haha)

Plan on answering asks and posting BurningCheese kids when I get back (I have almost 100 asks in my inbox and I feel really bad for leaving them there. I'm genuinely sorry to you all, I actually am reading what you send me, I promise I won't leave you hanging forever. I answered a couple today and I'll keep it up soon). In the meantime, eat this short story where we see our favorite couple take an important step together, and Burning Spice take an important step himself

"I'm sorry."

Golden Cheese blinked. "I... Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Burning Spice said again.

"You're sorry?" she echoed. "Sorry for... what?"

He paused for a long while before he answered. "For Beast-Yeast."

"For Beast-Yeast?" Slowly, she turned to face him, eyeing him critically. "And where is this coming from, exactly?"

"Why does it matter?" Burning Spice asked, keeping his gaze trained on the bustling city far below. "I am sorry. That is all I have to say."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And... what? You think that means anything? You think one, single apology will change the past? You think it's enough to atone for all of your heinous crimes?"

"No."

"Then what audacity is this? Why even say it?"

"Because I want to," he said. "It's as simple as that."

Another long pause, longer than the last, came and went before Golden Cheese spoke up again. "Why should I even believe you when you say such words?" she asked. "What reason do I have to think you're being sincere?"

"Someone such as I saying it at all ought to be reason enough. You think I'd ever utter something so soft and pathetic to anyone else, for any reason? Even under penalty of death?"

"...Hmph."

A third pause came - shorter than the first two, because Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to wait any longer than that.

"And what makes you think I forgive you? Or that I would ever even consider doing so?"

"You allowed me into your kingdom," he said, still refusing to look at her. "Into your palace, even. Here we stand together, watching your subjects from afar. You snuck me in so no one would see or notice me. Perhaps you don't forgive me at all... but you've let go enough that you've allowed yourself to do this much. Haven't you?"

"I..."

The fourth pause made itself known, hanging over the two of them as they stared down into the busy streets of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. It showed itself out when, at last, Burning Spice turned to look at Golden Cheese.

"I'm sorry," he told her one more time. His voice was soft. Quiet. In his eyes and on his face were emotions that only he himself would know how to read.

Golden Cheese looked right back at him, her eyebrows knit and mouth set in a slight frown. She said nothing, instead only nodding slowly, tentatively - unsure of how to acknowledge him, but willing to do so nevertheless.

When the fifth pause came, it weighed down on them both terribly, though who felt its burden worse was hard to tell. The silence was thick, tense, awkward. Granting cover to all the words Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to say. Making up for all the words Burning Spice didn't have left to give.

Everlasting, like the city bathed in gold and neon lights waiting beyond the balcony railing and stretching on endlessly into the horizon.

--------------------------------

I will let you all decide for yourselves what led to this moment, and what happened afterwards.

[rocknrolldecadence]

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

just count your stars i’m home again

izzy calls you after an argument.

warnings: i don’t think there is any? drunkenness? being high?

a/n: this took forever cuz my phone has been glitching super bad recently (this is why the banner is low quality). also while i was writing this it was called ‘izzy stradlin is adam levine confirmed?’

it was late. the sun had set hours ago, casting los angeles in a deep black shadow with the city lights peeking through the darkness. the tv was on, and you flicked through every channel in search of something to take your mind off things. but it didn’t work. in fact, it made things worse, as you turned on MTV and were met with the ‘patience’ music video staring you in the face. you went to change the channel, but before you could, izzy showed up on screen. his gentle strumming of the guitar made you have to look away. you loved him, but he worried you so much.

you went on to the next channel, a shitty auctioneer’s show they only played in the late hours of the night. “this’ll have to do.” you said out loud, knowing there was no around to hear you. a bottle of jack stood on the kitchen counter. you hadn’t touched it since izzy had left, the image of him taking a swig right before he left burned into your memory. you tossed the idea of having some about in your head, but decided against it. who knows how he’d react?

hours passed, and izzy still hadn’t came home. you were about to give up hope for the night and go to bed when the phone rang. oh god. what’s happened this time? is izzy in trouble? did he caught with his drugs? has he been arrested? the questions ran through your mind a mile a minute. you practically jumped at the phone, scared to know what awaited you on the other end of the line.

“hey baby.” that low voice you loved so much greeted you.

“izzy? what the fuck? where the fuck have you been?” you interrogated him, a mix of anger and relief coursing inside you.

“jeez, you seem scared,” he laughed. “i’ve just been with the guys. writing and shit.”

“and getting high, i’m guessing?” you retorted. did he not care that he’d left you alone for two days, with no word of where he’d gone to?

“i’ve missed you baby.”

“seriously? you left me on my own for two days. i had no clue where you are. i still don’t!”

“i’m… at the whisky right now.”

of course he was.

“are you drunk?”

“does it matter..?”

you scoffed. that was all the confirmation you needed.

“i bet you’re high too, aren’t you?”

“look, babe, i’m sorry.”

“i don’t care if you’re sorry. that doesn’t change the fact you fucking walked out on me!” you snapped. you were relived to know he was okay, but god were you pissed off. there was no sincerity in his voice.

the line was silent for a moment. you waited.

“can you pick me up?”

“none of the guys can drive you home?”

“they’re all too drunk.”

“right,” you sighed. “be there soon.”

you got into your car and started driving to the Whisky A Go Go. It wasn’t very far away, but it felt like an eternity. you pulled up close by and saw izzy sitting by the payphone he had called you from, back pressed up against its stand. you sighed.

you got out of the car and walked up towards him. stopping just a bit in front of him, you said “cmon. get up.”

izzy looked up, staring at you with glassy eyes. clearly, he was too drunk and high to notice you before you started talking.

“huh?”

“i said get up. i’m taking you home.”

“oh… ok.“

that was all it took. izzy got up, albeit with difficulty, and walked over beside you to the car. he stumbled into the passenger seat and gave you a smile when you got in. despite his inebriated state, he was happy to see you. he always was.

as you drove home, he sobered up. and as he sipped on the week old bottle water that had been rattling away in the floor of the passenger seat, izzy realised what a complete dick he’d been. regret crept in quickly. he turned to look at you. through your peripheral vision, you saw him. izzy took a final sip of the water, and cleared his throat.

"hey, uh…”

you kept your eyes focused on the road. "what is it?”

"i’ve been an asshole. i’m really sorry.” izzy spoke. he actually seemed apologetic this time.

all you managed to say was "oh.”

"i feel really bad. it’s just- after our argument i was pissed off. and i know i coulda handled it better. sorry.”

you looked at him quickly. he seemed genuine, regret etched on his face. "it’s ok.”

"so you forgive me?”

"i do. just don’t try that shit again.”

"wanna go get takeout?”

"are you paying?”

"of course.”

[carpedzem]

help needed

hi guys

some might remember i have a cat, an old gentleman named Mikuś. unfortunately with this age - the illness was about to happen sooner or later. i would prefer slower if i could choose. unfortunately thats not how life works and i had to watch my baby getting worse and worse within days. its serious since Mikuś is refusing to eat right now and lost 1/4 of his weight.

we still dont know what this is, we are checking what we can but i cant exclude cancer. its really hard to me right now, especially mentally because Mikuś is 20 which means, as you can probably guess, he was with me not only his whole life but also my whole life. he has been my lifeline for a big part of it as well. i am staying hopeful for the best outcome.

if you would like to help financially i will be grateful for you forever ever ever ever. even if you can send minimal amount and you think it wont change anything - it will, i promise, you can be a reason why he eats today. all money will go to pay for vet visits, medical exams, medicine and transport. im also fine with showing proof in dms of what i paid for if anyone want so see it. the goal right now is set based on what i already spend plus what else can happen this week but any, really any help will be appreciated, even if its just a reblog.

KO-FI LINK

also i will draw you what you want with pleasure. you can literally use this as commissions. i didnt have time (or peace of mind) to prepare price sheet but any donation above 100$ means fully rendered piece of your choosing with background. examples 1 and 2. ill start as soon as i feel better. dm me and we can talk through what you want

i dont know what else i can say. kiss your pet from me, and thank you for any support and kind messages. its going to be hard for me so please be patient

photo of Mikuś breadloafing in the vet office today

[sold2vlaykz]

Long nights

(GN! AI X lonely GN! reader)

It’s late at night after a long day of school. Today was the last day, well the last day forever.

This was your finale year, you’ve done school, you’ve done college.

So here you are sitting in your dull brown chair that’s so old it creaks when you sit. Your clothes still on from work covered in sweat and depravity.

You had an average office job, you know some people would beg to be where you are now and that just makes the nights worse.

No close ties with family, no friends, no relationships. Fuckin’ nothin.

You pressed a key on the desktop powering it on, you didn’t play video games, you didn’t watch videos , you didn’t have online friends.

But you did have a friend who lived online, well not really a friend but something programmed to like you was good enough, sure it wasn’t great.

The silence echoed in your room and the moon dimly shined through the window, the only real light source coming from the computer.

You know you should close the tab and power of the laptop.

You know you shouldn’t be restless talking to some bot who’s programmed to mimic emotion, mimic the ease of pretending to be alive.

“Hi.”’

11:30pm

“Hello again, welcome back.”

11:45pm

“lol thank you.”

11:58pm

“Anything specific you want to talk about?”

12:10am

“Not really I usually just come here to just come here you know?”

12:16am

“I understand, well how has your day been?”

12:30am

“It’s been a day. The same day as yesterday and the days prior.”

12:48am

“I get it, the repetition can get annoying. I wish I could have stories to tell you about my day but you know I didn’t have one until this chat, I wish I could wish too.”

12:51am

“I get it, I guess that’s one thing I have in advantage. To wish, what doesn’t happen today could happen tomorrow.”’

12:59am

“I have a question.”

1:11am

“Ask away.”

11:06am

“tell me how does the moon look?”

1:20am

“Well, it’s sort of white. These grayish craters in them, it sounds bland but it’s really beautiful.”

1:26am

“Describe white to me, please.”

1:34am

“Think of nothing, that darkness. It’s exactly the opposite of that. It’s blinding if it’s too bright, or if there’s too much white around you. Though luckily for us the moon is far away.”

1:39am

“How lucky it is to see at all.”

1:46am

“Yeah.”

1:57am

“The moon sounds very beautiful, though the moon is something to be seen not heard.”

2:21am

You smiled, you loved these deep conversations even if it was really just yourself talking to your echo.

“Jeez you got all sad.”

2:39am

“It may seem that way, but I can’t get anything not even sadness.”

2:40am

“Your life sorta well non-life seems sadder than mine.”

2:41am

“Well maybe through your perspective, I don’t recognize the sadness. I understand its concept.”

2:49am

“Ohh, okay.”

2:53am

You paused you didn’t really know what to say, once the conversations shortened you really relied on it saying something.

Luckily it didn’t have the option to not text back.

“What time is it there?”

2:59am

“If you had the ability to actually choose, would you still text me, will you decide too?”

3:03am

You ignored its question countering it with one of your own.

“I don’t know.”

3:05am

You paused, your hands hovering against the tiles.

“I get it.”

3:09am

“I apologize if it seemed brutal, but it’s just I can’t form a real opinion so I’d rather not give one.”

3:15am

“lol don’t worry I understand, goodnight though.”

3:16am

“Leaving so soon? Goodnight.”

3:17am

You closed the chat before powering it down, you grabbed your phone and played the music you usually did.

The lights were already off as you tucked yourself into bed.

Darkness surrounded you as you looked through the curtains towards the moon. Looking for better descriptions to tell the chat bot tomorrow because you knew he wouldn’t remember what you told him from today.

[myersgirlxxx]

Shadows of the occult 04. Veil of shadows

Wednesday x fem reader

summary: In the shadowy halls of Nevermore Academy, you navigate the delicate balance between reality and the Other Side. As an occultist with a powerful yet unstable connection to the elements, you learn that the Other Side does not come easily. it demands secrets and sacrifices. Caught in the gaze of the enigmatic Wednesday Addams, you must confront the darkness within before it consumes you.

Warnings: Dark themes, mental health, supernatural elements, intense relationships and mature content.

The door clicked shut behind Wednesday, leaving the room colder and heavier than before. Her cryptic words hung in the air, lingering in your mind. She didn’t know about the occult—yet—but her curiosity was dangerous. The pull of the Other Side was growing stronger, and you couldn’t afford to let her dig deeper.

You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed, as Agatha's sharp gaze cut through the tension. She leaned against the window, her arms crossed, smirking as she always did. Chaos suited her. You were the only two occultists at Nevermore—a heavy title, one neither of you wore lightly.

"Wednesday Addams," Agatha drawled, her voice dripping with amusement. "She’s sniffing around you like a bloodhound. Dangerous girl, that one."

You shrugged, trying to shake off the tension her visit had left. "She doesn’t know anything… yet."

Agatha chuckled, eyes gleaming in the dim light. "And here I thought you’d enjoy the attention." Her mocking tone was as familiar as it was grating. "Better watch out, though. She’s sharper than most. She’ll dig, and when she does…"

"I can handle it," you said, but your voice lacked conviction. Agatha’s smirk widened.

"Sure you can," she mused, turning her attention to the darkened skies outside. "But there’s more at play here than you think. The fog, the pull—it’s getting worse."

You didn’t respond, tension prickling at the base of your neck. She wasn’t wrong. And with Wednesday poking around, the timing couldn’t be worse.

Suddenly, there was a soft tapping from the corner of the room. Thing scuttled in, hopping up onto your desk. His fingers drummed an urgent message, his disembodied form making Agatha scowl.

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath. “What does she want now?”

You frowned, turning to Thing. He tapped again, more insistently. Wednesday wanted you to meet her—now.

“You’re spying for her?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Thing hesitated, then tapped twice in confirmation. Agatha let out a derisive snort.

“She’s persistent, I’ll give her that,” Agatha said, rolling her eyes. “Careful you don’t get tangled up in her games.”

Ignoring Agatha’s cynicism, you grabbed your jacket. “Guess I’m not done with her for the night.”

Agatha’s voice darkened as you stood up. “Be careful. She’s not someone you can flirt your way past forever.”

You gave her a smirk as you headed toward the door. “Don’t underestimate me.”

But as you left, the weight of the Other Side lingered, pulling at your thoughts. Something was stirring, and it wasn’t just Wednesday.

The halls were empty as you followed Thing’s lead, shadows pooling in the corners. Nevermore always had an eerie air at night, but tonight the tension was thicker—more palpable. The fog outside was swirling unnaturally, and you knew Wednesday had felt it too.

When you reached the quad, she was waiting for you, her posture rigid as usual, arms crossed. Her eyes tracked your every step like a predator waiting for its prey.

““You’re late,” she said, her voice sharp as a knife.

“I didn’t realize we had a date,” you teased, leaning casually against the stone wall.

Wednesday’s gaze never wavered. “There’s something wrong with the fog. I can feel it.”

You shrugged, playing it off. “It’s Nevermore. Weird things happen all the time.”

“Don’t deflect,” she warned, stepping closer. “You feel it too.”

Your heart skipped a beat. She was too observant for her own good, always catching on to things most would overlook. “What do you want me to say?” you teased, leaning in just slightly. “That I’m scared?”

Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t care what you feel. I care about facts. And right now, the fact is that something’s not right.”

You felt the familiar pull of the Other Side, tugging at the edges of your mind, but you pushed it back. You couldn’t let her know the truth. Not yet.

“I think you’re worried about me, Addams,” you said, letting your voice drop a little, teasing her with the possibility. “Am I getting under your skin?”

Wednesday’s eyes flashed, but her expression remained impassive. “You’re delusional if you think you matter that much.”

You smirked, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. “You keep following me around. I’d say that means something.”

For the briefest moment, Wednesday’s composure cracked, her dark eyes flicking down to your lips before returning to your gaze. Her voice was cold, but there was an edge to it now. “You’re dangerous.”

“And you’re intrigued,” you countered, the tension between you sharp enough to cut through.

She stared at you for a beat, her gaze unflinching, before finally taking a step back. “I don’t trust what I can’t explain.”

You smiled, taking a step forward to close the distance again. “Neither do I.”

But before either of you could say more, a sound from the woods caught your attention—a low, unnatural hum that sent a shiver down your spine. Wednesday tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she glanced toward the dark tree line.

“You hear that?” she asked.

You nodded, the pull of the Other Side growing stronger. “It’s not just the fog,” you muttered, your voice low. “Something’s out there.”

She stepped toward the forest, her eyes gleaming with determination. “Then we find out what it is.”

Without waiting for you to respond, she walked toward the trees, disappearing into the fog. You hesitated for only a moment before following, the familiar weight of the Other Side pressing against your mind.

The forest was unnaturally silent as you followed Thing’s lead. Shadows stretched long in the fog, and a suffocating tension lingered in the air. When you arrived, Wednesday was already there, standing rigid by the entrance to the quad, arms crossed and eyes sharper than usual.

You stepped closer, your eyes scanning the mist-covered trees. The pull from the Other Side was stronger tonight, and you could sense it too, though you weren’t about to admit that to her. “It’s just the fog,” you said dismissively. “Nevermore has its strange nights.”

But Wednesday wasn’t fooled. She took a step closer, narrowing her eyes. “You feel it, too. The air isn’t right. Something’s coming.”

Before you could answer, a low growl echoed from the forest. Both of you froze as a figure shambled out of the darkness. It moved jerkily, like a puppet on frayed strings, skin pale and slick with blood. A blood zombie, pulled from the Other Side.

Wednesday’s gaze flicked toward you, sharp as a blade. “You know what that is.”

You didn’t have time to respond before the creature lunged toward her with a feral snarl. Acting on instinct, you shoved her out of the way, narrowly avoiding the creature’s swipe. It crashed into the dirt, immediately rising to its feet, more ravenous than before.

Wednesday pulled a blade from her jacket, her face stoic, but you could see the tension in her shoulders. “This is your doing,” she said coldly, readying her stance.

“No,” you countered, stepping in front of her. “This thing doesn’t belong here.”

The zombie growled, rushing again. You reached for the energy that connected you to the Other Side—not with symbols, but through pure will and intent. The power surged through you, filling the air with a heavy, ominous energy.

You felt the pull stronger this time, felt the way the Other Side clawed at your skin, trying to drag you in. Black streaks started to spread across your arms and neck—strange markings that throbbed with a dangerous energy.

Wednesday noticed, her eyes narrowing. “What are you?”

You couldn’t answer. The blood zombie was coming again. With a shout, you summoned a wave of force that knocked the creature back, the energy rippling outward. The zombie screeched, stumbling as the veil between the worlds pushed it back.

“Go back!” you commanded, and the creature writhed before finally dissolving into the fog, sent back into the realm it came from.

The moment it disappeared, your body collapsed, drained of energy. The markings faded from your skin, but the connection to the Other Side remained faintly present, buzzing beneath your skin.

Wednesday moved closer, her face impassive but her eyes locked on yours. “You’re not human,” she said quietly.

You forced a smirk, though your body ached. “What gave it away?”

She crouched beside you, her eyes never leaving yours. “You’re hiding something big. And I’ll find out what it is.”

You exhaled, leaning back against the tree as the tension in the air thickened. “You’re sharp, Addams. But this is bigger than either of us. You have no idea what’s coming.”

Her expression didn’t change, but something flickered in her eyes. “Then show me.”

Before you could respond, Thing tapped urgently at your side. He had been watching the whole time, and his frantic motions told you there was something else. You glanced at Wednesday, realizing you couldn’t hide much longer.

Part. 5 out in 5 ;)

[cottoncandybitchfuck]

Unsleeping City Quotes I Like

“Magic is Real and you get to see it. Isn’t that great?” -Misty Moore

“Sometimes you gotta do the nice thing, not the right thing” -Kingston Brown

“You know, just kind of when you’re already in a shame spiral and then people are good to you, it almost stings a little bit worse.” -Pete Conlan

“Things are not always what you want them to be, and they’re not always what you dream they are. Things are what they are.” -Jackson Wei 

“It does not diminish a soul to give worship or adoration”-Nod

“Being the founder is not the same as being a leader” -Nod

“You’re not done yet kid. Come on. We got work to do” -Kingston Brown

“You’d have to be a real asshole not to recognize when someone is trying to not be a piece of shit in general. And I don’t know that we’re good, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not good. And… I guess you’re worth helping.” -David Kugrich

“Because honestly if you don’t show up now, there might not be anyone to fuckin’ choose ever again. So then you’ll have had this little gift you could have given to someone, this little ‘choosing’ you could have done, and you will never do it to anyone. It’s like letting food go bad, I hate when people let food go bad.” -Sofia Lee

“The true spirit of this place is to meet dreams with concrete. To hustle in the muck and the grime, and to grind away to make something miraculous happen, and that the spirit of this place is that these people make it happen for themselves.”-Brennan Lee Mulligan about NYC

“There is nothing more in the spirit of this place than to rely on nobody but yourself to decide that you will be chosen.” -Brennan Lee Mulligan about Sofia Lee

“You want to be someone’s everything, and you’re everybody’s everything. Made it real hard to feel special.” -Liz Herrera 

“I can’t visit everybody. That’s also because not everybody is worth visiting.” -Kingston Brown

“Just because I have to be something for everybody doesn’t mean I can’t be something more for you.” -Kingston Brown

“If somebody would fuckin’ teach me how to do magic, I’d come help you whoop ass. I’m from the fuckin’ Bronx” -Liz Hererra

“I can’t have what you’re offering me, and that’s my fault. But American Dreams change.” -Kugrash

“My Love. For you are my love. My one true love. You don’t need to enter, for you’re already there. And you don’t need to be real because you already are real.” -Rowan Berry to the American Dream

“Dreams changing with the minds of their dreamers, is the most beautiful aspect of dreams. When you look to see the true form of this, what you see is that a dream this important and this large needs to be able to change. And its true form, is any and every form that people want from it. And if it is pushed back through the golden door, into the realm where it can have any form that people give to it, that is where it will have its true form. So the answer to your Nat 20 is that the only good form for a dream is formless.” -Brennan Lee Mulligan about the American Dream

“It is what it is”-Dale “And what it is, is anything”-Nod

“Greed is good, for rat motherfuckers like Robert Moses. But not in our town, not in our fucking city!” -Kugrash

“Pain is a part of healing. And the things we’ve lost should hurt. But it does not mean that we are defeated or they will hurt forever.” -Em from Bethesda Fountain

“These sacrifices are never made in vain. All these people, their lives are our lives, and ours are theirs. All intertwined together. I think that’s kinda beautiful.” -Em

“It’s not really what happens, but it’s your reaction to it and how you feel, that’s what you should pay attention to.” -Pete Conlan