#but she had plenty of stories dealing with exactly that issue

[desperatecheesecubes]

I miss this Oracle

[cobaltperun]

Lost (20) - Miracle

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4.8k

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-Take a look around, it's you and me, it's here and now-

~X~ March 23rd, 2027 ~X~

It was cold, this entire place was as cold as ice for her, and it had nothing to do with the weather, or her clothing. She could put on the warmest clothes she owned, instead of her jeans and baby blue sweater, and she’d still be cold in this bare room with dull gray walls and a light that was too strong for her liking.

Truly, she should have been used to this by now, she should have known her life was going too well, that she was so happy, and that the universe wouldn’t allow that. Even after all she went through, all the horrible things that happened to her, it wasn’t enough, she had to experience true loneliness for the very first time in her life, to feel completely alone.

“I’m sorry miss L/N, we’ve been instructed not to allow any visitors,” the officer told her, and Tara had to take several deep breaths to calm down and not make a scene, though at this point she had no idea how she was controlling herself. Maybe because making a scene wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t do her any good, it wouldn’t chase away the persistent cold. You had the right to visitors, much worse people had them, but apparently no one was allowed to see you. Not her, not your lawyer, despite threats that they would be sued for this no one budged an inch. There was no way to contact you.

Her hand touched her stomach, knowing there were plenty of reasons why she shouldn’t stress too much. “I’m her wife,” she repeated, hoping there was some humanity left in this man and that he would let her through to you. She needed to see you, even if it was in this cold, dark place, even if you were locked up. Even just seeing you would be enough to, at least for a bit, make her feel warm again. “I’m carrying her child, please, just for five minutes.”

He looked down, and while Tara could still hide it, a closer look would reveal that she was, indeed, two and a half months pregnant. “Well, it’s not exactly her child, is it? Get out miss L/N, this is your last warning,” he sneered and came up to her, ignoring her glare and ready to shove her if necessary.

“We get it, we’re leaving,” Danny stepped between Tara and the officer, just to be sure nothing would happen to her. “Come on, Tara, he won’t let you see Y/N,” he pleaded, gently taking her forearm and pulling her outside.

Tara let him, she followed him, through the nearly empty halls of the prison, defeated and not paying attention to the few officers that did look at her. You’ve been locked up for three weeks and no one was allowed to see you or hear from you. And Tara? Tara only had Danny left… You were locked up, Sam was gone, her friends weren’t there, they were dealing with their own lives, and while she missed them, Tara refused to ask them to come and stay with her. She didn’t want to involve them into this, she’d find a way to reach you eventually.

The fresh air outside the prison felt stale when you were locked up in the cold building she just exited. She got in the backseat of the taxi and Danny gave the driver his address as Tara got lost in her thoughts. Things were so much simpler and happier just a month ago, in fact, everything was going well ever since you recovered, over four years ago.

~X~ December 2022 ~X~

You were being mean, laughing at her and handing her the inhaler at the same time. Jerk… “You needed me so much you couldn’t breathe?” you dropped down unceremoniously next to her and pulled her closer the moment she returned the inhaler to the nightstand next to your bed.

Just to be slightly petty she playfully stuck her tongue out and turned her back to you, as much as her body tingled from what the two of you just did. And you just chuckled, spooning her and wrapping a strong arm around her waist. Despite your teasing she relaxed against you, enjoying the warmth and the feel of your bare skin against her back. “It’s not my fault you went crazy after I called you ‘baby’,” she sighed dramatically. She wasn’t sure she could move from the bed any time soon, not that she was complaining, besides, it was clear you got your stamina back and she was definitely no longer feeling pent-up.

You leaned closer to her, slowly kissing her just beneath her ear and Tara hummed in approval. She twisted around in your arms, baring her neck so you could keep kissing her. “I remember hearing something else as well,” you eventually reminded her, your tone low and slightly raspy and all the things Tara was weak to as she sighed when you left another mark on her neck.

She was confused for a moment, and then she turned completely red when she remembered exactly what you were talking about. “You’ll never hear that again,” she ducked down, hiding her face beneath your chin and just wrapping her arms around you.

“Whatever you say, Tara,” she could feel you smirking, she could sense it! Damn you for knowing exactly how to get her worked up, and for making her call you… no… she wouldn’t even think about that. She’d forget it! She’d make you sleep on the couch if you ever mentioned it. Or maybe not that. She needed you next to her to sleep well, so maybe she wouldn’t make you sleep on the couch. Forbid you from kissing her? No, she liked that too much to use it as punishment. She could sit somewhere other than on your lap?

Hell no!

She could take your car. Actually, that would get you to ban her from sitting on your lap.

She’d just make you play horror games without her. That’ll teach you.

She one hundred percent did not have that kink. Nope, it was a slip of a tongue, nothing more, and it would never happen again!

But then another thought popped into her head. And while there was a chance it was said in the heat of the moment, that it was just your desire and passion talking, you did kinda tell her you wanted to marry her. And while it easily could put you in a bad spot, she wanted to hear your thoughts now that you weren’t consumed by your desires. She didn’t doubt you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her, it was the actual marriage that she was wondering about, since you, somehow, never talked about your feelings on that.

Tara personally wanted to get married, she imagined how it would look when she was younger. Nowadays her imagination didn’t include big events, just something private, but she did want that with you.

“Say, Y/N, were you serious about wanting to marry me?” she asked, absentmindedly tracing random lines on your biceps. You still haven’t recovered all your muscles, but she could feel them under her touch, firm and strong, and she was sure you’d be back in shape before the end of the year. Not that you weren’t already in shape, just, you’d be back in the shape you were in before Bailey, his children, and Thomas attacked all of you.

“Completely,” you didn’t even hesitate, you just hugged her a bit tighter. “I’ll do the whole proposal thing sooner or later, but if you want to marry me, then yes, I am absolutely serious about that.”

Tara nodded, smiling brightly. “I do want to marry you,” she kissed you, from your neck, your jaw, all the way to your lips. “I want to spend my entire life with you,” the two of you haven’t even been together for a year, though it was close to a year now, your anniversary was less than a week away, but she had no doubt in her mind that what she said was exactly what she wanted. Her lips met yours and she nudged you slightly so you would get on your back, and she moved with you to straddle your abs. “I want to take your last name, to have-“ she suddenly stopped, just now realizing that was another topic the two of you never talked about.

“Tara?” you raised an eyebrow, confused by her silence.

“Do you want children?” she blurted out, because she did, she wanted at least one child, or two, maybe two would be better. Probably not more than two. She wanted to give someone a childhood she wished to have, as far as parents went. But even more than that, she wanted a family with you. Regardless of if it was just the two of you, or if there would be kids.

You kinda just… shrugged and now it was Tara’s turn to be confused. “Eventually, sure. I haven’t really thought about it, but I’m not against it,” you tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and Tara sighed in relief. “If you want kids, we’ll raise them together, if you don’t, it’ll be just the two of us,” you pulled her down for a kiss and Tara felt like melting. “It’s not a deal breaker for me, nothing is as long as I’m with you.”

She definitely didn’t want kids right away, she wanted to finish college, get a job, get married and then, eventually, when both of you felt you were ready, either adopt or get pregnant. That, however, was topic for another day. In the back of her head, she worried about Ghostface coming back, but she could only believe in you, in your ability to come back to her, and her own ability to make sure she came back to you as well.

“You know, it’s good that you called me-“ she shut you up with a kiss. She knew exactly where you were going with that, and she would not let you finish that sentence.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned you. You just grinned at her, and even though you stayed silent she knew the word was on the tip of your tongue. She’d have to make you say something embarrassing as well eventually. With that thought in mind Tara kissed you one more time.

~X~ December 13th, 2023. ~X~

This was it. This was how you were going to have your second heart attack and drop dead. All things considered your panic-filled mind wondered if this could be considered suicide, because, all of this was, after all, your own doing. It would be fine, right? Tara did want this, she said so! Granted, the one and only time the two of you talked about this was over a year ago, but surely nothing has changed since then, right?

You still felt like you’d rather run a gauntlet, fight the strongest women MMA fighters one after another right now than actually go through with this.

“I can’t,” you were pacing around the hotel room, not even daring to glance at the tiny box on the table. Oh, if a bird swooped in from the skies and grabbed it you would be the happiest woman alive, because you’d at least have an excuse to postpone this. Maybe you should go and ask for some bird seeds or something similar, just to leave them near the box and hopefully lure said birds inside.

“Y/N!” Anika grabbed your shoulders and pushed, but she couldn’t get you to move. “Sit down you… mass of muscles and ridiculous strength only Tara gets to move!” she grunted and then just threw her arms up, and sat down herself. “Fine! Stand there!” she gave up. “If you don’t do this today, you’ll have to wait until next year, remember?”

You looked to the side, annoyed that she was right. Her hair was braided, and she was wearing a nice, bright and colorful dress Mindy was going to drool over tonight. It was December thirteenth. The second anniversary of your and Tara’s relationship and you were ready to propose. Well, as far as setting everything up was concerned. You booked the restaurant in this hotel, hooray for successful business, got the ring, dressed up, everything was ready. Mentally though… you were absolutely not ready.

The proposal was also why you were on an urgent business trip, why Anika went back to her parents, and why Mindy and Chad had to visit their mom, and why Sam and Danny would be taking Tara to a restaurant so she wouldn’t feel lonely, and you’d be making up for the urgent business trip tomorrow, when Tara turns twenty-one.

Which was all one big lie, aside from Sam and Danny taking Tara to the restaurant, all so Tara wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Or maybe, hear me out, I say screw important dates, and just randomly ask her one day?” you suggested, raising your finger to make a point.

Anika got up and began jabbing her finger above your chest. “You, Y/N L/N, are one of the best women MMA fighters, you lived through being shot, stabbed, impaled on a rebar, falling from a roof and won Sam’s approval to date her sister, which is probably the most impressive accomplishment of them all,” she told you with enough conviction to make your own doubts slowly ebb away. “You are going to go downstairs, dressed in that,” she looked you up and down and just stepped back. “that… let’s just say Tara is lucky, because, well, you dressed to impress,” and you did. You went all out, finding the best clothes for the occasion.

And then the phone rang, and you saw it was Danny calling.

Afraid something happened you immediately picked up and put him on a speaker. “Yes?”

“It’s a disaster,” he opened dramatically, his voice filled with panic. “Tara won’t dress up!”

You felt the tension from all of this, all the pressure from wanting to propose to her, all the worry caused by his call, it all just vanished, and you felt like you could breathe again. “Dude, let her come in whatever she wants,” you laughed, no longer feeling nervous. This was Tara, your Tara and you suddenly felt silly for even being nervous in the first place.

“She wants to come in your damn shirt! Not even a really nice one, but a random shirt she picked out, it’s a miracle she doesn’t look like a fashion emergency!” he whisper-shouted and you watched Anika’s jaw dropping as she heard that.

You laughed a bit too loudly. “So let her! Let my girl do whatever she wants, it’s her night!” you just sat down on the bed and couldn’t wipe the grin off your face.

“It’s a five-star hotel and she wants to wear an oversized shirt that looks more like a dress on her and jeans! She didn’t even do her hair or put make-up on!” he nearly yelled while you had a dreamy look on your face knowing Tara would still look more beautiful than anyone else in this whole hotel.

“Yup, let her, just bring her here,” you sighed dreamily, your mood swinging in the exact opposite direction.

“Unbelievable, both of you,” he groaned and hung up.

You looked at Anika, still flabbergasted by what she heard, and then at your usual clothes. “You know what, Tara has a point,” you’d wear fancy clothes for some special occasion, maybe tomorrow night when you take her out not as your girlfriend, but as your fiancée for the very first time.

“No! Y/N! I won’t let you!” Anika cried out, but it was too late now.

~X~

Dressing up… as if Tara wanted to do that tonight. You weren’t there, and she was basically being a third wheel on Sam and Danny’s date, so no, she wouldn’t dress up. She wanted to stay home, watch a movie, and wear your shirt so she could feel like you were hugging her. But, Sam insisted and she couldn’t say no to Sam’s pleading gaze.

Well, she’d see you tomorrow, so that was nice. Urgent business trips have happened ever since you opened your own company. You used the money you got from your retirement and ensured you could mostly work from home, but you still needed to leave every now and then to meet up with your business partners. Did it suck that you had to leave on your anniversary? Yeah, it did. Was Tara angry? No, just a bit lonely since everyone else seemed to leave as well, but you called her plenty of times today and she couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.

The hotel Sam and Danny took her to… well, now she felt a bit silly for being dressed so casually, especially since Danny went for a dark brown suit and black turtleneck sweater and Sam went through trouble of doing her hair and wearing a light green long coat with shirt and pants. And Sam didn’t exactly dress up that often, she preferred casual clothes she could defend herself in if needed, and while Tara became cautious after what happened last year, Sam took it to the next level, and that made Tara worried for Sam, she wasn’t letting anyone new in, no matter what, even at work she kept to herself and barely even got out unless Tara or Danny specifically asked her to.

That made Tara feel a bit guilty, because this was actually Sam’s idea, and now that they were here Tara wondered if she really should have dressed up. If for no other reason than to show Sam she appreciated that Sam wanted to go out. She wanted to apologize, but Sam still looked so happy, so Tara figured she could apologize later tonight. She didn’t want to make Sam and Danny’s date uncomfortable before it even officially began.

She walked in behind them, noticing immediately the hotel restaurant was empty, sure, it was expensive and all that, but completely empty? No celebrities at the very least? And since when did Sam and Danny want to spend this much money of a single date? And then add even more costs by inviting Tara with them? And several people greeted them and took them to the round table set up for six people, where Chad, Mindy and Anika were waiting already.

They were all dressed up, and Mindy was rolling her eyes when she noticed how Tara looked. “Seriously Sam? You couldn’t get her to wear something else?” Mindy shook her head in utter disbelief.

“She’s stubborn, and well, the three of you didn’t do a better job anyway,” Sam muttered, further confusing Tara.

Several ideas were crossing her mind, but the table was set up for six people, and all thoughts of you somehow popping up were ruled out by that simple fact. Unless that was what you wanted her to think. Since it wouldn’t be that hard to just move things around a bit and make space for one more person, in fact, there was suspiciously wide open space between Chad’s chair and an empty chair next to him.

But everyone was dressed up. Anika was stunning, Mindy looked just as beautiful in that red, slightly revealing dress and Chad went for a more casual, button up shirt and suit combination, and that worried her, because he loved dressing in a more casual way.

“Still the most beautiful girl in the room though,” her jaw dropped at the sound of your voice, and she looked to the side as you came down the stairs, dressed just as casually as Tara, just simple, slightly tighter polo shirt and pants and a smile on your face as she ran up to you and jumped into your arms.

“What’s this all about? How are you here?” she wasn’t complaining, not in the slightest, she just wanted to know.

You laughed, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style to the table. “Well, I wanted to make this a bit fancier, but,” you looked down at her choice of clothing and grinned. “I think this suits us much better,” you lowered her back to her feet and guided her to the remaining free chair. She sat down, still looking at your eyes. “Tara Carpenter,” you went down to one knee and pulled out a box making Tara’s jaw drop as she saw a beautiful ring that matched the necklace you bought her for her eighteenth birthday. “Will you marry me?”

Tara refused to cry, she wasn’t going to cry, she was absolutely crying as she fell into your arms and hugged you as tightly as she could. “Yes, a hundred times yes!” she exclaimed as your friends cheered around the two of you.

You laughed at that, and got up, lifting Tara up in the process and hugging her tightly. “I love you,” you kissed her lightly, but she wasn’t having any of that as she deepened the kiss right away, her hand cupping your cheek.

“I love you too,” she whispered against your lips when you separated and you put a ring on her finger and she pulled you down for another kiss.

~X~ Present day ~X~

The two of you got married on your third anniversary, exactly a year after you proposed, and last year you decided you’d try IVF and then, when Tara and you told Sam about it… well, that’s when it all started going downhill, as Sam grew more and more irritated and angry and would leave for several days at a time. Tara tried to be patient, she tried to understand her sister, to be there for her, but it was starting to take its toll on her as well, because no matter how she approached Sam nothing seemed to be working. And then something she feared the most happened. Despite how much she tried to tell you it was fine, it happened, you snapped.

~X~ December 2026 ~X~

Getting married didn’t change anything, Sam was still living with Tara and you, and her and Danny were still not living together. They’d spend nights together occasionally, but Sam never brought up the idea of him moving in, or her moving to his place. “Sam, please, just tell me what’s going on,” Tara pleaded when Sam once again chose to ignore how worried she was making Tara be.

“Nothing is going on,” Sam shut her down, not even once looking at Tara as she sat in your shared kitchen. You were out, buying groceries for tonight’s dinner, you and Tara wanted to make this dinner feel special, since it’s been a while since Sam was home for more than a few days. And this time she actually made it through the week without disappearing. “Just make sure to take care of yourself when you get pregnant,” there was frustration in Sam’s voice that Tara immediately noticed.

“Are you angry at me?” Tara asked, not really having any ideas as to why Sam would be angry, but it just felt like she was. Surely she wasn’t angry because Tara wanted to have children, right?

“No,” and Sam refused to elaborate and in her anger and frustration reached into her pocket for her cigarettes just as you came back home. Tara knew Sam never truly quit smoking, though she tried several times, but in all the years since Sam began smoking she never smoked near Tara, and she always made sure Tara couldn’t smell the cigarettes. So, Tara was shocked, but she didn’t say anything, fearing it would make Sam leave again. Her asthma was more manageable, she could handle a cigarette, she hoped.

The doors opened at the worst possible moment and Tara watched your face twisting in anger as you realized Sam had lit a cigarette. “Drop it! Sam, drop it right now!” if there was one thing, just one thing that didn’t involve actually harming someone you loved that would make you snap instantly, it was someone who knew Tara had asthma trying to smoke near her.

“Baby, wait,” Tara got up, stopping you before you could take the cigarettes from Sam. This was already a volatile situation, Sam was frustrated, you were angry, and Tara needed to calm things down. “Let’s just go to our room, okay?” she took the groceries from your hand and placed them on the table, noticing ojo de pancha from a nearby bakery Sam loved at the top. She reached up, cradling your cheek, feeling and seeing the tension on your face. She pulled you closer, relaxing slightly when she felt you relaxing a bit. “Do it for me?” she spent her entire childhood listening to her parents arguing, then to her mother and Sam arguing, she didn’t want to listen to you and Sam arguing as well, especially for her sake.

You sighed, but nodded, ready to just let it be, until Sam spoke, not even bothering to put the cigarette out. “What are you two even thinking? What if Ghostface comes after us again?!” Sam demanded and Tara turned to look at her, at the fury in her eyes.

“Sam?” she called out, not recognizing her sister. She knew Sam was paranoid, but this much? “We weren’t attacked for over four years,” she tried to remind her as she took your hand and took a few steps back, away from Sam’s rage and from the smoke and despite knowing Sam would never hurt her you stepped between her and Sam.

“Tara has me, I won’t let anyone hurt her, or our child,” you said, for the first time in fifteen years you’ve spent as Tara’s best friend, as her protector, as the one person she could always rely on, the guard dog barked at her sister. “You included, Sam, so put that damn cigarette out before I make you,” you warned, your tone dangerously low.

You would turn twenty-six in a bit less than half a year, and for the lack of a better word, you were at your peak. Stronger than even when you fought for the title, or when you fought against Thomas. Speed, strength, skill, all of that was as high as you could take it, and it was one of the reasons why you chose to start a family now, because Tara did worry about Ghostface coming back, and so did you. So, if the two of you wanted children this was the absolute best time to do it, even if it meant starting your family at a fairly young age compared to most couples. You’d be able to maintain this peak for several years, and you’d be close to it well into your thirties if you kept training the way you did now.

Sam scoffed and walked out, and despite Tara’s pleas, she didn’t come back for a week. And Tara? She just cried in your arms, feeling like she was once again losing her sister.

~X~

Looking back now, it was like Tara was looking at herself from back when you first came to New York, only Sam was almost thirty and angrier than Tara ever was. When Tara found out she was pregnant, she wanted to have you and Sam there, but Sam just… left… abandoned Tara again, and no one, not her, not you, not Danny, no one could reach her. For nearly three months now, Tara had no idea where Sam was. And she felt as if her life had fallen apart completely.

Chad, Mindy and Anika left New York a while ago, Chad pursuing his football career, which took him to Miami last year, while Anika and Mindy formed a rising star duo, directing horror movies all over the country for the past two years. So, her group was scattered, and while they all stayed in touch, Tara was only left with you as her constant. Danny was there as well, trying to be supportive while Sam was going through whatever she was going through, but it really was just you and her.

And then, three weeks ago you got arrested, framed for murder you didn’t commit. And the victim? Your own father? He was stabbed, and despite her best efforts, Tara had no idea why you even went there in the first place, she just knew you didn’t do it.

A/N: Right, Tara is pregnant. I’m sure that won’t raise the stakes at all. Anyway, this is my Scream 7, I'm not watching anything unless Melissa and Jenna are back. Have fun with Lost season 2!

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the dialogue prompts ask game

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Freak." and jaytim <3

send a ship and a quote and i'll write a short fic!

i'm delighted this was the most requested prompt and ship. just for that it got bumped to the front of the line. the sexual tension is implied, but this is mostly just 3k of a torture scene during Tim's Robin era. enjoy <3

“I’ve got a present for you, Hood.”

Jason didn't have to look up to see who was talking to him. The voice was a familiarly grating one. He hadn't exactly been hiding the location of his current base. It was used for meetings with the drug lords under Jason’s thumb. Plenty of his men came through, looking to buy weapons off Jason or try to barter for more territory.

That didn't mean Black Mask was welcome.

Jason picked up a random gun from the table in front of him, making a point to loudly load and cock it. “You can't buy your way back into my good graces, Mask.” He cracked his neck. It'd been a while since Jason has fought Roman. He could use the workout.

“This present isn't something money can buy,” Roman sounded a little too gleeful. There was a heavy thud, followed by a human-sounded groan that made Jason turn his head with morbid curiosity.

Well. Jason would be damned. It really wasn't a present just anyone can pay for.

“How the hell did you of all people manage to pull this off?” Jason asked. He walked across the room, heavy boots loud against the concrete. Crouching in front of Roman’s little present, Jason hummed. “I sincerely doubt you have the skills to catch Robin on your own.”

Tim Drake, hog tied, gagged, and glaring like a bat out of hell, squirmed on the ground with an annoyed growl. His face was bloody and the handle of a shiv was sticking out of his thigh. Jason grabbed him by the chin and tilted his head up, just to be sure he was the real deal.

He was. That scowl was unmistakable.

“You underestimate me,” Roman said, pleased with himself. “I killed a Robin, you know.”

Roman couldn't see Jason’s face under his helmet, but Jason still looked up at him, arching an unconvinced eyebrow. More interesting though, was Tim's reaction. Another angry growl, this time directed at Roman.

“Of course, she barely counted as a Robin but-” Roman shrugged and spread his grubby hands- “I'm more dangerous than you know. More valuable.” He tilted his head to the side, giving Jason a ghastly smile. Jason had vaguely heard stories of a girl who was Robin for a short while. “But I’m giving you the honor of killing this Robin.”

Well, wasn't that a gift.

Jason couldn't say he wasn't pleased to have Tim tied up at his feet. Just the sight made him smile. But wanting Tim dead? That unfortunately would just cause Jason more issues than it was worth. Roman didn't know Jason’s history as Robin. No one did, but the Bats. And if those Bats knew Jason actually killed Tim, they'd make his life a hell of a lot more difficult.

It was tempting, though. Jason was already picturing half a dozen ways he would do it, if he could.

So goddamn tempting.

“You think I want the strings attached to this gift?” Jason was careful not to overplay his hand. He made a show of grabbing a handful of Tim’s hair and yanking his head back to get a look at him. If Roman knew Jason didn't actually plan to kill Tim, it could reveal too much about Jason’s past for comfort.

“My requests are reasonable,” Roman hummed. He was wandering around Jason’s warehouse, looking at Jason's weapons. “All of my men and territory pooled together with yours. For thirty percent of collective profit.”

He really was desperate. When Jason first met Roman, the man wouldnt have taken anything less than eighty.

Jason had heard rumors that Roman was losing ground to the Maronis. It clearly held more truth than he realized.

“What about that nightclub you own on the East End?” Jason asked, studying Tim. His face being hidden was a plus. Tim couldn't read him, no matter how hard he was clearly trying, eyebrows knit together.

Roman sputtered. “What about it?”

“I want in,” Jason said. “At least fifty.”

In truth, it wasn't about the money. Jason could get money just about anywhere. But he’d heard rumors about the girls that worked there getting beaten by their pimps. Jason had been looking for a way to get that under control.

He could always double cross Roman after a couple months, once he gained the support of Roman’s men. It would be easier than shooting fish in a barrel.

“I built that establishment from the ground up,” Roman hissed.

Jason only shrugged. “I could just kill you, then kill Robin.” Under Jason’s grip, Tim flinched and started to squirm harder.

Silence.

“Fifty is reasonable,” Roman said slowly, fighting against every word. “But I want to watch you kill the Boy Wonder.”

Jason shifted his weight. “Why?”

“Sadists enjoy admiring each other's work, don't we?” Roman leaned against a table, sliding his hands in his pockets. “I want to see how you’ll do it.”

That complicated things.

“You want to waste your whole night here?” Jason tried to sound bored. “I’m going to drag it out.”

Roman just laughed. “I did the same with the girl. There's no fun in giving them the easy way out.”

Jason needed time to think of a plan that didn't end in a dead bird on his hands. Which meant he needed to stall.

“Whatever.” Jason shrugged. “Do what you want. Just don't touch my shit and stay back there. I don't want you breathing down my neck.”

With a pleased nod, Roman leaned against a table. He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit it.

Jason cracked his neck and pulled his kris dagger off his belt. He cut the gag off of Tim, knicking his cheek with a small cut. Tim actually looked nervous.

Leaning forward to not be heard by Roman, Jason lowered his voice to a whisper. “Put on a good performance, or I'll have to actually start hurting you.” It was the only hint Jason was giving Tim about his working plan.

Tim’s expression changed. His brow furrowed, then mouth formed a small ‘o’ of understanding. He gave Jason the smallest, almost imperceptible nod. He understood. He would cooperate. There was still hesitance. Jason didn't blame him.

He still had to make Tim bleed.

Jason raised the dagger, making a show of considering what to do with it. He brought the blade down on the part of Tim’s chest plate with the thickest armor. The knife would still definitely pierce skin, but a shallow wound.

Tim grunted, face twisting up. He was going the smart route, making it look like he was trying hard to not react. Jason hummed in approval. He twisted the kris around, digging it into Tim’s suit more. This time, the sound Tim made sounded a bit more genuine.

“You can scream,” Jason said loudly. More for Roman’s sake, to play up the sadist act. Of course, a small part of him did want to hear Tim scream. “If you don't make it interesting, I'll just have to get more creative.”

Tim gave Jason a rude scowl. He really should've been more grateful. Jason still could just kill him.

“What toys do you keep here?” Jason asked. He routed around Tim’s utility belt, looking for something interesting. Tim tried to twist away. Jason kneed him hard in the stomach, pulling a groan out of him. “Hold still.”

Jason tossed aside uninteresting things, like lockpicks and fingerprinting kits. A small noise of victory came out of him when Jason’s fingers curled around a tazer.

“This looks fun.” Jason turned it around in his hand, fiddling with the settings.

Tim was violently shaking his head.

Jason pressed the tazer against Tim’s suit and turned it on.

Tim’s whole body jerked and he screamed through grit teeth. Jason watched his expression changed like a hawk. Of course Tim was acting it up, but still. It was something fun to watch him writhe in pain.

“It’ll hurt more if you press it against his bare skin,” Roman called out.

Jason looked over his shoulder. “If I want your useless input, I'll ask for it.” His tone was deadly enough to make Roman stiffen and nod.

Killjoy.

Jason shocked Tim with the tazer again while hunting some more around the belt. Every tortured noise Tim made was music to Jason’s ears.

The next interesting thing Jason pulled out was a small emergency flare.

With a curious hum, Jason lit the flare. Tim flinched and gave Jason a concerned look.

“What are you-” Tim asked shakily. He was cut off by a hard punch to the face. Blood poured from Tim’s nose.

“Don't rush me,” Jason growled. He pulled his kris out of Tim, setting the tazer aside. Jason held the blade against the hot flame from the flare. The metal warmed until it glowed bright red. “I’d really recommend holding still, unless you want to lose an eye.” Jason brought the red hot blade to Tim’s face. Tim froze, breathing hard.

instead of cutting, Jason just pressed the flat of the blade against Tim’s face. A horrible cry came out of Tim’s throat, but he stayed still. The scent of burning flesh filled the room for the long minute Jason kept the hot blade in place.

When he lifted it, Tim curled in on himself, coughing and choking on the blood from his nose. The wavy design of the kris left an interesting mark on Tim’s cheek, swirling back and forth.

“If that scars, I swear to god-” Tim mumbled through grit teeth, moving his mouth as little as possible.

“It won't scar,” Jason hissed back. “Probably.” Which was a shame. He sort of hoped it would. Jason cleared his throat to raise his voice. “I want Batman to know who killed you,” he explained, spinning the kris around in his hand. “He’ll see that and he’ll know whose blade it was.”

“You’re sick,” Tim wheezed. His voice was so small. Too small for Roman to hear. Jason huffed in annoyance.

“Don’t be shy you’re going to insult me,” Jason taunted. He tapped Tim’s thigh with his shoe. A reminder they were doing this for show.

Tim inhaled sharply. “I said you're fucking sick,” he raised his voice. He spat out a mouthful of blood, clearly trying to hit Jason. Jason just shifted out of the way, letting it splatter on the concrete.

“That was rude.” Jason was glad his helmet hid his smile.

He looked at the flare still lit in his hand, shrugged, and put it out against Tim’s stomach.

“Oh god!” Tim tried to twist away. The suit protected him from the worst of it, but he’d have at least second degree burns. Not to mention the parts of the suit that were currently melting and burning into his skin. “Fuck!” Tim’s scream definitely sounded genuine. He was stuck between trying to stay still to keep the burn from spreading and trying to get away from the pain. It was a glorious little struggle to watch.

The flare eventually ran out of juice at about the same time Tim’s lungs ran out of air to scream with. Jason tossed it aside and studied the new wound, pressing his fingers into it exposed raw flesh.

“Stop,” Tim begged, shuddering in pain. “Please, fuck-” he shrieked when Jason dug a nail into the burn.

“He folded easier than I thought he would,” Roman chuckled from his spot across the room, blowing out a mouthful of smoke.

“Well, you see how fast Batman goes through ‘em,” Jason said nonchalantly. Roman didn't know that was a self jab, and he didn't need to know.

Jason cut through Tim’s chest plate, exposing his bare skin. The fabric got stuck and torn on the burn, pulling a whimper out of Tim at the wound being agitated even more.

It always was a damn shame just how pretty Tim Drake was.

If Roman wasn't in the room, Jason would've torn off that damned domino mask by now to get a good look at Tim’s eyes while Jason hurt him.

Jason sliced Tim’s chest open, a wide arc just above his nipples. It wasn't too deep, but still made Tim cry out.

“Now I know-” Jason said, going back to Tim's belt- “somewhere in here, Batman makes you carry acid to cut through metal and whatnot.”

“No, no,” Tim wildly shook his head. “Please don’t.” He went pale at the thought.

Jason found the little vial he was looking for and held it up, right in front of Tim’s face. “Should've done a better job hiding it.”

He unscrewed the top and tipped the vial, dripping it into Tim’s fresh cut. Jason was careful not to use too much. Only a few drops were needed to start eating into Tim’s flesh.

The scream from Tim was blood curling. He tried to fold in on himself, twisting around on the ground like a wild animal.

Jason’s heart was pounding.

The shiv that was still stuck in Tim’s thigh got yanked out so Jason could drop poison into that wound too.

“Stop!” Tim’s voice already hoarse. “I'm gonna- I'm gonna throw up, god.” He sounded hysterical. His head tilted back and he sucked in lungfuls of air.

“You better not on my boots,” Jason warned lazily. He spilled acid into the burn mark on Tim’s stomach. Then, he got an even better idea. “Open wide.” Jason grabbed Tim’s jaw and forced it open with his fingers.

“Shit-” Tim whispered. His tone of voice sounded different. “Jay- don't. Seriously, please-”

Jason ignored him and let a few precious drops fall into Tim's forced open mouth. Then he forced Tim’s jaw shut again and clamped a hand over his mouth. He plugged Tim’s nose too, just for good measure.

The noises were muffled, but unmistakable. Jason’s body was thrumming just watching Tim twist and struggle to get out of Jason’s vice grip.

When Tim’s face started to turn red from the struggle for oxygen, Jason regretfully let go.

Tim immediately spat out mouthfuls of blood and spit, trying to get it out of his mouth. He was wheezing.

Not screaming, though. Jason was about it to lift the kris to stab Tim again, when he got a better look at how Tim was shaking.

Shudders running up and down his body. His legs were squeezed together. When he breathed, it came out in soft moans.

Jason’s heart almost stopped.

“You’re enjoying this, aren't you?” Jason murmured. So quiet he almost didn't hear himself. He got a glare from Tim that seemed to be an affirmation. Jason’s mouth curled into a cruel, unseen smile. Jason tapped the hilt of the kris against Tim’s crotch, making him flinch. “Freak.”

The realization only made Jason want to hurt Tim more. In all their fights, how hadn’t Jason noticed Tim was a masochist? This changed everything. He didn't have to hold back so much.

He actually wanted to see what it took to break Tim now.

Jason stabbed the shiv into Tim’s hip, as close as he could possibly get to Tim’s crotch. Tim squealed, flinching. Then his full body shuddered again. And just when Tim sighed in relief that Jason had avoided his most sensitive area, Jason picked up the tazer again and pressed it right there, against Tim’s crotch. And he turned it on.

This scream from Tim was different. Still tortured, but in a new Jason’s own pants were getting tight.

“Get out.”

“What?” Roman asked, when he realized Jason was talking to him.

“I said get out,” Jason repeated himself. He stared at Tim's bloody, shivering from. “You got a show while I warmed up, now I want some privacy.”

“But-”

Jason pulled a gun out of a holster. He fired it in Roman’s direction. Not quite hitting him, but instead blowing the cigar out of his mouth.

Roman made a pathetic, scared noise. “The deal was-”

“Do you want my men keeping the Maronis off your territory or not?” Jason growled.

“Fine.” Roman stood up, adjusting his jacket awkwardly. “Mail me a finger or something when you finish. I want a trophy.”

“I’ll save a middle one just for you.”

Roman scoffed, but held his tongue, storming out of the warehouse.

“Ass,” Jason muttered. He pulled off his helmet and tossed it aside.

“You didn't have to use the acid,” Tim said, notably sour about it.

“Big words for someone who enjoyed themselves a little too much.” Jason sliced off the rope holding Tim’s ankles and wrists, then tugged off his domino mask. Tim groaned in relief, getting to stretch his joints. He carefully got to his hands and knees, breathing hard.

“Thank you-”

Jason grabbed Tim by his hair and wrenched his head up. He pressed the kris to Tim’s throat. It pulled a gasp out of Tim and he tried to grab Jason’s arm. Jason just twisted his wrist, easily dislocating it. “Oh nuhuh, you little freak,” Jason purred, enjoying Tim’s yell of pain. He leaned in close to Tim’s ear and grinned, all kinds of fun ideas running through his head, now that they had privacy.

Things were about to get a lot more fun. Probably for both of them.

“I'm not done with you.”

[luciddaydreamingworlds]

More sketches of Q! Now with scars!! I sure do love drawing him, I really should make a proper reference sheet for him one of these days lol

Ft. Mikhail, Chloe, Maloof, and Truman Zanotto!

The bit with Truman is a bit of backstory. An explanation for why Q doesn't show up in the second game (not that I needed one, but I like to fit my OCs into existing stories when I can).

The reason why Q wasn't at the Motherlobe is because he had left with his old mentor for a chance at furthering his career as a Psychonaut. However, his mentor had "accidentally" let slip his identity as a trans man in the wrong company, which put him at high risk. Truman wanted to recover him sooner, but the whole deal with being kidnapped and his brain being swapped out for Gristol's put it off a bit longer than he intended, but never fear! Q was recovered shortly after all that was settled (along with his old mentor and a couple of other Psychonauts being fired for discrimination and unjust treatment). Unfortunately, it does mean he's still technically an intern, and he's in need of a new mentor.

Anyways, enough of that, meet Q's parents, Albert and Kristall! Both of them work for the Psychonauts.

Albert is one of Compton Boole's kids. Not only is he gifted with Zoolinguism, like his father, but he had spontaneously developed enhanced strength (hence why he's fkkn T H I C C). He's got a boisterous way of speaking, which is actually quite entertaining to listen to. Great at story-telling, and will often use Projection to aid in the stories. He loves his family (although some, he's not too happy with), and he especially loves his wife and his son. Albert wears gloves because of sensory issues.

Kristall is a Grulovian woman with no relation to Raz's family. When she was a young girl, she suffered a mysterious accident that replaced her eyes with pure crystal and left her blind. She's only ever told Albert what exactly had happened to her, but she says she'll tell Q when he's older (although he's insisted many times that he's quite old enough, thank you very much). Kristall is gifted with Geokinesis and Clairvoyance, although the latter was more out of necessity since she needed to see. Quite a bit unhinged, but very loving and endearing. She likes to crochet, and she was the one that made Q his sweater.

Both were a little thrown off when Q started identifying as a boy (mainly because he was so young when he did), but they're very supportive of him and try to help him as much as they can. Unfortunately, being Psychonauts with specialized powers (especially Kristall), they're sent out on missions quite often and are unable to give Q the attention that he needs. They always try to spend what little free time they have with him, call as often as they can, and make sure to send plenty of packages and letters to him.

They are. So close to retiring early just so they can spend what remains of Q's teenage years with him.

That's enough rambling for now. Hope yall enjoy!

[sporesgalaxy]

honestly fascinated by volo not recognizing scrangle as inhuman in the postgame stuff you offered earlier (which HAS been extremely helpful! i've been chewing on it in my brain) because to me volo's whole deal is so entrenched in his own humanity as compared to the world of dangerous creatures and equally dangerous deities he inhabits. like in pla itself and in much of his pokemas dialogue he emphasizes the frequency that someone with his profession and his background finds themselves in life-or-death situations, and for all he's willing to condemn the hisui he knows to unmaking he doesn't seem to view the suffering motivating him as exclusive (between "i imagine we all go through something like that" with his childhood issues and his expectation that the player has dreams of their own + acknowledgement that those dreams don't "leave room" for his own rather than being shocked or even accusatory that someone would be able or willing to stand against him) - like, in rebelling against the god he reveres even through his obsessive anger towards it ("what is it, then, that you find so lacking in me?!" furiously demanded from arceus after he's already professed his intentions towards it is probably my favorite line of his. fucking hits) he's already positioning himself as fundamantally below his opposition, but that's borne out even further by the hisui situation of humans struggling to compete in general. in a weird way him lumping in scrangle with the people he belongs to draws MORE parallels between the two than are even presently there by his own standards

OKAY HIHIHI SORRY I LEFT YOU HANGING A MILLION YEARS. I LOVED THIS I just had to go back and reexamine every decision I ever made about Volo in relation to Scrangle because YOU RAISE GREAT POINTS!

I admit that I think I got my character motivation timing mixed up when I wrote Volo saying "...Whether you are creative or delusional makes no difference to me, little girl." I don't think he'd have THAT much resentment toward Scrangle BEFORE they revealed that the Tyrant they want to destroy is Arceus.

HOWEVER, the other thing motivating that line from Volo was a potent mixture of disappointment and jealousy, which I think he'd already have plenty of by that point. Scrangle FELL FROM THE SKY in OBVIOUSLY ARCEUS-THEMED CLOTHING, and yet at every turn she shows TOTAL irreverence or even malice toward any suggestion of a higher power. Volo DOES have an odd sort-of humbleness about his place in the universe, despite his ambitions to ascend beyond that. So I imagined that someone like Scrangle acting like they're already above everything would really rub Volo the wrong way.

And then to see someone who acts and talks like Scrangle end up battered and bruised by the Frenzied Nobles just like any other human...what a letdown! None of Scrangle's victories against the Nobles were exactly clean-- well, her Pokemon could win cleanly once the Noble could be wrangled into an actual battle, but Scrangle always got pretty severely beat up in the process. Scrangle is good with Pokemon, but in every other respect they seems like theyre every bit the brash, clumsy, foolish child they appear to be, even moreso than the canon PLA protagonist. A Volo who was reckoning with a STRANGER appearing to have been chosen by Arceus from the beginning of the game (thanks to Scrangle's outfit) would I think be more susceptible to skepticism toward Scrangle, for the sake of his own ego as a "humble" pious scholar & Arceus devotee, who nonetheless thinks he can pull of rebuilding the entire world.

I really need to review Volo's interactions with the player thruout the middle of the story to get a finer tune on their whole thing, though. I have vague memories of thinking they'dve had some sour interactions at least one of the times Volo was investigating those runes...

[kc5rings]

A short something for the combined holiday of Muzzle Monday and it being Asbetos Arknights birthday, obviously nsfw under the cut

Ever read those stories about the wild sex people get up to in far north research stations? Me neither.

Tags: Bondage, spanking (tail style), bdsm, creative use of spelunking equipment, crying, practical applications of long lizard tongue

Base camps were always cramped.

Asbestos recognized the need for them but even when they were technically larger than her tent they always felt more confining.

Too solid.

Too permanent.

It had been several days journey already and this building was the last stop before the truly wild tundra, without another living soul for miles

Save of course, for the woman currently straddling her.

“There we go! Nice and secure, how’s it feel? Any circulation issues?”

Magallan’s voice was chipper as ever, like she was chatting about having had pleasant breakfast to start her day instead of having spent the last several minutes tying someone up.

“Like I’ve been kidnapped.”

Asbestos also sounded like her usual self, each word dripping with sarcasm and disdain. When her comment failed to dim Magallan’s thousand watt smile Asbestos sighed and flexed various parts of her body to properly triage herself, this would be a stupid way to get an injury and have to call off their expedition.

Magallan had been thorough, Asbestos had to admit. The basecamp only had one permanent cot, a solid metal frame that was firmly bolted to the floor meant it wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was Asbestos.

Ratchet straps used for securing gear now secured Asbestos’ legs to the cot frame at the ankle and thigh, holding them firmly in place and spreading her legs slightly. Smaller straps carefully tightened made for makeshift wrist cuffs that Magallan had then pulled up over Asbestos’ head, one tell tale click of a carabiner and she was well and truly stuck.

At least Magallan had left Asbestos with her thermal undersuit, one solid piece of tight fabric that covered everything save Asbestos’ hands, feet, head and tail. It didn’t have the shine of some of her club wear back home, but the compression was nice and too much direct skin to skin contact made Asbestos antsy anyway.

A quick test tug proved the bindings plenty sturdy, Asbestos couldn’t quite crane her head back to see what her wrists were bound to, but places like this always had hard points everywhere. Asbestos found herself appreciating Magellan’s resourcefulness in mostly using the equipment on hand for her game.

“No numbness, good blood flow, my shoulders are going to start bitching eventually with my arms up over my head like this but I can deal. This though…”

Asbestos jerked her chin up, clearly indicating the one thing Magallan had strapped in place that wasn’t scavenged from spelunking gear.

“Feels like overkill.”

Magallan laughed and reached her hand up to stroke the offending piece of gear, a close fitting cage of carbon fiber and nylon webbing that perfectly followed the contours of Asbestos’ face. You could be forgiven for thinking it was yet more scavenged equipment, but it was far to singular in its purpose to be anything other than what it was.

A muzzle.

“What you don’t like it? I even got Mayer to let me use her workshop equipment to make it for you.”

Asbestos turned her head sharply to the side in a pout, making a mental note to kill Mayer the next time she saw her. All while trying to push down the feelings that bubbled up at the thought of Magallan going out of her way to make something just her.

Outside the wind picked up, signaling a storm would be blowing through shortly, both experienced explorers making a mental note out of habit.

“Oh yes, muzzled like a beast is exactly how I wanted to spend my birthday, a real fucking trea-“

SMACK

Magallan’s smile never faded, even as she reached back and brought the flat of her hand down *hard* on the underside of Asbestos’ exposed tail. The effect is instant, Asbestos’ hips rise sharply as her back arches, accompanied by a sharp cry that slides down to a low moan as Magallan begins to rub the spot she just struck.

“That’s 1! This is your birthday trip after all so of course we’ve got to start things off with birthday spankings right?”

Red had flooded Asbestos’ face, both from the deep heat the slap had sparked between her legs and from embarrassment at the sound she’d made when it landed.

“Fuck you! You know how sensitive my tail is! Besides that’s way too many, I’m turning t-“

SMACK

Another sharp gasp, another arching of the back, this time with Magallan rolling her hips down onto Asbestos. Both of their protective gear was stacked in a corner which made for very little fabric between them, Magallan in only her slightly baggy sweater and tights. No direct contact but plenty enough to feel.

“I know how old you are, and don’t worry, I’ll keep a very strict count to make sure we don’t miss any!”

Asbestos writhed under Magallan, her not inconsiderable strength putting her restraints to the test, but they held firm. Asbestos was helpless against Magallans assault.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

A truly impressive string of profanity poured through the bars of Asbestos’ muzzle, making use of every swear in every language she’d learned throughout her travels. However by number fifteen or so, profanity had given way to choked gasps and by twenty, to occasional shuddering sobs.

Notably, none of this colorful language included Asbestos safeword, crevasse, nor did her free to move tail give the the established three taps against Magallan’s leg once words failed her. Either option would stop their game in its tracks, but Magallan had learned quite a long time ago that while Asbestos might be the hardest person on Terra to get to admit to what she wants, Asbestos was in no way shy about declaring when she didn’t want something.

So the spankings continued, one for every year that Asbestos had seen.

SMACK

Finally, the last blow landed. Asbestos’ head lolled to the side, mouth hanging open slightly and tears streaking one side of her face from the only eye that could still cry.

Magallan massaged the base of Asbestos’ tail as her other hand reached up to caress that tear stained cheek.

“There now… all done. You did so a good for me Asbestos, so so good.”

Asbestos had long since given up on words, choosing instead to nuzzle into Magallan’s touch. It was only moments like this, after Magallan tone the time to really break her down and crack her defenses that Asbestos could openly express her affection this way.

Ask Asbestos about it later and she’d just say it’s one of many things that make her a freak to be avoided, to Magallan though, it was one of her many charms. Like some of the most breathtaking views she’d seen on expeditions, a sight seen only by her.

“But it’s not a birthday without a treat is it? And you have been so good.”

Asbestos let the praise wash over her, a soothing balm after the hurt that felt all the more warm for being hard earned. She had been good and she wanted her treat.

“P-please…”

Magallan could play the sadist with ease for their games, but she truly didn’t think she could ever turn Asbestos down when she begged earnestly like that.

Magallan slid up from Asbestos’ waist until her knees where on either side of the bound woman’s head. Making sure she could steady herself on some equipment hooks on the wall Magallan reached down to push her tights down her legs until they were out of the way. Carefully, Magallan lowered herself until her slit was close enough to feel Asbestos’ labored breathing.

“Go on, enjoy your treat.”

Asbestos glazed over eyes shifted from excitement, to confusion, to frustration as her endorphin soaked brain tried to process this new situation. The muzzle was still in place, how was she supposed to…

“Sorry dear, but when you get like this you tend to get a bit too enthusiastic when you’re eating and I’ve had quite enough of those sharp teeth going where they aren’t wanted.”

Asbestos flushed red once more, realizing now that the custom made muzzle may not been crafted solely for her benefit.

“Oh don’t go getting shy on me, I had that made so you don’t need to be careful. Take everything you want, no need to hold back.”

Magallan’s ever present smile shifted to a conspiring smirk as she watched Asbestos try to puzzle out what she was meant to do.

“Come now, you’re a smart woman, an experienced explorer can always find the path through adversity right?”

Asbestos was on the verge of getting annoyed, if she couldn’t be trusted to use her mouth than what did Magallan expect her to-

Oh

Oh

Finally, Asbestos understood. It was embarrassing and surprisingly devious from Magallan but Asbestos couldn’t deny that making it hotter

Asbestos opened her mouth as much as her muzzle would allow, slowly extending her tongue out and up toward Magallan

Long, blue and thick, Asbestos’ tongue pushed through the confines of the muzzle, saliva letting it slip past with ease. While not quite as dextrous as her tail, Asbestos’ savra tongue could work wonders.

From her helpless position underneath her, Asbestos slid into Magallan, tongue twisting and coiling deeper into Magallan until the bars of Asbestos’ muzzle grew slick with her need and Magallan’s moans replaced Asbestos’ cries from only moments earlier.

The base camp had become a small smoldering spark of heat amidst endless frozen tundra, any sound that escaped from inside was carried off into the night by the howling winds.

Outside, the storm now raged. Inside, both explorers new they were likely to be snowed in for awhile. But neither of them could find it in themselves to care in that moment.

They had plenty of ways to pass the time.

[cloudy-em]

More Than a Mission - Chapter 1

"Alright, so it's easy," Rocket explained to the team. "Bangdat has this really old rock in the castle's private armory. It's got this metal called pnervonium in it. We get that, we make our big ass gun. We make our big ass gun, we can kill Geraldamine and free the Republic of Fendir. Make sense?"

The Guardians all nodded and hummed in affirmation, so Rocket continued.

"Adam, you get to be the star of our show here."

"B-But why me?" Adam had been continuing to learn and grow as he spent more time with the team. He was confident in his abilities as a fighter, and he knew he was intelligent, but he also now knew he wasn't a perfect being and that there was plenty more to learn. He wasn't sure that he would be the right one for this job. He could admit that his socials skills might've been...underdeveloped.

"Well, kid, you have class. Quill and I are assholes, Drax is an idiot 97% of the time, Mantis comes on a bit too strong, Groot isn't exactly the most desirable suitor, and Gamora and Nebula quite frankly have enough issues to deal with already. You're our only hope," Rocket explained. Adam hesitated before nodding his agreement and waiting for Rocket to further explain his role.

"You've gotta woo the princess."

"Woo the princess?"

"Woo the princess."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you go in, kill her parents, and tell her just how much she turns you on before you make love to her for 24 hours straight," Drax deadpanned.

"What the hell? No! Jesus, don't do that Adam!" Quill practically shouted. Adam was still trying to process half of what Drax had said, but knew better than to try. "You've got to be kind and polite. Get to know her, know her values. Impress her and her alive parents."

"Oh, okay, so I become friends with her?" Adam asked, trying to clarify his instructions.

"Well, sorta. You become really, really good friends with her. You've gotta get her to fall in love with you. Or at least get her to like you enough to let you down into the armory and you tell us the best way to get in. Once everyone's asleep, we sneak in, steal the stupid rock, take you, and get the hell off that planet," Rocket said.

Adam, still slightly confused, nodded. He could figure it out along the way.

"Good, cause we already sent the King and Queen notice of a new suitor coming their way."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam enjoyed his walk to the palace despite the frigid temperatures. Everything seemed peaceful in a way. Waterfalls and rivers were still running free, and plants he had never seen before were in bloom. The snow fell softly, and he heard it crunch under his boots as he approached the guards. Instead of stopping him, they bowed to him and let him pass. Rocket's message must've been pretty convincing.

He took in the architecture around him. It was beautiful, like something he'd seen in a storybook Mantis had found for him from another planet. The walls were pale blue and looked almost as if they'd been made from ice. The paintings in the ceiling told stories of brave knights and beautiful queens, all surrounded by metal that was so intricate, so delicate. Adam couldn't help but wonder what the King and Queen of Bangdat would be like. More importantly, what would the Princess be like?

On the trip to Bangdat, Quill had told him plenty of "fairytales" from Earth for educational purposes. Ones of Princesses being poisoned, cursed, and trapped. This princess, as far as he could tell, was not anything like that. Adam found himself longing for the "happily ever after" that repeated itself in Quill's tales. He knew it was just a mission, but what if it was something more?

Would his princess be warm, friendly, and kind? Would he protect her and keep her safe from the beasts of the universe? Would she read with him at night in front of a fireplace, calm and content?

Adam was lost in his thoughts, but as he approached more guards on his way to the throne room, he collected himself.

As he entered, a guard made an announcement.

"His Royal Highness, Adam, the Warlock of the Sovereign!"

He kneeled before the King and Queen, head down as a sigh of respect.

"You may stand, young prince," the King said. He and his wife were old, both wrinkled and with a white-grey hair that seemed silver in the light of the palace. "You think yourself to be a suitor worthy of the Princess of Bangdat?" he queried.

"I do, your Majesty," Adam confirmed confidently, just like Rocket told him.

"Then let you have one week with her, and then we shall see if she deems you worthy. Daughter?" The King called for the Princess.

And when she entered the throne room, Adam felt as if he saw the universe standing before him. The Princess of Bangdat was more beautiful than any creature he had ever laid eyes upon. Her eyes seemed to glow, and her dress complimented her shape and complexion.

The only problem was, she glared down at Adam.

"Let there be a ball in celebration of my daughter and her suitor tomorrow evening!" The King announced.

Adam grew worried. He had a week to get her to love him, and a day to make her comfortable enough to dance with him.

He would try his best.

[jdeowrites]

Announcing my next book!

It's true! I finally get to tell you, I've got another book coming!

See above the formal deal announcement. The way I pitched it to friends, however, was, “Think YA Breaking Bad but Walter White is a teenage mathlete and instead of cooking meth, she becomes the bookkeeper for a gang to help her friend pay off his debts.” And I can’t wait to share it in fall 2025! 

REASONS WE BREAK is a standalone YA rom-drama. However, for those who’ve read TJ POWAR HAS SOMETHING TO PROVE, it’s also a spinoff, and you’ll find several familiar faces in it. Including the two main characters… because yes, it’s Simran and Rajan’s story!

If you’re one of the people who’ve asked me about these two, I hope you’re at least half as delighted about this news as I am. :) But for those who need their memory jogged, Simran is TJ Powar’s straight-A, “good-girl” cousin; Rajan is the resident troublemaker-slacker of their class. I first had the idea that I wanted to write a book about them while writing TJ POWAR’s earliest drafts in 2019. I had stuck them in a scene together for convenience’s sake, and something clicked, chemistry-wise. So naturally I wanted to get into their heads.

Fast forward to 2020, when I was on submission to editors with TJ POWAR. I didn’t know if that book was going to sell, but I’d already decided that either way, I wanted to write a book about Simran and Rajan. By summer of 2021, the plot had taken shape. I wrote several more drafts feverishly through the rest of 2021. And it turned out to be a different sort of story. 

Although it’s a bit darker and ended up sold to another publisher, I still like to think of REASONS WE BREAK as TJ POWAR’s cousin. I mean, it literally is about TJ Powar’s cousin, but also thematically. Asides from the familiar characters, it also deals with plenty of coming-of-age issues, this time including: second gen immigrant guilt, grappling with your parents’ mortality, figuring out romance when you feel “behind” your peers in that realm, and the many ways in which gangs target vulnerable teens. The gang aspect in particular will be recognizable to Canadian readers, as it has a very non-fictional inspiration: the bloody history of Indo-Canadian organized crime, with young South Asians often its greatest victims. It’s a very nuanced topic that I could never hope to fully capture, but I at least attempted to explore one facet: how and why this specific group of immigrant kids, many of whom come from seemingly “normal”, stable families, get targeted and recruited into a life that attempts to destroy them. 

It’s a slight departure from the very lighthearted contemporary that my debut novel was but I hope you’ll come along for the ride. Initially, I actually did try to write a story that was more tonally similar—but I had to let go of that. My instincts told me to let these characters take me wherever they wanted to go. And Simran and Rajan really begged me to let them spread their wings and show me the most complex parts of themselves. After all, everyone you know growing up is struggling with different problems. Sometimes, very different problems. For example, you could be worrying about whether you missed a spot shaving while the kid sitting in the desk next to you is wondering whether they’ll make it alive to next week (totally RANDOM examples here obviously). Although both experiences are completely real and valid, this story is an ode to the latter. The kids who grow up too fast. The ones who endure horrors and shoulder burdens that even many adults could barely comprehend. 

How could I deny Simran and Rajan the opportunity to tell that story? A story that gave *me* just as much growth as it gave them? I COULD NOT. Which is why, even though it made it a bit harder to publish, you’re getting this story exactly as it was intended—and for that, I could not be happier.

Add Reasons We Break to StoryGraph!

[melonteee]

Unpopular Opinion: It doesn't bother me that Yamato hasn't joined the crew.

Yamato is not a character that catches my attention, maybe it's because the only thing he has is the fact that he is trans and that he thinks he is kozuki oden (And I'm not going to lie to you, that got annoying pretty quickly), or maybe Maybe it's because it's very noticeable that he was a character that Oda created and didn't Think much about His role and because of that he didn't do much in the entire Raid (he doesn't even have a major fight in all of Onigashima, he just exchanges a few blows with Kaido).

And it may be that if he had joined he would have eventually become an interesting character, but with everything we saw in Wano, I don't mind that he stayed in Wano.

(Sorry For The Long Rant, but i wanted to share My Toughts With someone)

(Love Your Vídeos)

Anon you've hit something here cause I DO think there was much more interesting things with Yamato aside from he's trans (which in all realness is a bit of an odd thing to say but I know you didn't mean anything negative by that) BUT the biggest issue with his joining, is everything interesting surrounding Yamato connects him to WANO.

LONG POST sorry for that

I was saying from the start I NEVER expected Yamato to join and it felt like another Vivi situation to me, where we were cock teased to hell and back by Vivi joining but, in the end, she didn't officially join. And when you think about Vivi, and you think about her story, you realise all of her passions and goals were directly connected to Alabasta. In current day story, this is beginning to change, hence why there's possibility of her joining the Strawhats permanently now (IMO!!! TO ME!!!)

Yamato's own focus was completely around Oden, and yes he wanted to see the world, but he had a MUCH stronger connection to the land of Wano and to the CHARACTERS of Wano. I don't think it was a split decision by Oda at ALL to have Yamato not join, because we can SEE there was plenty of implications Yamato would stay in Wano for both the country and for the people.

A major example is the fact the land of Wano fell into disarray due to Oden's leaving. This was his biggest guilt and burden of his life. Yamato was very nearly about to follow in Oden's footsteps and possibly have the same thing happen, but instead he decided to stay to protect the land of Wano as he saw - with Kaido now gone - the island was open to attackers (especially the world gov) who wanted to profit off it. The reason Yamato is such a strong individual was not for the Strawhat's sake, but for Wano. And, with Yamato choosing to selflessly stay and protect Wano - he's made up for Oden's guilt of originally leaving it and having it fall apart due to his absence.

Another major example is his connection with Momo! It's shocking to me that no one seemed to notice Yamato's building of relationship in the entirety of Wano had NOTHING to do with Luffy, but with Momo! Yamato stuck with and encouraged Momo throughout the near entire raid on Onigashima, and it was kind of a set deal to me that Yamato would definitely stay back and help Momo rebuild the land of Wano at that point. After all, if we think about the other members joining, they always had a large amount of time or a significant moment with Luffy. Even Robin in Alabasta saved him from death and gave him his hat, while Franky didn't exactly connect directly with Luffy, but with Usopp throughout a lot of Water 7.

All of Yamato's significant moments were with Momo, all his relationship building was with Momo, and Yamato more so just observed Luffy fighting than really connecting with him.

What I'm saying here is, I truly do see Yamato saying he'll join as a huge red herring. And while it may not have been the smartest gotcha moment, I think it's unfair to say Oda just decided to veto a decision in ten seconds due to whatever ridiculous reasons people were coming up with. Especially when I, personally, saw a lot against the idea of Yamato joining - just like with Vivi.

As I'm sure we all know, adding a new Strawhat is a HUGE deal, for both the story and for merchandising purposes (lmao). So I really don't think Oda would just decide against adding a Strawhat like, two chapters later because he got cold feet or something. I think there's plenty enough in Yamato's story to show us he had other major priorities to attend to, and had connections he now had to protect and nurture within Wano.

[wildwinterlunas]

Hi! i know you already get those asks but i really want to vent: i think them making pharmercy canon now would not be satisfating for me - im a lesbian, i feel like there was no indication since the game release that they have anything for each other, if anything mercy was very close to genji, they were very sutil with that, and all pharmercy 'flirt' lines are so recent feels like rushed. One of my favorite lesbian ships ever is Caitlyn and Vi from league, they construed they relationship for YEARs, from partners to lovers and just NOW in 2023 after years and everything they confirmed both as lesbians and even in Arcane they doing great with their romance. another exemple is leona and diana and killjoy with reze in valorant, compared with overwatch feels like they dont know how to develop a organic/fresh relationship between their female characters from the game, rigth now looks just pandering for me.

And yeah I do see where your coming from, Gency has had years of build up in canon while Pharmercy has just started being pushed. Though because of the fact that in the past we've seen OW writers say that they ship Pharmercy I don't think it pandering exactly. I think it's more wish fulfilment.

I also agree with what you're saying about what happened in other games when it comes to LGBTQ+ rep, those ships have had build up. To the point where I, a person who doesn't play either game, know what your talking about. I myself am also a lesbian and I have recognized Pharah as lesbian coded since I first got into Overwatch, which was back in 2016, they've had plenty of time to add things like voice lines or lore to this relationship but they haven't. I looked up their old Overwatch 1 interactions for this post and basically none of them have that flirting vibe that the new voice lines have, most of the personal ones being Mercy saying how she thinks Ana would be proud of Pharah and Pharah just going "are we talking about the same person here?"

Also I've stated it briefly in other posts on Pharmercy but I just don't think they would work, at least they wouldn't stay a couple for a long time. A big thing that people forget when it comes to Pharmercy is that Angela has a lot of issues she needs to sort out, one of those being her terrible communication skills and her ability to say goodbye to people. The reason this is important is because Fareeha has abandonment issues, and we see how Angela's inability to communicate already affects their relationship in "As You Are", we clearly see that Angela leaving without saying goodbye affected Pharah.

This also culminates into this being a story where one person has to wait for the other to sort out their issues, which is something I don't want for Pharah. This plot line with Gency works because it's mutual. If Pharah is going to be with someone I either want them to be dealing with something that Pharah can actually help with (like Symmetra and her inevitable identity crisis) or for her partner to be just as sure of herself as Pharah is (like Sombra or Kiriko).

Again I don't want Pharah to have to wait for Angela to get her issues sorted out, she already has to wait for her mother to come back, she shouldn't have to wait for her romantic life either, and Angela's problems are not something Pharah is really equipped to help with. We actually see how Genji and Angela talk while Pharah tends to offer silent support.

I don't hate Pharmercy and under different circumstances I think they would work, however, not only are the writers kind of fumbling to get me invested but Pharah and Mercy have so many things working against them on a personal level. Not only that but they're fundementally different morally, I think a lot of people forget that Angela doesn't like helix calling them mercenaries with no regard for civilian life, while knowing full well that Pharah works for Helix. That kind of difference would work in a friendship but that would not go well in a romantic relationship.

Anyway, again I don't hate Pharmercy, it's not one of my top ships but I do like it. However, what has been presented in canon either just doesn't get me invested or I just don't want to see happen in terms of characterization (again Pharah shouldn't have to wait for her romantic life in the same way she needs to wait for her family).

[quietbooklion]

Thoughts on: Oji

Finally. It's finally time to talk about my #1 favorite character in all of Ayakashi Romance Reborn. This man captured my heart the moment I saw him. He is handsome, he is beautiful, he is perfection, he is talented, he is amazing, he is everything.

I may sound like a complete simp for Oji but I can't help it. I absolutely love everything about this man, what he represents, and how much of a daddy/zaddy he is. That being said, as much as I love him, the same can't be said for his story, unfortunately. I still thought it was decent but I had lots of issues with it.

*This review will contain spoilers, you have been warned*

To start off with the positives, I think that Oji's story tackles grief and blame in such a great and almost painful way. When it comes to grief, it can take the form of many different emotions and actions. In the case of Oji, he puts a lot of unnecessary blame on himself because he feels responsible for what happened to the lover of his past life. I think that we as people sometimes blame ourselves for no reason when something bad happens because a part of us doesn't want to deal with it and when we do, it's painful to acknowledge it. Oji encapsulates that, it's very heart wrenching to see him take the burden and responsibility of something he didn't even really do. He is a different person than his past incarnation, but it was so ingrained in him, he can't help but feel responsible. He even believes he doesn't deserve to be happy. Grief doesn't always make sense. It makes people do and say things they wouldn't otherwise agree with.

My heart ached for his man. I wanted so much to just hug him. He truly believes things would've been better had he not gotten involved with Asa to the point where his current incarnation still holds those feelings a thousand years later. Which is why it's so uplifting to see him coming to terms with his grief. To see him grow from being pessimistic about his own happiness to understanding that he's not alone and deserves happiness was so satisfying.

As much as I do love Oji and how the story talked about grief, I think that this story has a lot of issues. Torn isn't exactly how I feel but it's close enough because for all the things I liked, there are plenty of thing I didn't like.

To start off with my dislikes, I did not like Futaba in this story. When it comes to MCs, they vary from route to route and for the most part I do like Futaba as an MC. She's someone who was pretty much thrown into a world that was unknown to her and she must not only fight spirits but also people whose very ideals are different from hers. She isn't perfect but she's also a compassionate person who can be selfless in her goals of not only helping her friends, but the Capital. However, in Oji's route, she really got on my nerves. She made so many, many bad decision that not only got her in trouble, but those around her as well. One of the main conflicts of the story is Akiyasu trying to complete the ritual that was seen in the Dawn faction. He discovers that a group of Wraiths is harboring Asa, the spirit and lover of Oji's past incarnation. Akiyasu notices how Futaba wants to free her and offers her a doll that will separate Asa from the Wraiths but it comes at a cost. She takes it anyway but when she's asked by Oji and the others where she got the doll, she doesn't say.

Excuse me, what? Why would she knowingly hide information like that? Especially when she knows she can't trust Akiyasu! And when markings appear on her arm, she hides it despite the others knowing something is up. There's stubborn and there's being stupid and I'm sorry if I sound mean but Futaba was being so ridiculous about hiding crucial information about an enemy and hiding a potential threat to her life. She claims she doesn't want to burden the others with her problems but even so, she was being absolutely stubborn for no reason. She kept making so many bad decisions, I'm surprised she's still alive. Plot armor was literally carrying her throughout most of the story.

And as much as I do love Oji, he's also at fault here because like Futaba, he was being so darned stubborn. I understand why he thinks he can't rely on others and why he keeps his secrets, but he could've solved so many things if he had been upfront about how he feels in regards to Asa, Futaba's safety, and Akiyasu. He and Futaba need to get their priorities in check because they were nowhere to be found.

My second issue is basically a repeat of the previous stories where the 'romance' was non-existent. Except this time, it was somehow worse. Like with Shizuki, this romance felt forced because out of nowhere the MC develops a crush on Oji even though it feels misplaced. I say this because Futaba sees how Oji is a caring guy who is suffering from guilt at thinking his past incarnation was responsible for Asa's death. It's palpable enough that it causes Futaba's heart to ache from sympathy. But then out of nowhere she says this:

Repeating what I said earlier: Excuse me, what? You're telling me she fell in love with Oji was because she wants what he and Asa have. She wanted to be like Asa. What??? This doesn't make sense. I get that she feels envious of seeing such a loving relationship, but this just feels totally misplaced on her part. She sympathizes with Oji and wants to help him with his grief, but her feelings for him don't feel genuine based solely on the fact that she's somewhat envious of Asa. It's all misplaced. If this was supposed to make me feel the budding love she has for him, it was done badly.

My last issue is with the story direction. As mentioned earlier, this story in particular completely veered off from the Senkitai plot and went right back to Akiyasu basically doing what he did in the Dawn faction. If it weren't for the fact that Oji was the central character, I would've thought I was playing the Dawn faction again. I don't know why this kind of decision was made because it makes no sense why Akiyasu wanted to carry out the exact same plan but in the Twilight faction. One main thing about the Twilight faction that is different from the Dawn faction is the Stone of Destruction. That stone is not only an important item but it's powerful. Why was such an important item left out and replaced with Dawn faction story 2.0? It makes absolutely no sense why the Senkitai was not involved when they are the main focal point of the story. This was so disappointing on so many levels.

I wasn't really looking forward to writing this review. I think the way Oji's story tackled themes of grief, guilt, and even a bit of self-hatred was done excellently. It showed a vulnerable side to an otherwise unflappable man. I love how lazy he is, I love how caring and protective he is over Aoi, I love everything about this man. But so much of his story was bogged down with Futaba making bad decisions, the forced and misplaced romance, and the lackluster story.

Oji and Futaba deserved a better story than this.

3/5 stars.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (10) - Blood // Water

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4.4k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-The price of your greed is your son and your daughter. What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?-

You weren't at your best. You were far from it, really. Sure, the wounds healed, though slower than they should have since you kept pushing your body past your limit constantly, but the recovery and getting your strength and stamina back was another story. Soaked from head to toe in sweat from hours of working out, driven only by adrenaline and anger you cursed yourself for getting closer and closer to your limit.

Frustration, however, helped, as you slammed punch after punch into the bag. The sound of the hits echoed in the empty gym, since it's long been past the closing time. The owner knew your coach and it helped that your success brought some new people to his gym, so he let you use the equipment after hours.

You needed that. You were angry. At yourself for not stopping Tara. At Tara for putting you in that position when she asked you to leave. At Amber for starting all of this in the first place. Punch after punch, you hoped the next one would finally set you free from the anger. Yet with every punch you would be reminded of the recently healed injuries and that only made you more furious. You gritted your teeth as the cycle continued until you heard the doors opening.

"Y/N," you didn't stop pummeling the bag, it was just your coach. He faked a cough and you let out an exasperated sigh, finally turning to look at him, only to see a face you vaguely recognized.

"Hello, miss L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," the man next to your coach was Thomas Laurent, a former middleweight MMA fighter who had a promising start in his career, but then got seriously injured in his fight against Zack. He never truly recovered after that. Nowadays whenever someone mentions his name all they say is he had potential, but that the injury ended his career before he could reach his prime. From the looks of it, he kept training, and with no weight class to hold him to a certain weight you figured he was somewhere between light heavyweight and heavyweight now. He was thirty-seven and you were sure he could still give plenty of fighters a run for their money.

"What? You want to swap retirement stories?" you really had no desire to deal with him, or anyone else right now.

Your coach flinched for a moment, but Thomas merely laughed, it was a loud, hearty laugh and despite your mood, you wiped the scoff off your face and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, now a bit curious about his reasons for coming here.

"No, no, I'm here to make the greatest retirement spectacle women's MMA has ever seen," he boasted with confidence that made you genuinely intrigued.

"Is that so? And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?" you were pulling your gloves off, only now seeing how bloody your knuckles got. There were bloodstains on your bandages. Both Thomas and your coach noticed that, seeing as their eyes widened when they saw the state of your hands. "Long day yesterday, I had a lot of pent-up frustration," you explained as you shoved the gloves into your bag, not really bothered by scrapped knuckles. The tiny scars you had accumulated from training had long since stopped bothering you. “What did you have in mind?”

Thomas nodded, disregarding the state of your hands as you winced and peeled the bandages off. "You have two fights, so let's make history. You'll fight at the end of November against one of the previous title challengers and then, on the ninth of December, if you accept, you'll challenge Anya Golubeva," Thomas didn't need to explain any further.

Anya Golubeva has been the women's featherweight champion for the past five years, with good grappling and explosive punches, she hardly left any openings. In addition to that you would fight someone around her skill level two to three weeks before that fight. He wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to make history. You'd have one of the shortest, if not the shortest, breaks between two fights, and in case you won the second fight you'd retire as the world champion.

You didn't ask how he could make it happen. You didn't need to know. You knew just one thing, that would be an issue. You couldn't prepare for those fights in Woodsboro. No sparring partner, the gym that lacked equipment... You'd have to leave as soon as tomorrow.

If Tara hadn't told you to leave her, you would have gone to see her, to talk with her. But she told you to leave, and as much as you loved her, you weren't about to waste this opportunity. You’ll see Tara in two months. "I'm in," this was your only chance to make Zack, and your own, dream become a reality, and you were not about to miss out on it.

~X~

Being in, however, meant calling Sam to handle your absence. So, that's how the two of you were sitting in Woodsbo-Restaurant. She looked tense, though you couldn't see any anger, at least on the surface.

"So, did Tara tell you what happened?" you guessed she probably did, it's been over forty-eight hours since Tara left your apartment, and you haven't seen her since. That alone would have been enough for anyone who knew you and Tara to figure out something happened. You were actually surprised Mindy didn’t text you to get you to fix things.

Sam sighed, but instead of answering she added sugar to her coffee and began stirring it. Honestly, you were growing impatient. "About retirement, or how she asked you to leave her?" she finally spoke up, her eyes staring into your soul.

You slumped into your seat, consumed by the look on her face when she asked that of you. Sam was disappointed, worried, she wasn’t angry, but you could tell she absolutely wasn’t happy with either you or Tara. "Both, I guess. Not that it matters. I'm leaving Woodsboro, I won't be here for two months," you told her and placed a key to your apartment on the table.

"You're leaving? You'll actually listen to Tara?" Sam got up, pressing her palms against the table and leaning over it toward you. There was anger in her eyes now and most people would have backed away, intimidated by Sam.

You weren’t most people. "Yes, but not because of what Tara said. I'll have two of the biggest fights of my life by the end of those two months and I'm not about to fuck it up," you didn't even budge when Sam got up. You slid the key across the table and met Sam's angry glare. "Tara is free to spend as much time in my apartment as she wants. She can sleep there, move in, whatever she wants. You can work here since there's about to be an open spot starting today," you had no intention of stopping, you needed Sam to hear you out.

You straightened your posture as Sam began sitting down. "Tara and I grew too codependent, Sam. We grew too attached to guilt. If it spirals out of control she'll stay by my side because she feels guilty for my retirement and I'll stay because I'll feel guilty for not being there to protect her the first time, for letting Amber make her vulnerable and not noticing she was a danger to Tara. Love built on guilt isn't love, it's just regret," you stood up, leaving enough money to pay the bill, and began walking away. You didn't have any time left. Your coach was already waiting for you outside the restaurant.

"Y/N, I'm sorry I dragged Tara into all of that," Sam's declaration didn't surprise you, she felt even more guilty than Tara or you did. All three of you were being consumed by guilt, and it had to stop, otherwise living a normal life would become impossible.

"It's not your fault those two were crazy," you stopped and turned to look at her.

Sam shook her head, surprising you for a moment. "It is. Billy Loomis is my father, and that's why all of that happened."

It was actually the first time you heard Sam and Tara were half-sisters. Not that it mattered. "It's not, Sam. Who your parents are has nothing to do with it. It's an insane excuse made by insane people," you shrugged and offered her a smile. "So, how about this? Instead of being Billy and Christina's daughter, how about you just remain Tara's sister?"

The last thing you expected was for Sam to grab and pull you into a hug. Whispering a small, emotion filled 'Thank you' as you patted her on the back. You had no idea when Sam found out about Billy, but things somehow began making sense. Why Sam left, why she was distancing herself from Tara when they were younger, maybe even why Tara’s dad left. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that at least some of it was connected to Billy Loomis.

“Take care of Tara,” you requested, though you understood there was no need to ask for that, but you did anyway.

~X~

You left, you actually left and Tara couldn’t reach you, you weren’t answering your phone. It’s been three weeks since she last set foot in your apartment, she didn’t want to make Sam do more than she was already doing for her. And she missed your presence more than ever. Was this how you felt when Tara was with Amber? Alone? Lost? Tara guessed you did.

Her leg was finally healed, and she could walk once again, though she was yet to recover her strength. It would take some time and going up the stairs all the way to the third floor to your apartment exhausted her more than she predicted it would. How much stamina did you have when you could, as injured as you were, climb up those same stairs while holding her in your arms? It was just another reason to admire how strong you were. She unlocked your doors and was met with a familiar scent, her anxiety lowering almost instantly as she was reminded of you. The place was almost exactly the same as when she left, only this time your bag was missing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, feeling like she had to say it as she locked the doors behind her. She moved on autopilot, going to your bed and lying down. She shouldn’t have told you to leave her, and sure, she understood you would have left anyway to prepare for your fights, but she still shouldn’t have told you to leave her. She should have been there to see you off, she should have been the one you gave your spare key to, she should have hugged you and told you to be careful, she should have told you she loved you, or she should have thanked you or at least told you that she would miss you.

Anything would have been better than telling you to leave her.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed your phone on the nightstand drawer, left there, likely on purpose. Her eyes widened and she sat up to take it, just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Her cheeks turned red when she noticed the photo of you and her, hugging, as your lock screen, but she couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t know, you rarely used your phone while you were with her.

~X~

Fresh out of the shower, you stumbled into the apartment above the gym Thomas had you training and living in, and dropped to the floor, not even having any strength to get to bed. You just needed to take a quick nap and then you’d move to your bed, at least that was the plan. But, much like many of the previous nights you woke up on the floor as the first rays of sunlight entered the room. And you didn’t wake up naturally either, you were woken up by Thomas and your coach knocking on your doors.

“Up you go, Y/N!” Thomas bellowed as you pushed your body up from the floor.

“Easy for you to say, unless we’re sparring you’re just overlooking my training,” you grumbled and groaned as you stood up.

~X~

Six weeks, six days, and thirteen hours. That was the last time Tara saw you, heard your voice, touched you, spoke to you. That was when she told you to leave her. So much has changed. In the few weeks since she went to your apartment and found your phone. She cut contact with her mom and moved into your apartment because she couldn't take it anymore and just needed a semblance of you in her life.

And seeing as you left your phone behind no one could reach you, not her, not Susan, no one. So, that's how she ended up in Sacramento with Sam, Mindy, and Chad, waiting for your second-to-last fight.

“Who is she fighting anyway?” she found herself asking, almost a bit excited to watch the fight, if only so she could see you.

“Uh, not sure, but her opponent fought for the title before and lost in a fairly even fight, there wasn’t even a knockout,” Chad told her. Ever since you began fighting Chad was her source of information.

You opponent fought for the title before? So, she was close in strength to the world champion? Tara remembered how you came back after your first fight and she couldn't do it, she couldn’t watch the fight. Despite being excited to see you, she just couldn’t handle seeing you get hit. You probably still haven't fully recovered from what Amber and Richie did to you, what Amber forced Tara to do to you. So, she'd miss the start, maybe even miss the entire first round or two, because she couldn't take watching you get hurt.

“Tara?” Sam question as Tara stood up.

“I need a moment, don’t worry,” Tara assured her softly and went toward the kitchen.

“Tara, uh, can’t exactly watch Y/N’s fights. Because Y/N gets hurt,” she heard Chad explaining and Sam’s small ‘Oh,’ at that.

She entered the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She felt cold, she missed you, she wanted to be near you, to grab onto you and not let go. Instead, all she could do was clutch the necklace you gave her, all she could do was hold onto it as she hugged herself. A sob tore through her throat, but she stopped herself when she heard the doors opening.

"Tara, honey, it's about to start," Susan came in. The woman became Tara's ally since you left, offering reassurance and convincing Tara you'd come back. Somehow, her words held more weight than anyone else's when it came to you, and Tara somewhat believed her.

"I don't think I can," Tara admitted, ashamed that she couldn't watch you even now that she knew how much it meant to Susan and you. That she couldn't watch you even if it was her fault that ten days from now, you'd be out of MMA.

Susan gently rubbed Tara's left shoulder. "I get it, how about we just sit here then. I'll go and turn the volume up so we can hear what is happening. Is that okay?"

Tara nodded and sat down, thankful that the woman understood and was willing to stay by her side to support her. She watched as Susan turned to go and get the volume up, only to freeze on the doorstep. "It's over."

Tara felt her blood run cold. Over? What was over? The fight? She ran outside of the kitchen and took in the sight in front of her. Chad sitting there with his mouth wide open. Mindy was frozen as she leaned over to Sam to grab the popcorn. Sam just watching the TV wide-eyed and confused. And you on the TV, without a single scratch, just standing with one fist raised in the air.

She watched as the fight replayed on the TV, right from the start. Your opponent approached, and opened with a punch, only for you to counter with a punch straight to her face and she just dropped. Six seconds into the fight. You knocked the woman out in six seconds.

She just stood there, taking your figure in. Her heart beat out of rhythm as she saw the results of your training, the defined muscles, the power and speed you possessed. Tara had never spent this long away from you, even when she was with Amber you two still hung out as a part of the same friend group and though rarely you still spent some time alone as well, and seeing you like this, so abruptly and so briefly made her realize exactly how much that affected her.

"How's the ogling going, T," Mindy's teasing made her look away. She wasn't ogling, she was just looking.

Less than two weeks to go. You'd come back to her soon.

When the title match came Tara watched with Sam, Chad and Mindy in your apartment and she nearly had an asthma attack as she watched you take hit after hit.

~X~

This was the end, in half an hour you'd step into the octagon and have your final professional fight. Yet you never felt more relaxed than you were tonight.

The doors opened and you expected to see your coach. Instead, you saw Anya Golubeva, a blonde Russian with piercing blue eyes. You met recently but between promotions that required some hostility, you didn't have any other interactions with her.

"Hello, Y/N," her accent was thick, and you stood up as she approached you. She was 5 foot 8, almost an inch and a half shorter than you, but considering her skill and strength it felt like there was no difference at all.

"Anya," you nodded to greet her, the two of you already met, and you did the usual trash talking that was supposed to hype people up for the fight, honestly, to you it was just part of the business, and from the looks of it she saw it the same way. No matter who won or what either of you would say in an interview after the fight, there wouldn’t be bad blood between you. At least you hoped that would be the case.

"I just wanted to say I am sorry this is how your career ends," the sentiment surprised you. "I wish I could have fought you at your peak, in a few years," despite being fine with the retirement that was somewhat of a regret. You'd never reach your professional peak, you were only twenty, most MMA fighters reached their peak sometime between twenty-five and twenty-eight years old. You could train, sure, but you doubted you'd reach the same heights you would've if your career continued.

Anya, however, was at her peak, in fact, most experts predicted she would wipe the floor with you prior to your previous match. Now that you knocked your opponent out in six seconds the predictions were different, and some even dared to bet on you.

You sat down, grinning a bit. "I guess that's right. I don't regret it, though."

"You were protecting a friend. Admirable, really," Anya nodded her approval.

"More than a friend, at least as far as feelings go," you blurted out, not really sure why you felt the need to say it. You just missed Tara so damn much.

Anya chuckled a bit and motioned to the bench next to you.

"Of course," at your words, she sat down and leaned her back against the wall.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"Tara," you replied, unable to keep the smile off her face.

Anya remained silent for a moment. "There's a river in the Balkans called Tara. In a small country called Montenegro. Its canyon is the deepest in Europe, so if you ever go there, make sure you take your girl rafting through it. I personally found it to be more exciting than most things I did in my life."

You had no idea there was a river called Tara, but you really wanted to see it now, and you wanted to take Tara with you. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

"Make sure you do, it really is an experience," she got up. "Well then, good luck," she offered you a hand.

You took her hand and nodded. "Good luck to you too."

Her behavior took you by surprise, there definitely weren't many fighters who were openly like this. Still, there would be no holding back. You had a fight and you were going to do everything in your power to win.

~X~

She was strong. You had never encountered a fighter that could match you like this. You traded blows, and you barely got out of her submissions. You couldn't make her submit. In the four minutes since the fight started, you managed to get her on the ground once, and she easily got out. You on the other hand found yourself on the ground for the second time, with your neck in a chokehold as she pressed down on your abdomen and kept your legs immobile by holding them between her own.

In an almost desperate attempt not to lose in the first round, you managed to move your fist back enough to land a fairly strong blow to her side. Her grip on you loosened with a grunt coming above you. So, you hit her again, and then the third time before she finally let go enough for you to get your legs free and twist the position. She pushed against your abdomen with her legs, but you landed a solid right punch to her face. You raised your fist again, but just as you were about to hit her again the round ended, and you got up.

You gave one another a quick fist-bump, enjoying the way this fight was going as you separated. There was no malice in this fight. It was just a competition.

The second round started off much better. You circled each other, throwing faints, and testing the distance for a bit. You landed a low kick to her left leg, she in turn grazed your head. You exchanged a couple of punches, pulling away from one another with nearly simultaneous clean hits to the faces. You could feel blood dripping from your nose and your lower lip, you could feel the area around your left eye starting to swell. She wasn't doing much better, though. You landed an elbow on the side of her head, grazing her forehead in the process. From the looks of it, you also made a small cut on the side of her nose.

Both of you were bloody, both of you had taken several hard hits. Anya went in for a kick, but you pushed her back, landing a couple of good blows to her upper body. It wasn't enough. She quickly recovered, bouncing away from your assault. She hit you in the side with a nasty uppercut and you felt wind getting knocked out of your lungs, but you managed to block Anya's follow-up attack.

The following exchange ended in your favor when you landed three good blows to her head and upper body and finished it with a kick to the side.

You made a mistake, though. You misjudged the distance and her kick connected with your jaw. The next thing you knew you were slammed into the ground, feeling the back of your head bounce off the octagon mat and you just barely had enough consciousness to lift your forearms above your face to guard against the flurry of punches raining down upon you. And then, just as your guard was about to be shattered the round ended.

You stumbled to your side of the octagon, slowly regaining awareness of your surroundings as several icepacks were pressed against your face and sore muscles. You felt something warm trickling down your neck. You touched it and saw red. Blood. That kick made your scar bleed. Scar...

Tara.

Your breathing became steady, and you slowly shifted into the breathing pattern Zack taught you. In, out, two times in, out, in, two times out, in, out, two times in, out, in, two times out. Your head was getting clear again just as you were left on your own and just as the third round began.

You needed a bit more time, but Anya wouldn't let you have it. So, you went in, hoping a good offense would give you that precious time. You managed to surprise her, catching her in a clinch and landing two good uppercuts to her face before she pulled back. There was a smirk on her face, indicating she wasn't annoyed by your continued resistance.

You smirked back, going for a quick exchange of punches that ended with a side kick from you. The two of you had a few more exchanges, trading blow after blow and it wasn't clear who was getting the upper hand. the second minute of the third round was already halfway done when Anya went in for and went for a grapple. You had no time to react, no time to think, you just went in for a flying knee and got her right in the face. She dropped and you stumbled away from her, barely registering that the collision of her and your momentum made that hit much more effective than it ordinarily would be.

It was over.

Third round, twelve minutes in total and you were the champion. The end results of your career. Two years and five months of fighting. Thirteen fights. Thirteen wins. Twelve by a knock-out. You were the world featherweight champion. You were retired.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[foxymoxynoona]

I'll admit I'm struggling with this story, lol. I'm trying to figure out your plan, and not-so-secretly love that I can't. One thing I have noticed, and it might just be my sharp JK bias, but other than when Sasha dumped him, it almost feels like he's always the "bad guy", the one doing stupid shit that causes problems for them. So much so that when I read these other asks, most readers are usually on Sashs's "side" of whatever the current conflict is. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm waiting for something to make me understand why she loves him and stays with him. Sometimes the relationship feels uneven. Yet I know it's not and that she most definitely has her issues. But, he has to have issues too, right? The way he grew up in the spotlight, privileged, prodigious, but also imprisoned in a lot of ways. I don't know what I'm saying here exactly, but I just wonder if his acting out/rebelliousness needs some addressing? If maybe he wanted to be caught? I'm sorry for rambling. I'm avoiding going back to work. Can't wait for what you have planned, as always.

😎 It's great fun watching the tide go back and forth and often eddy into division about who's giving more or causing more problems or pulling more of their weight. There are definitely plenty of "why is she with him" comments but also just about as many "she's holding out on him" comments, etc etc. You could say that Sasha has some deeper attachment issues that impact the relationship while JK is more likely to make short-sighted mistakes, but there are also examples of the opposite for both of them. Truly a mess, haha!

I think I've mentioned before, I think Flux was a lot of rapid growth for Sasha due to her internal conflicts imploding. My Matryoshka leans more into Jungkook's struggles, which surfaced in the last book when he basically melted down over their breakup but were sort of tamped down as he focused on Sasha. Many readers had commented about feeling like Jungkook didn't actually realize or address just how much he struggled in Flux --and here we are in My Matryoshka seeing more things bubble, some of which are his own doing and some of which are a result of his career/lifestyle. He's been pushing boundaries more and more over time as he tries to develop a sense of control and his own identity. It makes sense Sasha is a boundary he'll push against too --and arguably that can be a positive thing, for him to feel confident and secure enough to test that relationship, but the context of boundary pushing is not necessarily... comfortable, let's say.

I think what I'm trying to say is, sometimes "bad" (rebellious, acting out, however you want to phrase it) behavior has a really important ,valuable developmental reason. Look at toddlers and teenagers and the hell they can put their loved ones through 😂 Originally Sasha was part of his boundary pushing, then she became a boundary to push against, and so on.

As for the question "why does she love him/be with him" or the reverse comes up a lot with readers and it's very interesting to me. Why is anyone with the person they're with? Some blend of ilogical emotion/attachment, careful evaluation, choice, and stubbornness despite the difficulties. I suppose there are relationships where things are only ever easy, but for many in long term relationships there are going to be rough patches and it comes down to the individuals in the relationship and how they decide for themselves what's worth staying for or when it's time to leave. From my own personal experience, life can get hard in ways it's impossible to predict, and the impact that past trauma can have on a relationship can be really, really hard to work through on top of that. Hard doesn't necessarily mean not worth it!

It makes sense that we spend a great deal of time evaluating the relationships we see in stories to decide our own boundaries and needs. In this case, I do have a master plan of what I'm trying to convey with their relationship, but it's a long term message. Sometimes I'm so impatient and wish I could just skip ahead or give the answers, but the journey is part of it 😎 So we will all have to be patient and live it.

Trust me, it's harder for me to be patient hahah

[britneyshakespearess]

Acts of Desperation

5/5

When I picked up this book, I was not expecting what I got—in the best way. I left this book quite literally feeling ill. The kind of ill where you're suddenly reminded of some terrible experience you had, the feelings it conjured heretofore impossible to articulate fully, like an open scrape that you're too scared to pour disinfectant on because you know its going to burn like hell and it already hurts more than enough. And, in many ways (and I do mean many ways, over and over and over) that's exactly what Acts of Desperation does. Megan Nolan manages to describe and make coherent dozens of small and large experiences that feel isolating to everyone in them, but are all too common, particularly for women, for anyone at the mercy of the social dynamics that condition them to contort themselves physically and emotionally for the approval of men. This sounds like ground that's been covered before, and much of it has, but Nolan, decked out in a hazmat suit of wisdom and self reflection, ventures into the Chernobyl of modern feminism. As Nina Renata Aron wrote for the Los Angeles Times (conveniently blurbed on the back of my copy of the book), "what Acts of Desperation illuminates best is the chasm, sadly still enormous, between feminist politics and personal predicaments of love, sex, and romance." I would go even further—Nolan lays bare the impulses that we, as feminists, raised under the girlbossified banner of early aughts strong womanhood, try our best to pretend we don't have, never dwelling on them too long, certainly never voicing them aloud. I didn't feel sick after finishing this book because it punched me in the gut; I felt sick after finishing this book because it punched me in the gut over and over for 279 pages. I got my ass handed to me (emotionally) by this book.

The summary on the back cover sounds like a sort of Ottessa-Moshfegh-does-Fatal-Attraction thing (which, to be fair, is something I was clearly still interested in reading) which isn't an apt comparison, or it is insomuch as both Acts of Desperation and Fatal Attraction deal with female obsession—but that's where the similarities end. Our narrator isn't physically violent, nor does she rampage through the lives of others to sow fear and regret. No, she points all of her physical and emotional violence inward, martyring herself at the alter of love. In the first few pages of the book she explains,

Being with other people was, to me, the feeling of being realised. This was why I wanted to be in love. In love, you don't need the minute-to-minute physical presence of the beloved to realise you. Love itself sustains and validates the rotten moments you would otherwise be wasting while you practise being a person, pacing back and forth in your shitty apartment, holding off till seven to open the wine. Being in love blesses you with a sort of grace. A friend once told me he imagined his father or God watching him while he works, to help force productivity. Being in love was like that to me, a shield, a higher purpose, a promise to something outside of yourself. (10)

Over the course of Acts of Desperation, we watch our narrator self-flagellate with the obsessive goal of making an unavailable man love her. She isolates herself from friends and family, cooks and cleans, cuts herself, apologizes for nonexistent slights on her knees, starves, lies to him/herself/everyone, shapes herself around what this man wants, ignoring his obvious fixation on and strange relationship with his ex wife, all to earn his love. He doesn't ask her for any of this, but she knows it's all necessary, and it is. The problem I imagine many might have with this story is the obvious question: why him? Why at all? He is beautiful, but there are plenty of beautiful men. She has no real issues with getting men to want to sleep with her—but that's just part of the problem. She is mired in the toxic sludge of her own shame, the deep self-knowledge that she is not whole, not good or worthy. And so, she acts as both sculptor and Galatea, to borrow from The Metamorphoses, chiseling away at herself to carve out the ideal woman for Ciaran, who could never love her as she is, just as she cannot love herself. She doesn't feel worthy of trying to make herself whole and lovable for her own sake, she can only struggle to do so for someone who she sees as worthy of that labor.

I saw myself in the pages of Acts of Desperation in a way that probably would've gutted me at a different time in my life. I have been so infatuated with a man that I've changed myself without even realizing, I've felt the (un)holy calling of self improvement in the name of love, thinking it selfless, when in fact it's just sad. I have spent countless hours of my adult life sitting in anxiety over a man who I couldn't fathom voicing my needs to. Needs that I understood intellectually as being entirely reasonable, but which I had convinced myself were not under my specific set of circumstances. All of this is hard to admit now, to myself, let alone anyone else, and was impossible to speak of when it was happening. My own shame and embarrassment over my behavior, the female disempowerment I was wreaking on myself so at odds with my politics and my advice for anyone else, so strong that I couldn't look at what I was doing and name it, admit to it. Acts of Desperation names these things, examines them, and makes its readers bear with it through its painful work. It is not an emotionally easy read, but it is also compulsively readable, and that too is part of Nolan's brilliance.

Nolan names other experiences that so many of us try to keep tucked in the shadows of our minds, the gray areas that muddle consent into something too complicated for either party to want to grapple with, the things we think and say about other women as soon as we feel justified, the momentary glitter of any man's attention in the right moment, our ability to objectify men right back and call it justified, the at times crippling desire to be loved and our inability to take seriously the loves of others that we already have.

Acts of Desperation may have punched me in the gut, but that pain was also a catharsis. So many of the experiences and feelings Nolan explores in the book are so ugly that we feel isolated when we experience them, are too afraid of judgment to speak aloud so that we remain permanently isolated in them. Reading this book is both the disinfectant on the wound and the soothing rush of cold air after the burn. Through the ugliness, Nolan pulls us out of our isolation and lessens our shame. If we can empathize for her narrator, we can empathize with ourselves.

[tetsunabouquet]

i just saw a Haizaki post, but it got me thinking and I just want to say it: Can we normalize 'daddy íssues'?

It's far from having a daddy kink, but is about the trauma and impact it has for a kid to grow up only with a mother. A personal example of this is when I was 13 years old. I have a deadbeat dad, and there was another girl in my class who's dad had died when her mom was pregnant or something. Our teacher actually thought with father's day coming up, to have a conversation with our class about what it actually was like to grow up without one. Not long after this conversation, one of my bullies came up to me and said, "No one will ever love you, because not even your dad can." This remark still brings tears to my eyes at the age of 25, and this is a traumatic memory my therapist actually noted down for a future EMDR session. Another girl in our class had a father who played a role in her life, but her parents were divorced. Oh my, Cassie from Euphoria seems exactly like the kind of girl she was becoming. Sure, there are great single parents out there and great stories of remarriages, etc. But single parents who aren't are also extremely common, and so are broken homes and kids not liking the person their parent remarried. We should normalize the issues from single parent households and problematic evil step-parents (too many people consider that a fairy tale thing, when it happens plenty of times). Neither should we consider characters from single parent households who are screwed up because of it, as an insult to single parents who managed out fine. This isn't about them. Haizaki is the portrayal of a boy with daddy issues, deal with it.

[soul-of-the-sanada]

Memories of Christmas - Sariel Noir - Chapter 2

Sariel's Christmas event story, in his POV.

Chapter 2 Part 1

—

I stepped forward again, truly intending to leave her to it this time. However…

MC: Sariel, wait!

Sariel: Yes?

I turned back. She opened her mouth to say something, but then shook her head and laughed it off.

MC: No, just… Don’t push yourself too hard.

Sariel: I won’t.

(I get the sense she swallowed her initial words…)

I didn’t have to wait long to discover what those words were.

…

The next morning, MC had already visited my office with the question already on her lips.

MC: Isn’t there anything I can do to help you?

(I see–that must be what she tried to ask me last night.)

She’d said she was on the way to Chevalier’s room yesterday.

I had no doubt that the prince was able to discern exactly what she’d been thinking.

(He never cares to do anything that’s not strictly necessary, but…)

It was possible that he had graced her with his advice in return for finding the rare book he’d requested.

(In which case…)

Sariel: You’re already plenty busy with your job and your usual lessons, no?

MC: Like I said, it looks like we’ll be able to finish up early at the bookstore. Also…

She met my gaze, unyielding.

MC: Could you test me during our lesson today?

Chapter 2 Part 2

—

MC: Could you test me during our lesson today?

(...A-ha.)

(There have been plenty of occasions where she has dutifully worked on her studies before coming to our lessons, but…)

On this occasion, it was highly possible that she had crammed her knowledge with a view to strike a deal with me.

MC: If I pass the test, I’d like you to offload some of your work onto me.

(There it is.)

She was well aware that I would not permit her assistance under normal circumstances.

I suspected the reason she stopped herself from asking last night was because she was yet to calculate what it would take to convince me.

(Either she gleaned something from her conversation with Prince Chevalier, or she spent all night coming up with a plan.)

(That’s why she came here first thing to make me agree to her terms.)

Faced with her steely, resolute gaze, all I could do was give a deep sigh.

(Goodness me… Your rate of improvement is nothing short of spectacular.)

Sariel: Very well. However, as I’m sure you’re aware, I will not be lenient or go easy on you.

MC: Of course. I understand.

…

In order to deal with the ceaseless myriad of problems that continued to arise, I rushed about the palace giving out instructions.

Just as I was catching my breath after attending to a series of issues, I heard voices chatting brightly just past the end of the corridor.

(I can hear MC… and her faithful pet.)

Staying in the shadow of the door, I stealthily peeked into the room.

MC: It’d probably look better if you decorated the right hand side a little more.

Rio: Somewhere around here?

MC: Yup, perfect.

I looked in to see a superbly decorated room, along with the two individuals who completed it.

(I merely asked for the rooms open to guests to be decorated, but…)

This was MC we were talking about. She must have anticipated the fact that the princes would spend time here when choosing to decorate the room.

MC: Thanks, Rio! When you step back and look at it from afar, the decorations make a really pretty picture.

Panic rose within me as she took a step back only to catch her foot on the furniture, her gaze focused on the ceiling.

MC: Whoa!

Rio: MC!

She lost her balance and I leapt forward, just managing to catch her before she truly fell.

Sariel: I’m glad to see you absorbed in your work, but please don’t get too carried away.

MC: Oh, Sariel… Thank you.

I slowly reached for her cheek…

Chapter 2 Part 3

—

Panic rose within me as she took a step back only to catch her foot on the furniture, her gaze focused on the ceiling.

MC: Whoa!

Rio: MC!

She lost her balance and I leapt forward, just managing to catch her before she truly fell.

Sariel: I’m glad to see you absorbed in your work, but please don’t get too carried away.

MC: Oh, Sariel… Thank you.

I slowly reached up to stroke a thumb over her cheekbone.

Sariel: You were preoccupied with your studies rather than sleeping last night, weren’t you?

MC: I know. I did weigh up the positives and negatives, though.

MC: Sorry for making you worry, but I have to disagree with you on one thing. Getting carried away is what I’m good at, so I won’t stop.

(She’ll be the death of me.)

Her dedication was clearer than anything. I smiled.

In the end, MC passed my test with flying colors, and she earned the right to assist in the devil’s work.

As such, I entrusted the preparations for the ball on Christmas day entirely to her.

Although the usual preparations were nothing to be worried about, the scale of the ball held at the palace was huge.

Accordingly, the number of leading figures and foreign visitors among the guests was sizable.

(Moreover…)

Various parties and gatherings took place during the holiday season, and each of them were host to a wealth of conversation.

Some of it was politics-related, and some was no more than gossip, but…

(The quality of the ball itself is often a hot topic of conversation.)

The guests were extremely attentive to how much time had gone into the ball preparations, and how much effort had been put in to create a pleasant atmosphere.

(Usually, planning the event is my one worry when there’s a ball coming up, but…)

It appears I needn’t worry about it anymore.

I parted ways with MC and Rio, then walked down the corridor again.

(MC is extremely sharp-sighted, and it was almost a given that her faithful pet would assist.)

In addition, I had already arranged for the other princes to be consulted in regards to the planning.

(Now…)

…

Sariel: Thank you very much for divulging the information.

Cyran: It was a pleasure. We’re the ones who get forced to clean up his mess, after all.

The hellcat’s right-hand man brought me news of the ‘entertainment’ being planned for this Christmas by his master.

(To think he’s planning to release a swarm of clockwork mice… How terrible.)

(Why can’t he utilize his talents in more… USEFUL areas?)

(That man is a terror and a menace, through and through.)

Just as I was devising a way to burn his foolish inventions, another troublesome matter presented itself to me.

(The final matter I must attend to may be the one that weighs on me most of all…)

Chapter 2 Part 4

—

(The final matter I must attend to may be the one that weighs on me most of all…)

The source of my sorrow was not to do with anything inside the palace.

…

(Ah.)

The snow had stopped and sunlight filtered into the ballroom, making the rose-decorated tree in the middle seem to glow.

(It’s beautiful.)

The tree was positioned at every Christmas ball the palace held, and I had never looked at it in an appreciative light before.

(It just goes to show how much of a difference MC’s detailed, complementary decoration choices make.)

(Either that, or merely knowing that she was the one who poured her soul into decorating it softens my heart.)

What began as a sigh of admiration for her work turned into a deep, somber huff as the final challenge of the day loomed over me.

It concerned a letter of invitation I had received.

The party was being held in a territory a distance from Rhodolite, and it would run from the day before Christmas until Christmas Day itself.

It would be a wise decision for the king’s regent to attend.

(However, I have plenty of things keeping me far too busy here. The ball is one thing, but I’m certain more ‘fun’ lies in wait.)

(In all honesty, I’m extremely hesitant to let the palace be without my supervision.)

In an effort to somehow avoid attending, I recently put myself through a whole day of travel to visit the outlying territory in question.

However, my predictions missed the mark. I was unable to secure an exemption from attending the party.

(And the most bothersome part of it all…)

…was the requirement to bring a plus-one.

(It is almost certain that if I mention it to MC, she will immediately put herself forward. Alas…)

Chapter 2 Part 5

—

(It is almost certain that if I mention it to MC, she will immediately put herself forward. Alas…)

What happened the last time MC left the palace flashed before my eyes…

-flashback-

Servant: This bouquet of flowers addressed to MC arrived, but…

Rio: Oh no…

Sariel: I see they’ve been laced with poison.

-end flashback-

(Not to mention, she is but a temporary resident in the palace with all things considered.)

It was not hard to imagine how tongues would wag if she were to accompany a devil such as I to a party.

(Although, I remember what she said…)

-flashback-

MC: I really don’t think you’re the devil you make yourself out to be.

-end flashback-

(Despite what she said…)

(She’s wrong. I am a devil.)

The very planes on which she and I exist are different.

(Some may call my hesitancy being overprotective, but…)

(People can say what they like.)

(The last time I want is for something to be… sacrificed.)

(If a sacrifice is to be made, then… I would rather–)

Footsteps echoed through the ballroom, and I lifted my gaze to greet the person whose presence I had already discerned without looking.

I could recognize her by that presence alone; it was different to anyone else I had ever met. It was special.

MC: Sariel! Just the person I was looking for.

MC: Could I possibly accompany you to that party?

°•*⁀➷Masterlist