#classic vine never disappoints

[marigoldendragon]

The event is nearly over, and I must say Lilia and Floyd being chaotic besties was everything I ever wanted :'D

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter two

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: backyard barbecues, the local market, and an unexpected discovery that has you wondering what exactly you may have just gotten yourself into. (5k)

warnings: angst (this early on, i know i'm sorry but it's for the plot i promise <3), lando and max f bickering like an old married couple

a/n: she's here!!!! sorry it took a little longer than expected but i hope you all enjoy this chapter :) pls feel free to come chat in my asks if you want to, i'd love to hear what everyone think about it so far!

previous chapter | masterlist

“Are these guys rich or something?”

Camille voices exactly the thought running through your mind as you roll to a stop to the address Lando had texted you yesterday, gawking out at the sprawling acreage in front of you. 

You peer at the impressive villa through the windshield, taking in everything with baited breath. She’s absolutely right. 

This house has to be two, if not three times the size of the one you’re all staying at, and that’s just what you can see so far. Vines bursting with colorful flowers crawl up white stone walls, curling around trellises of even more foliage, shutters on huge windows. There’s even a massive fountain in the middle of the courtyard, pristine marble, spewing crystal clear water in streams. 

It’s a classic old money countryside villa—worth millions, you assume, not even taking in the gathering of vintage and expensive sports cars parked along the cobblestone driveway. You suddenly feel so, so small compared to the extravagance of just the exterior of the place. 

Who are these people? 

A guy with brown curls similar to Lando’s pulls open the door when you ring the bell, in the middle of yelling something at someone further inside the house, before turning his gaze on you all. His face lights up in recognition at the sight of you. “Oh, hey, you’re the girl Lando won’t shut up about! I’m Max, but I’m sure he’s told you all about me, hasn’t he?” 

So this is Max. Lando’s told you a little about him, but mainly just funny stories. You wonder if Max knows his best friend is going around telling girls he’s just met about the time Max walked into a glass sliding door. 

“A little bit, not much. It’s nice to put a face to the name though!” You say politely. 

Max sighs dramatically, shaking his head in faux disappointment. He and Lando must be close. “I’m the best part of his life, and he doesn’t think to share it! What a knob. Anyways, welcome, come on in, make yourselves at home!” 

He ushers you all inside, leading you through the house and out huge double French doors leading to the backyard. The rest of their group sits on couches gathered around a stone fire pit, drinks in hand, chatting amongst themselves until they see you all coming. Max does the introductions between your two groups, but there’s one person missing. The one person you were looking forward to seeing again is nowhere to be found. 

Max must notice how your eyes search for Lando, because he grins knowingly. “He’ll be out in a bit. Work called.” 

“Oh, what does he do?” Samira chimes in. You fight the urge to throw a stone at her, because you know what she’s doing. She’s getting information on Lando because you haven’t got the guts to do it yourself yet. 

“Has he not told you yet?” Max raises a brow, taking a sip of his drink. When you shake your head, he presses his lips together, like he’s debating whether or not to tell you himself. “Yeah, sorry, I think I’m gonna stay out of this one. He gets pissy when I meddle with his budding relationships.” 

Budding relationship. Your face flames hot at the insinuation, but Samira takes it in stride, raising a skeptical brow. 

“What, is he in the mafia or something?” 

“‘Course not, that’s ridiculous. Pretty boy like him, he’d never make it in the mafia,” Max snorts. “No, he’s…look, it’s not really my place to say. I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready.” 

Lando materializes from inside at that very moment, brows furrowed. There’s a tic going off in his jaw and he looks a little pissed off about something, but as soon as he looks up and sees that there’s company, he composes himself in a split second. 

“Hey, guys!” He chirps, hand raising in a wave. He makes his way over to where you all are, plopping down in the empty spot beside you without hesitation. “Glad you could make it.” 

“Thanks for the invite,” Maren replies, ever the polite one. “And the coffee yesterday.” 

Max makes an offended noise from the back of his throat at his friend. “You bought them coffee yesterday? Where was mine? You never buy me coffee.” 

“Mate, you don’t even drink coffee!” 

“Maybe I would if you bought it for me!” 

The two boys continue to bicker with each other in the same way all evening, which leads you to believe this is just how they are with one another. It gives Lando another dimension in your mind, and you like it.

There are a handful of common interests amongst your friends and Lando’s, ones that spark conversation immediately. As the night goes on, it feels like you’ve all been friends for a while, and you’re glad. Part of you was worried things would be awkward between everyone, but thankfully that isn’t the case.

It passes the time quicker than you expect. Soon enough it’s nearing midnight and you’re close to nodding off onto Lando’s shoulder, fighting to stay awake and looped into the ongoing conversation despite the sleep threatening to overtake you.

It certainly doesn’t help that he exudes warmth from where you’ve wound up pressed against each other on the small couch. You turn your head to look at him, to take in the little details of him. The angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose. The smattering of moles across his face and neck.

One wayward curl hangs over his forehead, and you want to reach out, brush it away. You don’t think you’re quite at that stage of comfort with each other yet, but then he tears his attention away from the rest of the group and meets your gaze with what you can only describe as pure fondness dripping from his lazy grin. 

“You alright?” He says softly, shifting his body to face you a little more. 

You nod, because you’re more than alright. For the first time in a while, everything feels just the way it should be. “Are you?” 

“Hm?” Lando replies noncommittally, sipping his drink. “Fine, why?” 

“Earlier, after your phone call, you seemed…upset. I don’t mean to pry, I just wanted to see if everything was alright.” 

“Oh, that? Nah, that was nothing, just my boss. Wanted to talk work stuff, but I wasn’t feeling it, y’know?” He shrugs. It feels like there’s more to what he’s saying, but you don’t want to push too hard. You’re still familiarizing yourself with him. “You’re sweet to check on me, though.” 

“Okay. But if you, um, if you need to talk or anything, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Lando traces a finger briefly over the thin strap of your dress, just over your shoulder, before dropping his chin into his palm. You already know he’s about to change the subject. Involuntarily, you shiver at his touch, and he definitely notices, because he suddenly looks a little smug.

“Pretty dress,” He hums, tilting his head. 

You weren't trying to make a good impression on Lando, but you weren't exactly not trying, if that makes sense. It doesn't really make sense to you, but you’d gone for cute but comfy with a dress you’d borrowed, hoping it says you’d made an effort, but not too much of one. 

Suddenly you can’t remember what you were just thinking about not being at a certain stage of comfort with one another. Is it weird that you're secretly pleased he liked it enough to mention it?

“It’s not mine,” You say softly. Lando lets out a noise of question. “I borrowed it from Maren.” 

“Ah. Well, you should definitely get one for yourself then. It’s a nice color on you.” 

You want to say thank you, or really just say anything at all, but the moment your gaze flicks back up to his, you’re lost in his eyes again. Everything around you blurs into the background until it feels like it’s just the two of you. You’re teetering on the edge of something, and fuck, it would be so easy to just go over. To let yourself fall and fall and fall into his waiting arms at the bottom. 

Suddenly you hear your own voice in your head.

Don’t get attached. 

Clearing your throat, you pull back from Lando as smooth as you can manage with him muddling up your brain like this. “It’s late. We should get going,” You say, a tad louder than necessary. 

“She’s right,” Camille chimes in, taking note of the slight urgency in your tone. “We’ve got a guided hike in the morning—sunrise, can you believe it?” 

Lando’s mouth dips into a tiny frown for a moment, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared. He nods understandingly. “Sure. I’ll walk you out.” 

You all say your goodbyes and thank you’s, to which the boys wholeheartedly agree you should all do this again sometime before you part ways. 

Lando trails behind a bit like he’s unsure, but catches up to you quickly on the way out, shoulder bumping against yours lightly as you fall into step with each other. His hand brushes yours and lingers a little, pinkies almost intertwining. 

“Tonight was nice,” He says casually. 

“Yeah, it was,” You agree, bobbing your head. 

“Would you—I dunno, maybe want to hang out again?”

“With you guys? ‘Course we would, I’m sure the girls would love to.” You smile, casting a glance at your friends. They’ve all coincidentally already gotten into the car, but if you squint hard enough you can see them gawking at Lando and yourself through the windshield.

How very not subtle of them. 

Lando rocks on the balls of his feet almost nervously, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “No, I meant, like…just the two of us.” 

“You mean, like, alone?” 

“A date. I’m trying to ask you out on a date,” He blurts, nose scrunching. “And failing miserably apparently.” 

“Oh!” You feel your face burn hot, yet you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. You’re about to take him up on the offer, but before you can say a word, another voice pops into the conversation. 

“Yes! She says yes! Whatever you’re asking, her answer is yes!” Samira yells through the window enthusiastically, muffled through the glass but still very audible.

Neither you nor Lando can stop the laughs that escape your mouths, especially when you turn around and all three girls are shooting you excited thumbs ups. 

“Guess that’s settled then,” You giggle, turning back to face him. 

“It’s a date.” He pushes forward, catching you by surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. As cliche as it sounds, the touch of his lips against your skin, although fleeting, sends a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. “I’ll text you later to plan, yeah? Get home safe.” 

He waits for you to pull around the circular driveway, and as his waving form gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, a glimmer of hope worms its way through you. 

In the back of your mind, you know you should keep it in check. This could be totally casual. A short summer fling that won’t hurt anyone no matter how it ends. But maybe, just maybe, it could turn into something more. 

-------

Your schedules don't end up giving you a free afternoon together until a few days later, though you come to realize it only makes you look forward to seeing Lando again even more. 

You're supposed to be meeting him at the local market in the center of town at half past one, but you find yourself there early, wanting to get a lay of the land before he gets there.

Evidently Lando had the same idea, because you spot him within the first few steps into the open air marketplace, squatting next to a stand with crates and buckets of bright flowers. He’s already got a bouquet clutched in his hands, but still he browses through the different bunches. 

“Flowers for Max?” You joke. 

Lando shoots to his feet so fast he nearly hits his head on the lightbulb hanging above, only managing to miss it by mere inches as he startles at the sudden voice. When he realizes it’s just you, he snorts with laughter. “He wishes! They’re for you, actually.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you,” He says teasingly. You don’t even know what to say. Flowers on the first date might be normal, yet nobody’s ever done it for you before. You’re touched, but he must take your silence as something else, because his smile drops the tiniest bit. “Unless you see something you like better? I can still put these back.” 

You study the flowers he’s picked out already. A little on the smaller side, it boasts a beautiful mix of both soft and brighter colors while still being simple—it’s exactly the sort of thing you would’ve chosen if you were buying flowers for yourself. “They’re perfect.” 

He pays for the flowers and passes them over to you with the biggest smile on his face, one that grows even bigger when you tuck them carefully into the crook of your arm after giving the delicate blossoms a sniff. 

You notice the camera hanging around his neck at that moment, despite knowing close to nothing about golf, you do know a thing or two about photography. “Golfer and photographer? Impressive.” 

“Amateur at best.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you're just being modest.” 

“Not even a little bit. I just enjoy taking pictures of things I like.” 

He swings around to face you fully, bringing the camera up to his eye and pausing only a second to make sure you're in focus before snapping a photo of you. The shutter clicks twice before you have the sense to hold up a hand out in front of you, a surprised laugh spilling from your mouth. Even then he grins, takes another one before lowering the camera. "What, you don't like having your photo taken?" 

“I’m just not very photogenic!” 

Lando scoffs immediately, shooting you a pointed look. “That is such a lie.” 

“I probably just broke your fancy expensive camera,” You joke. 

“We’ll just have to wait til I get it developed and see. I think it’ll turn out wonderful.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” 

“I’ll buy you dinner. If I’m right, then…you let me buy you dinner.” 

You let out a noise of surprise. “Well, that doesn’t seem very fair, does it? You’d have to buy me dinner either way.” 

“I can think of worse things than taking a pretty girl out for a nice meal.” His words take you by surprise, but judging by the smug grin on his face, Lando takes pride in eliciting a reaction from you. “Shall we?” And just like that, he’s sauntering off down the path like he didn’t just leave you at a loss for words, pep in his step even as he turns around to shoot you a roguish smile. “You coming or what?” 

You push aside the fluttering in your chest, giving your head an amused shake before catching up with him. It’s cute that he thinks he’s funny. Even cuter that he seems rather eager to take you out on a second date before the first one has even started. 

The two of you wander through the market aimlessly, stopping here and there at various stalls to have a look around. If you had the means, you’d buy everything you see. You wind up picking up some gorgeous looking fruit and a bottle of locally pressed wine, a few small souvenirs for your family back home, but the most important thing you buy isn’t even for you. 

Lando had lingered at a stall selling handmade jewelry early on, seemingly interested in a woven bracelet of blues and whites, but didn't pick it up. Part of you wonders why, but it sparks an idea in your head. 

You tug at Lando’s arm lightly, smiling guiltily when he turns to look at you. “I think I left my phone at that fruit stand a few stalls back.” 

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your body, you muppet,” He chides, shaking his head fondly. “C’mon, let’s find it.” 

“No, I can get it. Why don’t you find us something good for lunch? I’m starving.” 

“Are you sure?” Lando cocks his head, shoulder bumping against yours. “I don’t mind.” 

“I’ll be right back,” You promise. To sweeten the deal, you make the bold move of pressing a kiss to his cheek. He freezes under your touch, but you pass it off as him not expecting it and being taken by surprise. “Two minutes, okay? Maybe less.” 

As soon as you confirm he isn’t paying any attention to you, you slip back through the crowd, finding the same stall and buying the bracelet he’d been looking at. You tuck it safely into your pocket, quickly making your way back to Lando before he realizes you’ve been gone long and comes looking for you. 

“All good?” He asks upon noticing you reappear by his side. 

You wiggle your phone in the air. “Never better. What's for lunch?” 

Lando grins happily, reciting the spiel that the very friendly older man at the food stand gave to him when he’d decided on the delicious looking food. Sure, maybe he stumbles over his pronunciation a little bit, but you find his giggled embarrassment sweet. 

You find a semi-secluded bench a little jaunt away to enjoy your food, and you do enjoy it. You think it might be one of the best things you’ve ever had, and when you tell Lando, he looks pleasantly surprised. As you continue to savor every bite, Lando’s eyes light up with amusement, so much so that you wonder what’s suddenly got him all smiling big like this. 

“What?” You say incredulously. 

He gestures to the lower part of his face. “You’ve got a little…” 

Mortified, you mirror his actions on your own face, searching for the food you’ve somehow gotten smudged on your chin. After a few tries that have him shaking his head, you whine, “Help me, please?”, to which he obliges with a soft chuckle. He reaches out, thumb rubbing at the corner of your mouth briefly. 

This moment almost seems too intimate, but then again, so have a lot of moments between the two of you. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’ve still got something on your face, but then his gaze flicks down to your lips again almost imperceptibly, and you have an inkling of what’s about to happen. 

“Did you get it?” You ask softly. You’re not sure why you break the silence, but it's definitely not because you don’t want him to kiss you. If you think about it, you’ve wanted Lando to kiss you this whole time. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I got it," He replies. His hand lingers, long fingers splaying flat under the curve of your jaw now. You surprise yourself by shifting forward slightly, as if encouraging Lando to close the gap. He leans in closer and closer still, and your eyes fall shut on their own accord, heartbeat hammering against your rib cage. 

You nearly melt the moment his lips touch yours, held up only by the firm grasp of his hand cupping your face. It’s a little awkward with the food in between the two of you blocking you from pushing closer to him, but you make it work, reaching over it to wrap your fingers around Lando’s forearm. You feel like you need it to ground yourself, because holy shit, you’re kissing him. 

Well, more like he’s kissing you, because you’re definitely not the one leading the way. Lando kisses like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and judging by how you feel weak in the knees when you’re not even standing, he does know exactly what he’s doing. 

You’re falling, falling, falling, getting lost in him, until— 

“Wait, hang on,” He breathes, pulling away. Your eyes flutter open in an almost dazed sort of way, focusing on him in hopes of finding him in the same state, but all you’re met with is…guilt? Sadness? Shame? Maybe a mixture of everything, you’re not sure. All you know is that it has your heart plummeting in your chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Everything hits you at once, and suddenly you’re crashing back down to reality. Lando thinks kissing you was a mistake. You were so sure he liked you back, sure enough to go on a date with him, and now here you are with egg on your face, feeling unbelievably stupid. Hurt. 

“I’m gonna—I have to go,” You mumble, scrambling to your feet. You don’t even have an excuse prepared, you just need to get out of here, get away from Lando before you spontaneously combust from the sheer embarrassment. 

His hand encircles your wrist before you can make it even a step away. 

“No, no, don’t! Please, just let me…let me explain. I promise things will all make sense in a second, if you’ll just hear me out,” He says pleadingly. Despite your better judgment, you sit back down, expression guarded. Lando blows out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. “Look, I like you. I really like you, and I wish things were as simple as that, but there’s things I’ve not told you. Things that, if you knew, you might not want to be with me.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, burying your burning face into your hands with a muffled groan. “Oh my god, you are in the mafia, aren’t you?” 

“The—what?” Lando blurts, sounding wildly confused. “No, I’m not, I’m not in the mafia. Are you mad? I’m a Formula 1 driver!” 

You crack one eye open, then the other. “Formula 1.” You repeat, disbelieving. “Like, the racing thing?”  

He nods enthusiastically, tells you everything—how his childhood dream turned into a career, how he gets to travel all around the world doing what he loves. The fame, the lifestyle, the opportunities he’s worked so hard for, all while sounding entirely humble and grateful for everything and everyone who’ve gotten him to where he is today. 

It’s impressive, to say the least. The fact that he’s still fairly young and has already accomplished more than what some people have in a whole lifetime. Then he gets to how the chaos that doing what he does at the level he does it at wreaks havoc on other parts of his life, and you feel a wave of sympathy roll over you. 

The tradeoff for all that success is not getting to have a normal life in almost every aspect, and given the downward set of his brow as he tells you about it, this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation with someone. 

“It makes being in a relationship…difficult, is the best way I can describe it. I’m never in one place more than a week most times, and the whole time zones thing makes it harder too. And after these two weeks are up, I’m already off to somewhere else, jumping right back into the second half of the season and hitting the ground running.” 

Realization hits you like a truck at this point, and you have to fight the urge to laugh out loud. Of course Lando is who he is. Of course you had to form a connection with someone with a life as complicated and as far away from your own as possible, someone who couldn’t be in a normal relationship even if he wanted to. 

“I wish it were different, but I just—I wanted you to know what you might be getting into if we…” He trails off, but you know what he means. If we want to get involved with each other. If we want to be together. 

“So like, long distance, but infinitely harder.” You’re doing your best to put a light spin on the massive amount of new information you’ve just acquired, but you’re barely managing to process it all, let alone even think about what it would be like to date someone as well known as Lando. 

“Yeah, something like that,” He says softly, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. “It’s—well, it’s a lot of baggage for anyone to have to deal with. Lots of eyes and ears, pretty public. Not really your cup of tea, I’ve noticed.” 

He’s right. You’ve never been one to enjoy being the center of attention, preferring to fly under the radar. Blend into the background. And you hate to say it, but knowing all of what he’s just told you changes things. You don’t think you can handle being thrust into the public eye, and it makes you feel like the most selfish person in the world to walk away from him just because of who he happens to be. 

Your life would be forever altered, your sense of privacy and security gone, and that isn’t something you want to compromise. You’re comfortable being nobody significant. With Lando, that would change, no matter how many measures you take to make sure it doesn’t. 

As much as you’ve come to like him—and you really like him—it’s just not something you can see yourself being fully okay with. 

“I’m so sorry, Lando,” You say quietly. He just smiles sadly, like he already knew it was coming, and you can't help but think about how many relationships—platonic or romantic—that he's lost out on because of his status. The thought alone makes you feel even worse. “I like you too, but I can’t—I don’t think I can be what you want me to be. It’s not me, it’s not the way I can live my life.” 

“Don’t be sorry. You haven’t got a reason to be,” He murmurs, thumb rubbing across your knuckles comfortingly. “Knew it was too good to be true, didn’t I?” 

“I’m sorry,” You say again, hoping that Lando knows you truly mean it. “I wish it were different, but—”

Lando shakes his head, interrupting before you can grasp for any other ways to apologize. He squeezes your hand reassuringly again. “Hey. It’s alright, I promise. I’d never ask anyone to do something they aren’t comfortable with. Especially not you.” 

Even when he’s sad, he’s still so thoughtful. It would take a different kind of awful monster not to want to be with him. Apparently that monster is you. 

You wish you were someone else, someone who could take huge changes in stride and never miss a step, but you’re not. Someone who knows what they want and goes for it—who knows who they want and doesn’t let anything get in their way. 

Unfortunately, you’re not that kind of person. 

“What do we do now?” 

Lando drops your hand to run his fingers through his curls, down to the back of his neck sheepishly. “Dunno about you, but I’ve—d’you think there’s any chance we can still be friends? I really do enjoy spending time with you lot, we all do.” 

“Friends would be nice,” You say softly. It feels strange to agree with him so wholeheartedly. 

Maybe it’ll be awkward between the two of you, maybe you won’t even be able to sit next to each other with what’s happened today, but you can’t bring yourself to care all that much. The only thought running through your mind is that you don’t want to lose Lando, even as just a friend. 

You’ve gotten attached. 

The bracelet you’d bought Lando burns a hole through your pocket. It would be weird to give it to him now, after you’d just turned him down, but you can’t exactly just return it either. You don’t really want to. 

Maybe it won’t go to him, but you’re sure you’ll find something to do with it someday.

The girls are waiting in the living room when you finally make your way home, gathered on the sofa with identical innocent smiles like you hadn’t seen them with their heads poked through the curtains. Samira bounces off the cushions with what you can only describe as a gleeful cackle to grab your flowers, showing them off to the other two like a game show host before grabbing your hand and dragging you into the center of their blanket pile. 

You know they're expecting good news and you wish you could give it to them, but you can’t. 

“So??? How’d it go?” 

“He got her flowers, obviously it went well!” 

“Okay, spill, now,” Camille presses, easing the bouquet out of Samira’s hands and setting it on the coffee table. “What’s he like, what’d you do—” 

“When’s your second date?” chimes in Maren excitedly. The other two nod their vigorous agreement. 

“Lando’s amazing,” You sigh, letting yourself fall back against the plush pillows. “He’s super sweet and really funny, we walked around and looked at all the vendors, and then we had lunch and talked for ages, and…there won’t be a second date.”

“What? That’s impossible, you guys were like, made for each other!” 

You sigh, rub at a flower petal that’s fallen away from the bouquet. “It’s complicated. I don’t—I’m not ready to get into all of it again this soon, but long story short, our lives are just too different. Being with him would mean compromising things I’m just not ready to lose right now.” 

If any of them wants to push for a better explanation, and you know they do, they refrain from doing so. They know you’ll tell them when you’re ready. 

But even Samira can tell you’re not quite as okay as you insist you are, and she’s been rooting for you extra hard. She leans her head onto your shoulder, squeezes your hand reassuringly. “You did what was best for you, and that’s all that matters.” 

“We agreed to still be friends, so we can still hang out with the guys and stuff like that, but—I mean, yeah, it just didn’t work out.” You don’t think you sound very convincing at all, but it’s the bed you've made, you’ve got to lay in it. “I just don’t really want to talk about it right now, but it's fine. I'm fine.” 

It has to be. You have to be. You’ve made sure of it.

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[redtsundere-writes]

Part 17: Everything Is Cursed

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 6371 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

One question was bothering you. You had been through hell and you still hadn't received your reward. That inquiry was running in circles in your mind. There were many answers, but none were facts. What was happening? Why were you going through it? How long would it be until it was over? Many possibilities, none seemed to be the right one. It was a doubt that arose the morning after the small funeral you prepared for your sister.

There was a small chapel past the garden and crops behind the terrible castle. Its white facade, with a classical curved parapet and a red tiled roof, emanated serenity in the middle of hell. On top of the facade, the emblem of Sukuna’s kingdom rose towards the sky. Vines grew around the open arch that reveals its interior. That small place had existed since Sukuna conquered these lands. With no function for that small building, Sukuna decided to leave it as it was. Sometimes the servants would go there in their free time to pray for their souls in case they didn’t survive another day.

You carefully placed the golden urn with Yorozu’s ashes on one of the shelves. Uraume had given it to you the morning after your little expedition with the king. That morning, you woke up, surprised to be in your room in the castle. Apparently, you had fallen asleep while watching the sunset and the king had to carry you back in his arms. “How embarrassing,” you thought before getting ready for the funeral.

You put on the cap of your black cloak so that no one would disturb you as you dedicated a minute of silence to your sister’s soul with your cheeks completely dry. You had quickly accepted that she was no longer with you and that you couldn’t do anything for her in life. Now the only thing you could do was honor her short life. Everything had happened so fast. A couple of months ago you were crying from happiness to see her, and now you didn’t want to cry from disappointment.

You listened to Kenjaku give his class, but you couldn't pay attention. It had been a week since Yorozu's death and something was missing. The reason why you had committed that atrocity that you wanted to forget but would haunt you for the rest of your life. You tried to pay attention to your teacher, but that doubt kept pulling you into the limbo of probabilities.

“Once you understand your opponent's point of view, it is easier to defend your own position more successfully, especially because that's how you avoid misunderstandings and arguing about aspects that the other side hasn't really said,” Kenjaku explained while writing the keywords on the board. “That's why studying the rival is very important in the debate.” He turned around to find you lost in your thoughts. You looked at the board, but you weren't really reading what it said. “Do you have any questions?”

“Why hasn't the king proposed to me yet?” You asked him, coming back to your senses. Kenjaku looked at you confused.

“I meant about class…”

“Ah.” You quickly read what the board said about the steps to learn how to argue. “I have no doubts about that.”

Kenjaku had noticed your strange attitude for a couple of days now, but as you continued with your education without delay, he never asked you. He thought it was because you were still mourning your sister's death or sad about not knowing the true whereabouts of your sisters. The teacher smiled to himself, just when he thought he could read you like an open book, it turned out that he wasn't.

“So that's what's been distracting you lately?” Kenjaku inquired.

“Did I do something wrong? The king promised to marry me once I killed someone of my kind, but he hasn't done it yet,” you explained worriedly.

“Do you want to marry him that much?” Kenjaku joked tenderly. It was nice to see a girl completely in love.

“Of course,” you answered without hesitation. Your master smiled at hearing you so excited. “My sister died because of that, I better do it.” That was not an answer he expected to hear.

“Excuse me?”

“I lost Yorozu because of that deal. If Sukuna doesn't propose to me, I would have killed my sister for nothing,” you explained, crossing your arms in frustration. “Do you know why the king hasn't done it yet?”

Kenjaku's enthusiastic smile disappeared just like that day when Sukuna came back with you in his arms, completely asleep and, worst of all, without a ring on your finger. The king was stupid for not taking the opportunity to ask you to marry him after all.

“I have no idea,” Kenjaku answered. “Maybe he's been very busy.”

That could be a possibility. You hadn't seen the king as often as before. You used to see him at every meal of the day, in the afternoon when you gave him your daily report, and when he sometimes poked his nose into your education. Now, you only saw him at breakfast time because he spent the rest of the day locked in his office. You couldn't even report to him because he wouldn't let you in. It was strange how everything around you had changed after your sister's death.

"I hope he didn't scam me," you thought, holding your head in guilt.

"The king may be many things, but a scammer isn't one of them," Kenjaku, I assure you.

The door opened, interrupting the teacher-student conversation. You recognized almost immediately the naturally bitter face, the gray hair, and the dull uniform in dark tones. It was that new servant who was so kind to you. All you knew about him had been from Mrs. Inoue, who had told you that he was such a reserved, serious, and somewhat grumpy man. It seemed so strange to you that you never perceived it like that.

“Sorry to interrupt you. The king calls you to his office,” he announced.

“Maybe the time has come,” Kenjaku commented with a smile.

“Finally…” You sighed.

It was strange. Kenjaku thought you would be more excited about marrying the king. You studied complicated subjects that fried your brain, trained until exhaustion, and got ready early to please the king’s eyes. It made no sense for you to work so hard for this moment and not be excited.

Sukuna let them into the office. You and Kenjaku entered after bowing in respect to the king and his right-hand man, Uraume, who stood faithfully behind him. Sukuna’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. He gripped his pen tightly to mask his nervousness at being in your presence.

Returning to the castle after his failed marriage proposal, he carried you to your room as you snored softly. He gently laid you down on the bed so as not to wake you up. He took off your boots before tucking you into bed. He sat next to you to admire your calmness. Your chest rose and fell slowly to the rhythm of your breathing. Your eyelashes stood out more when your eyes were closed. Your half-open lips invited him to come closer to kiss you like that night you spent together. “Enough!” Sukuna scolded himself in his mind to stop and immediately leave your room so you could continue your dream.

Since that night, he realized that he can’t think coherently when he iswas near you, so he decided to take immediate measures so you wouldn’t distract him when working. It was frustrating how your mere presence could upset him like that. He had to fight with all his instincts to concentrate on what mattered most now, the future of his kingdom.

You and Kenjaku approached the desk. Quickly, you noticed a large black box with a gold engraving of roses on it. It was almost as long as the desk. That must have been the reason you had been called. It seems that this was not what you were expecting.

“Open it.” Sukuna ordered you.

You looked at Kenjaku for a second, worried about what might be inside. Your master patted you on the back a couple of times, inviting you to come closer. You worked up the courage to open the box without a hint of fear. The latches clicked open at the same time. You lifted the lid to reveal the immaculate treasure.

A beautiful rose gold bow that radiated a special aura against the light. Your mouth dropped to the floor as soon as you pulled it out of its box, along with its matching pink-dyed leather quiver. You never thought you'd see such a beautiful weapon in your life. You pretended to load the bow with an imaginary arrow to test it out. It was lighter than the one you had before, and you could tell it was made with the best quality materials. As you lowered the bow, you noticed a small detail. In the small hollow of the handle there was an engraving, a small daisy. You smiled at the cute detail. You thought it would have a rose, since it was a common symbol in the Sukuna kingdom, but daisies are cute too.

“It's a cursed bow,” Sukuna explained, catching your attention. “That means you can kill curses with it. Keep that in mind when you train with my soldiers.”

“What's the difference from a normal bow?” You asked curiously.

“This bow is infused with the cursed energy from Yorozu’s body,” the king replied bluntly.

“Are you saying that part of my sister is here?” You stammered. Everyone in the room could tell that you were about to burst into tears.

“Yes,” Sukuna replied in the same tone.

You hugged the bow to your chest as you sobbed softly, hiding your face behind your hair and the upper limb. A pang of guilt attacked Sukuna’s chest. He really thought you would like his gift, since you deserved a cursed weapon made especially for you, but it seems he was wrong.

“Thank you…” You sobbed. “Thank you for giving me something to honor her life with.”

You looked into his eyes with tears running down your cheeks and a nostalgic smile on your face. Sukuna’s heart quickly skipped a beat as he realized the true reason for your crying. His lower hands, hidden beneath the desk, clenched into fists to control himself. How could you play with his feelings without even trying? Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses, the powerful tyrant and the commander of thousands, was being corrupted by a mere mortal.

He hated these feelings you caused him. You made him so embarrassed he looked like a tomato, you annoyed him so much, but he couldn't get mad at you, and now, you could manipulate him with a simple smile. He would lose his temper when he was around you and that drove him crazy. If you wanted, he would be in the palm of your hand. He had to keep you as far away from him as possible to prevent the situation from getting worse for him.

“Just go train already,” Sukuna ordered in a grumpy tone, turning his gaze to an empty document to avoid seeing you.

It was a shame he hadn't asked you to marry him yet, but the king really did look busy. You could see the physical effect that being locked up in his office for so long had caused. He had purple eye bags, his posture was stiff, and his eyes scanned the document lazily. “Maybe later,” you thought disappointed before taking the quiver with pink feathered arrows.

“Yes, my king,” you replied with a bow to leave.

“We must leave then,” Kenjaku made you second.

“Who gave you permission to leave?” Sukuna ordered him.

The master was surprised at that. You and Kenjaku shared a confused look, but you decided to obey the king so as not to cause any more inconvenience. Your legs walked as quickly as possible, closing the door behind you as you left the office. Sukuna’s hands relaxed as he no longer had to keep his emotions in check. After making sure you had already left, Kenjaku approached the king.

“Why so secretive, my king?” Kenjaku inquired curiously.

“It’s not a secret, it’s just that she’s not ready to know what I’m planning yet.” Sukuna got up from the desk to take one of the scrolls that were displayed on a bookshelf. He unrolled the scroll with a snap to reveal an updated map of the great world they knew.

It was a large map made from parchment and black ink with wonderful detail. It showed all the important kingdoms and places of interest that made up the world. The Kingdom of Sukuna and the Kingdom of Jogo were to the west, the kingdoms of Gojo, Geto and Yaga; to the north. The kingdoms of Zen'in and Nanami; to the east, and finally, the Kingdom of Tsukumo was to the southeast. Currently, the great tyrant owned the east and planned to expand soon.

"I'm going to declare war on the Zen'in," Sukuna announced, pointing at the large territory with his finger.

Kenjaku looked at him impressed, but not surprised. He knew that one day the king would not be satisfied with keeping the infested lands with only curses, so he would go to conquer human lands. Kenjaku glanced at Uraume out of the corner of his eye, who had not said a single word the entire time they were there. He expected nothing less from the shadow of his majesty.

“Wow, how ambitious,” Kenjaku commented while looking at the map. “May I know why you made that decision?” He returned his gaze to the king with curiosity.

“The Gojo Kingdom and the Geto Kingdom are allied, so an invasion could be complicated with my current troops. The Nanami Kingdom, Tsukumo and Yaga are small but distant. They will be my next targets once I have the Zen'in.” Everything the king said made sense, but there was still a small kingdom that was at the equator of the world to consider.

“What about the Kamo Kingdom? It is small and right in front of the Jogo Kingdom. It is the perfect target.”

“How many times have Commander Mahito and his troops tried to kill them?” Sukuna asked him seriously. Kenjaku gulped at that indirect accusation.

“I have already lost count, my king,” he answered, embarrassed by his comrade.

“They may be a small kingdom, but they are stupidly powerful. They are watching their lands at all hours for living so close to the Jogo kingdom. If anyone is ready for an invasion, it is them.” Sukuna explained. "As this is my first invasion into the heart of a kingdom, I have spent all this time carefully choosing my first victim. Because once I do, the other kingdoms will know what awaits them."

"If you have already decided, I am ready to obey your orders as always." Kenjaku gave a bow of respect that Sukuna completely ignored to look at the window.

"My plan will be carried out once I secure the life of my heir, in case everything goes wrong," Sukuna explained. "During that time, you will take care of the troops of the Jogo kingdom."

"And what about the education of the miss?" Kenjaku asked worriedly.

"I already have that covered." Sukuna answered.

"So what is the first step?" Kenjaku inquired.

“Wait for the Zen’in to make the first move.”

You left your room after finishing getting ready for the day of training that awaited you. You had decided that from now on you would use Yorozu's dresses to train since they were lighter than yours, perfect for moving with complete freedom. Archery is a sport that requires complete mobility of the upper body, so it is annoying to wear elegant dresses that require a corset. You were heading to the courtyard, moving your shoulders in circles to warm up on the way, until you ran into that kind servant. He was dusting off an obsidian vase propped on a marble column with great laziness.

"Did everything go well with the king, miss?" The man asked you when he noticed your presence.

"Yes, he gave me a new bow." You showed it to him to show it off. He was amazed to see it.

"It is very beautiful. It is made with the best fiberglass and carbon. It must have cost the king a good fortune." He explained as he took it to examine it carefully.

“It's obvious that you know about this,” you said, somewhat surprised, taking back your bow.

“Of course I know, I was a hunter before I was a servant,” he replied.

“Really?” You asked, fascinated. The gentleman was going to answer, but another servant, who was passing by, intercepted their conversation.

“Wasuke, leave the lady alone and get back to work!” The servant scolded him angrily.

“Shut your mouth, idiot!” Wasuke replied in the same tone.

That sudden change in attitude took you by surprise. Now you understood why Mrs. Inoue said he was a grumpy man. One moment he could be a kind man and, the next, someone extremely rude.

“In fact, he is working. He is going to help me train,” you defended him. “Isn't that right, Wasuke?” You gave him a knowing wink.

“Of course, miss.” He gave you a slight smile when he realized what you were planning.

The other servant rolled his eyes and walked back the way he came, muttering insults under his breath. Typical attitude for an 80-year-old man. You and Wasuke looked at each other knowingly before smiling at each other as if you had done some mischief.

“I shall warn you that I am a very strict master,” Wasuke warned you.

“Just what I need,” you told him. “My name is Y/n,” you introduced yourself with a bow of respect to your new master.

“Everyone knows who you are,” he joked. “My name is Wasuke Itadori. It will be an honor to train you.” You had a good feeling about this.

Wasuke shouted encouragements at you while you barely did push-ups. As soon as you reached the parade ground, he told you that you were the weakest woman he had ever met in his life, so he forced you to do different exercises to strengthen your arms, shoulders, and back. Your weak muscles could barely support the weight of your own body each time you climbed up, keeping your back as straight as possible. You sweated, even in places you didn't know could sweat.

“Lift that neck, lady! Even a little girl can do 30 push-ups!” Wasuke yelled at you, small drops of saliva escaping from his mouth every time he opened his mouth.

“That's what I'm trying to do!” You complained between moans of exhaustion.

“I don't want a try, I want you to do it!” Wasuke spat. “Three more!”

With the little breath you had left, you lowered your body. The grass tickled the palms of your hands, but that wasn't going to stop you. You climbed up with your back straight and then lowered yourself again. This was more complicated than it seemed. Wasuke kept yelling at you to finish the simple exercise with a good grade. When he said he was a strict teacher, he meant it. You did the last push-up and collapsed to the ground. You groaned in pain as you breathed in the freshly cut grass.

“Get up now,” Wasuke ordered you. You reluctantly obeyed. “Now you are going to hold the bow in front of you for 5 minutes.” That sounded simple.

You took your bow, extended your arms in front of you and held the weapon with both hands. All was well until your limbs began to shiver from the exhaustion of the previous exercises. You tightened your grip on the bow to keep it from slipping from the sweat. You didn’t think you could last 5 minutes like that.

“Can I ask you something?” You tried to distract your brain from the exercise so that time would pass faster. “Why are you here? You look quite young compared to everyone else.”

Unlike the other servants, Wasuke was the youngest of them all, like you at the time. Most servants were between 60 and 80, he looked to be under 50. He had gray hair but still had dark hair, wrinkles from age, but he didn't look like a raisin, and sometimes he didn't hear well, but he was still strong.

“Do you want the truth?” He asked you. You nodded.

The truth was something he had a hard time telling. He was always a good liar to protect his family, especially his daughter. He didn't want her to live in fear because of living in a commune that was in constant danger of being attacked by a curse. His lies were the cause of his only daughter's giant curiosity. 

“My daughter died because of a curse. My wife committed suicide because she couldn't bear the mourning," Wasuke confessed with all the sadness in his heart. "I was a coward and couldn't follow the same path. That's why I'm waiting for the king to decide when it will be my time to join them." Your heart broke when you heard that. It was a tragic fate to suffer. "It's only fair that I too die at the hands of a curse. It's the price I must pay for not protecting my little girl." 

You knew perfectly well what he was talking about. There is no worse feeling than the helplessness of not being strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough to protect what you love. You had lost your family by not being able to fight adversity. You couldn't even protect that child at the harvest for a day who was killed by your lack of courage. You tightened your bow again, this time, out of frustration that both of you had to go through that.

"I'm so sorry," you stammered. You didn't think his answer would be so heartbreaking.

“Don’t apologize. Life is cruel by nature,” Wasuke sighed.

“Still, I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I know what it’s like to lose your family.”

“I know, Miss.” 

Wasuke remembered seeing you cry and scream at the sky for your sin of killing your own blood. He had never seen a person suffer so much physically, emotionally, and psychologically. Even though he was behind the strong walls of the castle, a giant window separated them, and he had a deafness problem, he could still hear the powerful wails of your soul in mourning. Your palms open like books, the blood splattered on the canvas that was your body, and your face in sorrow. It was such a powerful image that he doubted he would ever forget it.

The loud bells woke them both from the memories of their sad pasts. It was the alarm announcing an invasion. This was the second time you had heard it in your time in the castle, and you had an idea of ​​who it could be. Several armed curses ran towards the castle entrance through the battlements that were on the walls, while incoherent instructions were shouted to you.

“Don’t let him pass!” A strong-bodied curse ordered as he summoned a dark screen that slowly covered the entire castle.

“We must go!” Wasuke asked you before taking your arm. You were going to follow him, but you remembered what Sukuna told you on your first day of training:

“In case of an invasion, you will need a cursed bow that allows you to use special arrows to kill curses and use it against sorcerers.” You tightened your grip on the cursed bow he had recently gifted you.

“You go. I will stay here as reinforcement,” you told him, removing your arm so he could leave alone. “Tell everyone to prepare to escape if it gets worse.”

“Are you sure, miss?” Wasuke asked.

“It is an order,” you said, sure.

Wasuke looked at the entrance one last time and nodded, accepting the order you had given him. He returned to the castle at a quick pace to do what he had just been asked to do. You looked ahead before pulling an arrow from your quiver to load your bow. You were completely alone in the courtyard, as all the curses were either outside the castle or on the perimeter. You could only hear the war cries of the curses. You gulped, shaking at not knowing what was going on the other side. You had an idea, but you weren't sure.

The screams turned into wails in a moment. You gripped your bow, mentally preparing for your turn to engage in battle. Though, you were sure you wouldn’t be alone. There was Kenjaku and Uraume to fight next to you. Sukuna can defeat any enemy in the blink of an eye. He would take down this strong foe, wouldn’t he?

The curse screen dissipated into the air, announcing that this curse was annihilated. The chains of the drawbridge began to jingle, and the castle gate swung open. The large bridge fell into place, the ground beneath your feet rumbling. It shook you completely, staggering you in place. You tightly gripped your bow and aimed it at the invader. “A man?” you thought, faltering in your shot.

A tall man, great posture and immaculate aura, walked in confidently, leaving all the curses behind, turning into ash. His spotless black boots thudded against the thick wood, announcing his arrival. His splendid bottle-green military uniform had several gold medals decorating his chest, a black leather belt, and dark pants. He smiled proudly as he combed his blonde hair with black tips back with his fingers.

“Oh?” He stopped upon entering, staring at you in disbelief for a second, as if he had entered the wrong house by accident. “Where is the white-haired guy of questionable sex? He is the one who always greets me,” he asked, confused.

“Did you kill all the curses?” You asked, surprised to see so much ash evaporating into the air.

“You must be new.” The man smiled and confidently approached you. Not knowing his intentions, you stretched the string to load the bow to its limit, but this did not make him stop. “It is a very large weapon, do you know how to use it? I could teach you.” He spoke to you as if you were stupid. You frowned further, this stranger's attitude starting to bother you.

You had recently realized that people like him were the type you disliked the most. Self-centered people who think they can do whatever they please. Yorozu had given you the tools to deal with people like this. You forgave her because she was your sister, but him? This guy was a complete stranger to whom you owed nothing.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” You questioned with the most demanding tone you could fake, you had copied it from Sukuna from hearing it so much.

“I am Commander Naoya Zen'in,” he announced himself with a proud smile. “So I was right,” you thought.

You had only been a servant in the castle for a short time when you heard that name for the first time. You were washing the king's long robes in the backyard with a few other maids. Your fingers were beginning to wrinkle like they do from being in the soapy water for so long. The quiet and the voices of the gossiping maids kept you company. The little peace of the task was interrupted by the alarm bells that echoed throughout the castle. You stopped at the strange noise, having no idea what you were supposed to do.

“An invasion,” one of the servants announced, surprisingly calm.

“Do you think it's Naoya Zen'in?” Another servant, one who had been in the castle the longest, asked, somewhat excited.

“Winter is almost over, most likely,” Her coworker answered, wiping her hands on her apron after finishing her task.

“Who is Naoya Zen'in?” You asked them, butting into the conversation.

“A very handsome commander from an enemy kingdom who comes every year to deliver a letter to the king,” the first one answered. “Let's go see him,” she invited you to go with them to the entrance of the castle.

“No, thank you. I still have to finish washing this,” you politely declined.

The three ladies quickened their pace to find out if it was the man they could see annually. You looked at them curiously. “Was that man so attractive that you had to see him in person?” You wondered. Now you were curious to see this man, but you had a task to finish. You dipped your hands into the soapy water again to try to remove the stubborn blood stains from the king's white robes.

Now you understand why this man caused such a stir among the maids. Someone with such a presence had not been seen since Geto Suguru's corpse appeared in these parts. You looked towards the window that overlooked the great hall, a small group of ladies greeted Naoya from the safe point. The flattered young man returned the gesture.

“Women being women,” he sighed with a big smile. “Anyway, I have an important letter from Zen'in.”

“You can give it to me and leave,” you told him without lowering your bow.

“I think you don't understand your position as a female,” Naoya came closer without a hint of fear nor respect for you. “You're not going to be able to stop me.”

“No!” You shouted, making him stop at the loud objection. “You're the one who doesn't understand.” You lowered your torso so that the arrow's trajectory would change from his torso to his face. “One shot, and you're a dead man, commander Zen'in.”

Naoya smiled at the offense. Not because of the clear threat of death, but because a woman thought she could be a match against him. You and your pink bow were nothing compared to him. A replaceable servant couldn't be in front of a great commander of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world. He was about to teach you a lesson, and it would be the hard way.

"Are you sure you don't want me to save you? I doubt a girl as weak as you would survive long here," Naoya offered, giving you one last chance to redeem yourself.

"I don't need you to save me," you spat angrily.

"Fine," Naoya pulled a knife from his back, spinning it in the palm of his hand to wield it. "Whatever you say."

You let go of the rope when you clearly saw his intentions to hurt you, and the arrow flew into his face. He dodged it with his knife before lunging at you in the blink of an eye. Before you knew it, he was already on top of you and his knife was already at your throat. It had all happened too fast. You had no idea how he had reached you so quickly. The blade swung down as Naoya's smile grew wider. You raised your hand to deflect it, but it wasn't going to make it in time. It came so fast that you couldn't even close your eyes to await your fate.

Out of nowhere, a gigantic fist sent Naoya flying, completely away from you. The powerful commander ended up being slammed into the nearest wall. Naoya groaned in pain before falling to the ground. You were perplexed at how bizarre that had been. You touched your neck on instinct, you didn't have a scratch on it. You sat down on the grass to look around for your unexpected savior.

At first glance, he looked like any other human, but up close, things were different. He was a curse with skin covered in stitches as if his body was made of patches. He had long, blue-gray hair that reached past his neck, and was divided into three large locks with bows at the ends. He also dressed like any other human. He was wearing a black shawl that separated into three pieces on the left sleeve and matching pants with white shoes.

“I'm just arriving, and they're already welcoming me with a sorcerer to kill, how fun!” The curse exclaimed as excited as a child in the park.

Naoya stood up with difficulty, dusting off his uniform. You stood up in the same way to retrieve your bow and load it with another arrow. You approached the curse with confidence, since it had saved you, even if it had only been for its own entertainment.

“Are you okay, miss?” The curse asked you with a big smile without taking your eyes off Naoya.

“Yes, I am fine. Thank you,” You told him, along with a small bow. “Who are you?”

“My name is Mahito, I am the commander of the Jogo kingdom. You must be the lady that the king ordered me to protect.” He introduced himself. “Did the king ask you that?” You asked yourself surprised. “So let me take care of this stupid sorcerer.”

“Who are you calling stupid, you fucking curse?!” Zen'in exclaimed before launching into combat for a second round.

Mahito pushed you away suddenly to transform his arms into two tentacles with dozens of knives on them and run towards his fast opponent. Naoya's knife challenged Mahito's along with the clicking of metals. The curse laughed as if it were a game, angering Naoya even more for underestimating him. They were both moving at speeds your eyes could barely keep up with, but you loaded your bow with another arrow anyway. You tried to aim for Naoya, but he was stupidly fast and Mahito was in the way. “Maybe it’s best I don’t get involved now,” you thought with some disappointment.

Mahito changed one of his tentacles into a large sword that fell on top of Zen'in. Naoya barely dodged it, his breathing ragged from the cursed energy he was expending by keeping his technique active for so long. "Who is this guy?!" He thought annoyed before moving away with a couple of backflips until he landed on his feet.

"Fine, you win..." Naoya took the envelope out of his jacket and threw it at you like a ninja star, landing on the grass in front of you. "Just for today," he said before running towards the nearest wall to climb it and escape.

"Oh, not so fast!" You exclaimed annoyed before pulling the rope.

You looked for a target before he left your sight. You focused on his back, which was the area that was free, as he climbed the wall as if he were an agile ant. You let go of the rope and the arrow flew through the air. Naoya saw it coming and dodged out of its path, but the arrow unexpectedly changed its trajectory and stuck in his back. Naoya bit his tongue to stop himself from letting out a cry of pain and continuing on his escape route. In less than a second, he had disappeared from your sight and Mahito's.

"Ah, the king is going to scold me for running away!" Mahito whined, disappointed in his efforts.

"How come that arrow didn't stop him?" You asked yourself confused. Clearly, it hit him, but he still slipped out of your hands like a damn cockroach.

"Those Zen'in have a very strong pride. That's probably what it was," Mahito complained. "But you're very good." He gave you a thumbs up. You smiled slightly.

You looked back at the card that was lying on the grass. You picked it up to examine it. It was a brown envelope with the Zen'in Kingdom's crest stamped on a wax seal at the opening. A purple orchid on the stamp decorated the envelope, giving the package a more elegant touch.

“Gimme that,” Mahito snatched it from you, ready to open it.

“You shouldn't open it,” you warned him. “It's for the king.”

“It's from an enemy,” Mahito said as he looked for a way to open it without destroying the contents. “It could contain poison, activate some bomb or a weird technique they made up. Believe me, these Zen'in are capable of anything.”

Mahito pushed you roughly to get you away from the possible threat. You had no choice but to listen to him. This was an unusual curse. He had a playful attitude, very different from what you imagined a commander should have. You covered your ears as soon as he finally opened the envelope, in case it was a bomb. Instead of a glass or smoke bomb, it turned out to be a confetti bomb. It shot towards Mahito's face, surprising him immediately, as a colored piece of paper fell into his eye.

“Oh!” You quickly approached him. Mahito rubbed his eyes in an attempt to get it off. “Let me see,” you asked.

You grabbed his chin and pulled his hands away to meet his different eyes, since his left eye was navy blue and the other, gray. Even though it was a strange looking curse, his eyes were very pretty. You blew into his eye so that the paper flew away. Once near the tear duct, you reached for it with your thumb to remove it completely.

Your touch was very kind and warm. Mahito was so used to humans treating him so badly that it was a little uncomfortable for him that you were treating him so calmly and with such appreciation. He now understood why Sukuna had chosen you as the future queen, you were a special human.

“That's it,” you smiled at him. “What does the letter say?”

“You read it, my eye hurts,” Mahito reluctantly gave it to you, rubbing his injured eye.

You opened the envelope to check its contents. You thought it was a declaration of war or some important meeting, but no. Nothing like it. Your mouth dropped to the floor as soon as you saw what it was.

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[lenaperseveranceoxton]

I've been less motivated to post here lately because I only seem to have negative things to say about the modern state of Overwatch. I know damn well how annoying that is. In the words of Chris Griffin: "Why are you so fucking negative all the time?"

Alas, Lena "Tracer" Oxton is my original character, and I will forever be upset about how the newer developers don't seem to understand them.

First, Black Cat Tracer still drives me up the wall because they would not wear that, but even in the matching spray and name card, they don't have any of their personality. Lena has always been more puppy-coded than kitty-coded, anyway. I get it, though. Let's appease the homophobic straight men who play this game-- and Tracer, in particular-- for a living because that's where the money's at.

Then, I played Overwatch Classic, and as much as it made me appreciate how far the game has come in the few matches where I played any other hero, it is undeniably a Tracer main's playground. Thus, I played fifteen matches of Tracer and Tracer only for the "Play 15 matches as an Offense hero in Overwatch Classic" challenge, but even in my first match, hearing the old Overwatch 1 voice lines was a breath of fresh air.

They used to sound so cool, calm, and collected. Still excited and enthusiastic, no doubt, but more gentle. The way I described it while ranting to my friends who don't play Overwatch is that Tracer's new lines mostly sound like hyperactive Marvel quips written by someone who only had an "incorrect quotes taken from Vines" grasp on their personality and completely Flanderized them in the process.

This is Overwatch 2 Tracer's writing to me:

Sure, they are a silly and clumsy character at heart, but way to overdo it! Also, I still think the person who wrote the "Caught you staring!" line should be flayed alive in front of their family.

Speaking of Overwatch 1 interactions, I also realized how similar many of Overwatch 2's are. I already ranted in a previous post about how Lena used to be angrier towards Talon members-- take going from "It wouldn't be a problem if you just disappeared forever" to "Whoopsie-daisy, I got locked out of my phone," for example. In the same post, I also ranted about how Lena's new interaction with Illari feels like a duplicate of the one with Ashe.

Now, imagine the disappointment I felt when I heard the interaction they used to have with Genji about their survivor's guilt over Mondatta while playing Overwatch Classic and went through Overwatch 2's interactions to confirm my suspicions that they never take a similar tone in the glorified update latter game. They talk about the Slipstream Incident with D.Va and Mercy in Overwatch 2's spawn room interactions, but both times, they only say "Teehee! I can't believe I got lost in time! My bad!"

I know these newer interactions tend to be written by interns in their early twenties, as said interns would always celebrate on Twitter whenever their work got added to the game. Still, as a fellow early-twenty-something-year-old, the drop in quality to hiring actual, experienced writers shows. The only time we get an idea of how Lena copes with their baffling amount of trauma is when Emily tells us, the audience, in the Story Missions that they often fixate on something for hours straight to distract themself.

Whatever, man. Every time Blizzard makes a joke out of Lena "Tracer" Oxton, I give them a new mental illness in my canon rewrite. There are always new ways to torture my homunculus.

[mythvoiced]

-. wenzhe-core (pt. 4 tbh pt. 4 was gonna be qianru-centric but i'm moving it to pt.5)

really disappointed if the 'jason derulo' or pitbull yell is missing from the song, he will go :O >:|

one of the taller muses on this blog (excluding muses like nathaniel & hermes who are Tall™ to make them a lil Uncanny; Hermes is the tallest muse btw) but wants to be the little spoon So Bad

has absolutely broken a pair of glasses by sitting on them

if he takes a really, really deep breath and just sort of holds it with an unreadable expression then he's very much counting to ten in his head

can't do the thing where you wet your fingers to flip a page better because if his wet finger comes in contact with anything papery he'll do a full body visceral shudder

pray that he never accidentally drop his ice cream he's not mentally built to go through that and i am not even joking oh my god

there's a good chance he'll cry or sort of dissociate due to the ferocity of his reaction if you kiss his forehead

his whole thing is mostly Very Casual & Relaxed & Assertive on the outside but so i so close to spiraling at all times

phone always on at night, notifications always on, if you call him in the middle of the night he will pick up

the babygirlification of xu wenzhe

he's that tiktok of the guy bemoaning the fact that he's 6'3 but wants to be dainty and babied

'who's that pokemon?' 'IT'S PIKACHU' 'it's clefairy!' 'FUUCK'

if he's muttering classic vines under his breath that's fine don't worry he's all right just wenzhe in his natural habitat

absolutely genuinely and in all seriousness: what the hell is eurovision, do they... do they look at? at the world from an european angle?? i'm-?? it's colonialism and the roman catholic church, babes, what is there to look at

NO it's frankenstein's MONSTER, the SCIENTIST is frankenstein, that's NOT THE MONSTER'S NAME--

you will NEVER... NEVER catch this man(?) confessing his feelings to someone

in response to the question 'what are your pronouns': why what are you saying about me

will pronounce things wrong with his whole entire chest

pretty much anti-discovering anything new about himself

a few 'Oh That's Very Wenzhe' shots of his manga fc: here, here, here

born to "haiii uwu <33" forced to "yo wsg"

would you still love me if i was a worm

what? no, it's not neurodivergency i'm just quite literally The Worst Person To Ever Exist

a few more 'Oh That's Very Wenzhe' shots of his manga fc: here, here, here

what? no, why would i go home? i'm perfectly fine, i don't get sick- (nasal voice, half-hunched-over, sweaty, wheezes after having taken only two steps, hallucinated two separate cats out of the corner of his eye)

smart kid highschool wenzhe voice: copying my homework costs two weeks of snacks, copying from tests can go up to a month of snacks-

someone: gosh he's so tall and he looks so cool and mysterious i wonder what he's thinking about; wenzhe's brain: hi- hi- welcome to starbucks, what can i get for you, a pink drink? hm, is that your idea of being funny? what're you gonna get then? ... a pink drink. hm~ what size? a medium. mm-mm, i don't know what that is. it's like between a small and a larg- ssh, mm-mm, no; we go by tall, grande, and venti here? most people know that. oh, do i look like most people, sweetheart? absolutely not. hm, that was a little condescending, don't you think? was it? yeah. cool! ... can i get a name for your order?

[ofmermaidstories]

soulmate AU but it’s a world where platonic—and no less intense—soulmate bonds are just as common as romantic ones. like it’s not uncommon to come across siblings who are soulmates, or friends, etc etc. and like, obviously the romantic ones are romanticised—they’re popular in dramas and idols/singers will play up the mystery of their soul-bonding if it’s with another bandmate, because, you know, stans—but love is everywhere in this world, it’s a fact of life, inescapable.

and then there’s you. you’re quirkless; it’s fairly rare, these days. around you everyone is getting super-powered, and super-bonded but you’ve always just been—you, singular. you, quirkless. there’s studies, of course, that suggest quirks and the soul-bonding thing comes from the same source, has something to do with the human heart but you’re not a scientist and you’re not a quirk theorist so—eh, it doesn’t matter, you just live your life.

the most infamous soul-bonded pair in Japan would have to be Pro Heroes Deku and Great Explosion Murder Dummy Dynamight. they’ve been studied, poked at, prodded—their bond isn’t romantic in nature but they’ve torn battlefields and cities apart to get to each other, both in their anger at each other and their fear for one another’s safety. their former classmates are all tightly bonded—with marks of their own—and both Pros have been linked to other people romantically. Pro Hero Deku’s just celebrated his marriage to Japan’s sweetheart, Uravity, the pair just as close as any soul-bonded couple. And there were rumours—hope, maybe, for the perfect ribbon-tied ending to their story that it’d imply—that Dynamight was dating Red Riot, who’s affable and strong and is golden foil against the smoulder of Dynamight’s glares. but he’s not; Red Riot bonds with someone else. It doesn’t effect their relationship in the slightest but the media—and the hero fans—are disappointed for them both.

the soul-mate mark isn’t an actual, visible mark; it’s a shift in someone. falling in love at first sight is an old adage that doesn’t adequately express what happens. People describe it like knowing; just seeing someone’s face for the first time and thinking, yeah. That’s them. soul-mates who find each other early in life—like siblings, like friends, like Dynamight and Deku—describe it as it’s own presence. A tether, for good or bad, that keeps them together. There are stories of people not realising they’re soul-mates, because they’ve known each other all their lives—not realising until it was too late, until they were separated by choice or circumstance or death. sometimes you wonder if that’s what happened to you—if you met your soul-mate when you were young, too young, and just never knew.

“Don’t be silly,” your mother says in that mean, too sharp way that suggests at the heart of it, she’s worried. Her soul-mate was your father; classic and perfect and very much what you weren’t living. “Everyone around us at the time found their bonds. Don’t you remember?”

She’s talking about the time you came home from grade school, seven years old and crying, because your best friend—the only other kid in your neighbourhood who hadn’t found their bond—bonded to the new girl. She’s talking about the time you came home and slammed your bedroom door shut, fourteen years old and in tears, because your other best friend bonded with a boy he met at a sports competition. They hated each other and still hated each other to this day, fierce rivals that played against one another—

And still it was just you. You, singular. You, walking along a windy pathway, trying to shove the new book you’ve just bought into the gape of your handbag—the ribbons of your best friend’s birthday present trailing along your arm like creeper vines. A gust blows through the street and you squint as the ribbons you’ve overzealously used dance; bringing you to a halt in the middle of the path as you try to fight three things at once.

“Watch it,” a voice behind you growls, rough and annoyed. You half-turn, similarly irritated—and stop, something within you shifting.

He’s bracketing you; sour courtesy, an arm up and giving you space, making others move around him, around you.

He’s not in costume. You stare at his arm in it’s dark jacket, and then follow the line of it to his shoulder, his face; a face that might’ve been lovingly carved, once, out of marble, smoothed over with an artist’s hand and given the deep-set eyes, the wide mouth pulling into a frown.

“Eh?” He asks, when you don’t say anything. His face—classical and beautiful—pinches. “Oi, y’good?”

Oh, you think. Oh no.

Dynamight raises a fine blond eyebrow and you try to swallow the laugh at this cosmic joke back.

[aloneatpeace]

In another universe

Chapter 12

Agatha harknes

ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴡᴇsᴛᴠɪᴇᴡ

You wake from your slumber still tried from last night events. You close your eye for a minute it's so silent so silent there no sound from tv or the sound harry Or kids your eye shoot open and jump out bed.

"Alex??? “ you welcomed with a silence.

" boys ???? where are you??? "

"Alex "

"MOM..... MOM??? " At your kids scream you run out of the house. There scream come from the neighbors house. You blast open the door and enter the house.

"MOM..... MOM " You run towards where the your kids scream coming you reach a basement door with purple vines and light coming.

"boys ?? " You meet with a chilling silence.

You enter the basement it's looked like a sacred place with ancient weird symbols on the wall you look around frantically for your kids.

"Y/n, y/n . You didn't think you were the only girl with magic in this town " You startled at the new voice. Your eyes wide at women who stand in front you. "The names Agatha Harkness. It's nice it finally meet you without getting tossed away "

You stand there shocked to your core . You seen this women throughout your life. She was there whenever you're life fall apart she was the cause of it.

"She does look shocked to meet the real us doesn't she " Agatha chuckle at the rabbit in her arms. You try to get inside her head using your power.

"That's adorable my thoughts are not available to you toots they never will. So don't give yourself a migraine. We have some work to do "

"Where are my children ? “ you eyes darkening per minute. She chuckle at you. You try to use your magic But nothing happens Agatha set the rabbit down and binds your hands behind your back and legs with her magic. You powerless now and she hover you in the air and walk around the basement.

"Didn't you notice " She points to the wall which had symbols on it " Basic protection spell, one in each wall no? Nothing? " Agatha roll her eyes at your lack of knowledge in witchcraft.

You grunt and struggle against the magic restrictions. "These are runnes, y/n. In a given space only a witch that cast the runnes can use her magic. How do you not know the fundamental. Who are you. Who are you?. "

She rants about you as she hover you in the air, middle of the basement room. You continue to get our her hold but fail miserably.

"Oh, y/n when I sensed this place the after glow of so many spells cast all at once. I couldn't make heads or tails of it " She stop by the table and flipping through a spell book "mind control. A classic. Quick incantation and a feeble psyche  and your good to go " You turn your head away from her but she grab your chin making you look at her " With thousands of people under your tumb all interacting with each other according to complex storyline ,well that's something special and of course there is transmutation years of study to achieve even the smallest convincing illusion but Westview through your lens " Agatha turn a spider on the wall to a bird " Every little detail in place. You even running illusion milles away at the edge of the town. Magic on auto pilot what is your secret sister? ".

"  I didn't.... I ... Don't " You couldn't even comprehend what she was saying. You don't where is your husband and how is your childrens.

"Just recap everything from your childhood, kidnapped, scarified but Rebirthed parents dead, brother dead only lover had dead . You know you could have saved all of them " Agatha fake sympathize you but her words make you question your whole existence.

" What???.... I... Try.... I tried.... I tried.... I couldn't..."tears freely fall

" Yes y/n . You could have save them they would be alive if you were smart enough "

Images of your parents and jack and Alex came into your mind the pain and helplessness was bearable but the disappointed look crushed you. Maybe Agatha is right you could have saved them it's all your fault "I wanted.. to... I couldn't, im sorry "

"And now your childrens ,You forget I have your children " Agatha remind you. Suddenly your in your living room.

"Mom.... Help... Mom help us " You run out house to the streets. Agatha float in the air. Magic restrainings in her hands that connected Your children's neck.

"I know what you are " Agatha call out. Your childrens struggle to get out of the tight grip, tugging helplessly. "It's okey boys It's going to okey " You look into there eyes try to clam the down. You look up to Agatha eyes murderous looking

"You have know idea how dangerous you are y/n. You're supposed be a myth ,  a being capable of spontaneous creation and here you are using it make breakfast and dinner"

"Let go of my children " You said through gritted teeth. Eyes and boby filling up with range.

" Oh.. Yes, your childrens and Alex. The whole little life you are made in this chaos magic y/n " Agatha stare at you with power hungry eyes.

"And that's make you the scarlet witch "

"My powers work out here. You know that right. " You remarks

" I'm counting on it " She release your kids you scream no when they fall to the ground.

"Mom " Your kids run towards you and you hug them tightly.

" You go get your father okey " You put your hands on both their shoulder.

"But mom we can help ".they both plead you simultaneously.

" boys listen to me you be with your father. " You make the turn into other direction. "Now go".

Cas teleport everyone into the hex without any harm. They all stand in front of a pet store and alex walkout of the store with a cat in his hand.

" Well there is the man of the hour " Klaus point at him. They walk towards him without wasting a time .

Seeing bunch of people making their way towards him alex shoot them a confused look. "Can i help you with anything? ".

" Yeah your little wife.. "

"Dean " Sam yell at his brother before turning into Alex's with a apologetic smile. " Alex we have to tell you something and you have to patiently listen to us "

Alex who now glaring at dean glance at sam "well it's up to me where there i should I listen whatever you have to say and now I don't planning to do that " He walk past them , sam glare at dean for messing up before they can talk.

Kol speed in front of Alex making him jump back. " You are going to listen mate and your going to stay " Alex glare at kol before things can turn into a mess bonnie interfere.

" Alex you need to listen to us please " At Bonnie's desperate voice Alex let out a sign.

"y/n has been lying to you whole time. do you know what is happening outside the Westview " dean ask alex.

"she won't lie to me " alex clenched his jaw at accusation against you.

sam stand in front of alex " I know you think that everything happening is real but it's not. it's all lie and she is keeping you trapped in here"

that's make alex losses his control grabbing sams shirt " she is not laying . I know everything she never lied to me. I know that I'm dead and I'm not real and she created all of this ".dean stand by sams side to aid his brother

" what ??".

" I know what is happening okey. she told me everything " alex slowly release him with a defected sign.

"then you know what happening is wrong. you have to tell her and stop this " dean tell him.

"alex thousands of people are trapped in here and they don't deserve this " stefan add.

"You can't go along with this alex it's not fair to the people she can't control them " Sam try to reason with him

" Witches created to balance the nature her she is using to hurt people it's not acceptable " Elijah who was silent the whole time speaks

"it's not wrong .what wrong and unfair is ,what happened to us, is that right ? No ?. I deserved to live happily with her .we deserve to live happily but they took everything from me, from her. Where was the moral when they took everything from us . If you were so righteous where were you when she was being hunted ??where were you when they kill me and her brother her family right in front of you??? Why didn't no one helped us when we needed saving .we deserve to have this you can't say otherwise." at alex confession they stood silent knowing what happened to them indeed unfair . Alex start to walk away

"DAD.... DAD " the sound of his children make he turn to see his boys running towards them.

"boys??? what are you doing?" alex crouch down to their level. the group glance at the kids worried.

"why are you guys running???. where is mom ? "

" mom is in danger " Oliver yell at him tears in eyes.

" what??? what do mean ? " alex eyes wide at his sons word. the group look at each other wondering how you're in trouble.

"there....is this lady... " they start to tug his hands "just come to home dad mom needes us ".without looking back at the group Alex run towards you with your kids.

" come on " sam run after him dean look at cas only to see the angel to disappear. he let out a goran before following after sam.

Series masterlist

[thequeenofthenightgentlyweeps]

Be My Valentine ( Bucci Gang Edition )

Oh, yes, it's that time of the year again. What would a date with the Bucci Gang + Trish look like? Let's find out,... 👀👀👀

*Giorno Giovanna

~ You can bet on this young and handsome Don to take your breath away with this gorgeous classical set up ( of course, he would rent the whole place just for the two of you ). With the most exquisite frescoes, decorations, those elegant chandeliers, not to mention the top tier menu, you'll surely have the most wonderful Valentine's evening date, one that you would never forget for a very, very long time. Giorno's love for the arts and nature truly shines in this special place, and he wants nothing but the best for you. He makes sure that you'll enjoy the day to the fullest, and he succeeds.

*BONUS - That beautiful bouquet of gold and white roses he gave you? Yep, he made that just for you. And those vines creeping up the walls complimenting the frescoes? All of that's Giorno. Or Gold Experience.

*Bruno Bucciarati

~ Wouldn't a nice evening spent in the Capo's yacht sound romantic? Oh, yes, absolutely. With the beautiful and rustic view of Naples under the moonlight and the million stars shining in the night sky, and the feeling of the calm sea, you two will have the most intimate Valentine's. The two of you would spend the evening sharing stories about yourselves, your secrets, aspirations, your goals. And eventually, the Capo would ask you for a dance after that sumptuous meal he prepared. Have you fallen deeply in love all over again with this blue - eyed man? Definitely.

*BONUS - Yep. Indeed, he prepared the meal himself. He caught those fish fresh earlier during the day. And man, he has such surprising cooking skills.

*Leone Abbacchio

~ This man may not be the most expressive in the gang when it comes to romance, but when he finally finds the one, of course, he does his best to sweep them off their feet. The place he chooses for you reflects his love for all things goth and classical. There would be lots of candles, red roses, albeit almost wilted, and of course the wine ( we can't forget the wine, nope ). Abbacchio may be cold on the outside, but he sure is very warm deep inside. And it is not a surprise that all those tender emotions are reserved for you and only you.

*BONUS - He almost didn't notice it but his profession of love for you naturally rolled off his tongue as you two were enjoying a glass of his favorite brand of wine. And no, it's not because he's drunk. It's because he feels comfortable with you in the setting he chose for your date.

*Guido Mista

~ Ah, for once, this man has made an effort to surprise you on this special day. And he truly didn't disappoint. Yes, the red curtains and the heart - shaped cut outs displayed all over the place looked a bit cheesy ( oh, hey, he asked Narancia and Trish's help with this ), but you can't deny the amount of effort he put into this set up. He also wrote you some poems ( nah, they're just pickup lines he invented himself ) that he recited over your meal, and he even dressed smartly for the occassion! And after finishing your dinner, he gives you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and asks you to dance to the beat of Bruno Mars.

*BONUS - Yes, it's Versace On The Floor. And he sings along, too. You can't deny that's really cute. "Ooooh, take it off for me, for me, for me, for me now, girl, Versace on the flooooor,... "

*Narancia Ghirga

~ You never expected Narancia to surprise you with a rooftop dinner date. In fact, you weren't expecting him to ask you out on Valentine's, period. But, you're here now, and all you could see are the simple set up he prepared himself, the beautiful view of the city, and that huge smile plastered on his adorable boyish face as he takes your hand and leads you to your chair. His voice is so lively, and his laughter is so infectious. His surprise may be modest, but you can clearly see that he put tremendous effort into making all of this possible.

*BONUS - All of a sudden, you see Aerosmith flying towards you. And tied on it is a single rose, and a simple heart - shaped letter with the words, "I love you so much, (Y/N).

*Pannacotta Fugo

~ The day started with him suddenly asking you to leave the city with him for a while. You then find out that he has been preparing a special Valentine's picnic for the two of you in Tuscany. He wants you to enjoy this day with him away from the stress and noise of the city, appreciating nature in its fullest and most beautiful state. The air feels so nice and the atmosphere so light, that for the first time since joining the Passione, you feel like you're truly free. And Fugo feels the same. For the first time, there isn't a chain binding him and his heart to his duties as a Mafioso. His heart is just bound to yours, and only yours.

*BONUS - This is actually the first time you've seen him smile so fondly and dearly. And he blushes, too. That's the most precious thing you've ever seen.

*Trish Una

~ Trish Una's love of all things glamorous has led you two to one of the most modern and extravagant restaurants in Italy. With all the neon lights, the heart pumping music, and the lively dancing, you're in for a wonderful and truly energetic treat. Your Valentine's with her is the full embodiment of fun, and soon, you find yourself enjoying and basking in the party and nightlife with this girl. Of course, you can't say no to her when she asks you to slay it on the dance floor with her. Couple of the night, yes!

*BONUS - Trish truly shines in this element. And so do you. After the party, she asks you if you'd like to party again with her in this place.

***

[thekillingmoonmoon]

one | rose red

part one / part two / part three

(passion, love, infidelity)

Pairing: Bonten! Ran x Brother’s Girlfriend! Reader

Warnings: infidelity, mentions of guns, drugs, and violence, a vague Mitsuya x brick cameo, straight up Rindou slander (is for the sake of the plot, please)

Length: 4,2k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There were thorns in Haitani Ran’s thoughts. They curled around his mind with prickled vines, piercing his tongue with saccharine sin, saturating his thoughts with tantalising temptation.

It’s quiet, the hum of the city below melting into the faint symphony seeping from the main restaurant of the hotel where Bonten had held their weekly meeting just a few hours earlier. You and Ran were alone, seated across from each other at a private table overlooking the oceanic lights of Tokyo. A set of lit candles flickered between the pair of you, and a bottle of champagne waited patiently in a bucket of ice to Ran’s left. If Ran had ever planned a date for you, this would be it. But it wasn’t a date. Never would be.

You shifted slightly in your seat, letting out a tiny huff as you adjusted the thin ebony silk draped over your shoulders in a pathetic effort to keep the night chill from nipping at your skin. Your eyes travelled from the delicate watch on your wrist to the blank screen of your phone, where minute grey text foretold your approaching disappointment.

Rindou was late. Very late. You wondered if he was even coming. Of course, you understood that the life of a Bonten Executive was tough, unpredictable, that Rindou’s time was not his to give to you solely, freely. But tonight was meant to be different, special. It was so special that he’d forgotten the reason behind the occasion and had summarily invited his brother along for the meal.

Not that you minded, returning Ran’s wide smile with a muted grin of your own. Ran was as much a part of your life as Rindou was, and held an equally precious place in your worn-out heart. You looked over your messages to the younger Haitani once more, all read, no replies. “Shall we get started? I think Rindou’s been delayed,” you suggested, inwardly wincing at the glimmer of disappointment in your voice.

In that moment, Ran hated, actually hated, his brother. The faint gloss of your eyes betrayed the carefree lilt of your words as you mumbled over the menu, phone now faced screen down and eyebrows tightened with frustration. Even upset, you were beautiful, a divine vision clothed in swathes of vivid red and black. Your dress was new, Ran noted, a classic cut that hid more than it revealed, teasing him with glimpses of your soft skin whenever you shifted in your seat. Ran examined you over the top of his menu, order already committed to memory. How could Rindou do this to you? Again?

Ran had been surprised when Rindou had invited him to dinner with you. Wasn’t it your anniversary? You had just graduated from university too, surely that was something you’d like to celebrate with Rindou, and Rindou only? Ran was relieved he’d come though, and inwardly grimaced at the thought of you waiting alone for Rindou, waiting and waiting, abandoned for another wild night out with Sanzu.  Ran fought the frown that threatened to darken his face. It wasn’t like you were some unknown woman, a random fling that Rindou had picked up for momentary pleasure. You were Rindou’s girlfriend, and Ran’s friend. You were a reminder of their Roppongi days, the girl who had lived next door, the girl who had followed them to the top.

Back then, you’d been nothing more than another little sibling, an added ice-cream on Ran’s snack runs, an added peal of laughter to his joy whilst he teased Rindou. You had always been there, a few years younger than the boys, yet so much older in spirit. Ran smiled at you, remembering the late nights and early mornings you’d shared, sneaking out of your apartment to patch them up after fights, to dye their hair when they’d grown bored of blond. He’d watched you grow up, grow older, grow into yourself. Silently, he’d witnessed his notoriously near-sighted brother finally see you for the blessing you were, watched as your puppy-love evolved into mature devotion to his brother’s happiness. At the cost of your own. Ran’s gaze drank in the solemn mien of your face, the habitual downward curve of your lips. When last had he seen you smile? Not in the last few months, at least. Not whilst Rindou ran rampant through the streets of Tokyo, chasing after a coked-up Sanzu, leaving you behind in his wake of blood-stained shirts and forgotten dates. Rindou was a fool. A damn fool.

“Ran?” your voice tugged him free of his thorned thoughts, and he blinked back into reality. A waiter stood silently to one side, patient as you recited your order to him. Ran did the same, handing the waiter his menu without consulting it a second time. “Is everything alright?” you asked, “you seem distracted.” Violet eyes softened at you. “Not at all, my sweet. I was just admiring your dress,” Ran crooned, resting his jaw on a propped up hand, smiling slightly at the fluster that graced your face. Heat simmered beneath your skin at the silk of Ran’s gaze and you picked self-consciously at the sleeves of your dress. “It’s new, from an upcoming designer in Shibuya. Mitsuya Takashi. Have you heard of him?” Ran scrunched up his nose, the name ringing distant bells. “Yeah, I think so. I might have hit him with a brick once.” “Ran, what?” There it was, the ghost of the smile he missed so dearly. He waved away your shock. “It was nothing serious, happened during a fight with Toman, must have been ages ago.” You sipped at your water and Ran’s eyes traced the droplet that slipped from your scarlet lips over your jaw and down your neck. “Tenjiku?” Of course, you knew their history, it was yours too, after all. Ran nodded, leaning back to loosen the knot of his tie. “I didn’t like Tenjiku,” you commented, “it was too violent,” you huffed. Ran laughed. “It was a gang, princess, of course it was violent,” he cooed. You pouted, then remarked. “I would never have thought Mitsuya was a delinquent. He was a part of Toman, then?” “Yeah, one of their captains actually,” Ran perked an eyebrow at you, “Why, are you interested in him?” his tone was light, teasing, but thorns lay beneath his tongue. You scoffed, losing yourself in the swirl of water at the bottom of your glass. “’Course not,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “besides which, it’s really fucking obvious that I’m a ‘kept woman, isn’t it?’” your crimson manicure fluttered around the term with distasteful air quotes. Ran frowned. It wasn’t obvious actually. Ran had always chalked it up to your background, to the life you lived before the brothers had clawed their way to the top. You dressed quietly, and had paid your own way through university, refusing any offers from either Ran or Rindou.

“What do you mean, doll?” You raised your eyebrows at Ran. “I mean, no woman fresh out of school would be able to afford this kind of dress, Ran. Not unless she was some kind of glorified sugar baby.” Ran bit out a laugh, hoping that you were making a joke. But you were silent, your mouth set in a straight line, the glimmer of your eyes dull. “Sweetness, no,” Ran tried to reassure you, long fingers sailing across the table to wrap around your hands, “you know it isn’t like that. We just like to spoil you, that’s all.” You gave a slight tug, pulling away from Ran’s hand, but his grip was firm, warm, and your fingers remained woven with his. “That’s all it ever seems to be though,” you murmured, looking at where Ran’s pale fingers traced patterns into your skin. Your eyes flickered to his, and you were surprised to see concern in the depths of his lavender gaze. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, your words quivering as they staggered over the white tablecloth. “You know, I never wanted all this,” you confessed, “The clothes, the jewellery, the gifts, all of it. Of course,” you hurried, “I really love all that you’ve given me, all that Rin has given me, I’m really grateful…” “But?” Ran prompted you. “But,” you took a deep breath, “but, if I could give up everything, everything I’ve ever received, just to spend some time with you and Rin, just us, none of all of this,” you gestured to your surroundings. “Would you?” “Would I what?” “Would you give it all up, for us?” Ran tilted his head. Your nod was enough to set his heart racing. “In a heartbeat, Ran, in a heartbeat,” you admitted. His other hand closed over your palm, squeezing your fingers gently. “Oh, princess,” he sympathised, “you shouldn’t have to miss us like this.” You shouldn’t have to miss Rindou like this. For fuck’s sake, you were his girlfriend. His girlfriend, who now sat across Ran, blinking back a year’s worth of tears. You dabbed cautiously at your wet eyes with your napkin, squinting at the inky spots of mascara that marred the porcelain cloth.

Ran gulped and patted your hand awkwardly. What should he do? His fingers tingled, desperate to wipe away the diamonds that fell from your eyes, to curl you into his arms like he used to, when you were just kids, when there was nothing but friendship between you. Ah, that’s right. Maybe that would make you feel better. He released your hand from his grasp, his chest tightening at the muted whimper that fell from your lips at the loss of contact. Fuck, did holding your hand really mean that much? Were you really that alone? Quickly, Ran opened up the side of his jacket and reached into the inside pocket. He smiled when his fingers brushed over the velvet box nestled in the silk.

“Here,” he placed the red box in front of you and tapped the lid, “I know I missed the ceremony, but I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about your graduation.” You looked suspiciously at the box, then back at Ran. “I didn’t want to make a big deal of it,” you shrugged, averting your eyes. “But you worked so hard, sweetness, so allow us to celebrate a little?” Ran gave you a closed-eyed smile, his startlingly white teeth bright against the blurred night. He gestured towards the champagne and you nodded, watching as he smoothly picked up the bottle and began to open it. His movements were deft, careful to not let any of the bubbly liquid spill as the cork broke free with a pop. He poured each of you a generous glass, handing you the delicate stem of the drink to a toast. The golden tinkle of your glasses clinking sounded like stardust, and the champagne fizzled over your tongue in a burst of sour sweetness. You put your drink back down after a heavy sip and confronted Ran’s gift.

“Can I open it?” “No, you’re only allowed to look at it,” mirth danced in Ran’s eyes and you found yourself sticking your tongue out at him, the action a nearly-forgotten relic of your past. You opened the box, gasping softly at the sight within. There, like a drop of blood on fresh snow, lay a bracelet with a single charm. A rose. Crimson glittered at you in intricate waves of ruby, bordered by silver. “Oh, Ran,” you breathed. The man across from you chuckled. “It’s not entirely appropriate, given what you just said. But when I saw it, I knew I wanted you to have it.” You traced the silver chain with a shaky fingertip, then looked up at him. “You chose this? You, Haitani Ran?” Ran pouted into his champagne, stealing a sip before answering. “Of course I chose it? Do you really think my taste is that bad?” He faked offence. “Ran. Your hair was dyed in stripes for years, horizontal stripes, may I add?” you teased, and Ran’s heart skipped a beat at the light that had returned to your eyes. But as quickly as that spark had flared to life, it faded, and your lips fell into a downward curve. “I didn’t think you’d choose something for me yourself, I thought you’d get one of your assistants to pick a present,” your voice wavered, but then you looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Ran.” He shifted in his seat, not wanting to meet your gaze. Then he stood and shuffled over to your side of the table. “It’s my pleasure, princess,” hesitant fingers reached to pinch your cheek, another memory of your shared youth flooding his mind. He dropped to a crouch beside your chair, grabbing the box as he sank onto his haunches. “Shall I put it on?” he asked, drinking in the sight of you above him, the smell of your perfume making his head spin. You nodded and gave him a small smile, the genuine expression casting your face into heavenly light.

You had really become a beautiful woman. Long gone was the awkward teen with the too-long sleeves and slumped shoulders that used to trail after the Haitani brothers like a lost puppy. You had bloomed into a goddess, with all the grace of those old American movie stars from the films you’d watch with Ran until the youth of the morning. Back then, the pair of you had been nothing but cheap imitations, putting on fake accents and spinning giddily around Ran’s room in poor mimicry of the Hollywood stars of the 1950s. You had both been clumsy then, tripping over each other’s feet, snorting with laughter at each other’s awful recitations from your favourite scenes, often earning a litany of curses from Rindou for waking him up with your revelry. Ran paused, enchanted in your presence, bewitched by your soul, staring up at you with the reverence of a proselyte before their idol.

You gazed at each other for what felt like eternity. You were trapped in the violet storm of Ran’s eyes, the intensity of his stare rolling over you in electric waves. Had Ran always looked at you like this? Like you were the world and he was your moon, like you were a lighthouse guiding him home to the shore. Eventually, your purple haze was blinked away and Ran returned to fiddling with your gift.

“Your hand, my dear,” he teased, his palm upward to receive you. Gooseflesh crept over your skin, rippling in a shiver from where your hand met his to the very base of your spine. You watched in silence as he fastened the chain around your wrist, making sure the clasp was secure before returning your hand. You held your arm up to catch the light, your mouth parted in wonder at the glittering scatter of red that burst from the charm. “I love it,” you sighed, unaware of how close Ran’s hand was to resting on your knee. “I’m glad,” Ran bounced on his heels, “I wanted to get you something special, something you can keep close, that you can personalise,” he hooked a fingertip around the chain and traced the silver string of metal. “You can add more charms, you see,” you nodded, peering at the empty loops in the chain, shuddering when Ran’s fingers brushed over your skin. The request toppled from your lips before you could think, before you could rein in the wild words that galloped from your tongue. “Will you add to it?” the question is small, almost whispered, and it falls over Ran like rain over parched earth. “Of course, sweetness. Anyone can add to it, all they have to do is give you a charm.” You shook your head. “No. No one else can add to this, I’ve decided. Only you can,” you looked down to him, “that is, if you want to?” For once in his life, Ran was speechless. This was not just about a bracelet, about some sweet little gift he’d given you. This was about you and him. Only. He pressed his lips to the top of your knuckles, kissing you chastely before smiling up at you. “It would be an honour, princess.” He cradled your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back over your hand, his other hand on his knee.

“Ran?” there’s blood in your voice, pained and red. “Yeah?” he frowns at you, startled to find tears once again threatening to spill from your lashes. “What am I doing?” “What do you mean, my sweet? You’re having dinner with me?” you shook your head, your grip on his hand tightening almost imperceptibly. “That’s the problem, Ran. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so, so happy to have you here,” you wavered, “But Rin was meant to be here too. Tonight,” you exhaled, “tonight is…” “Your five year anniversary?” Ran finished for you. You blinked at him. “Yes, but? How? Why do you remember?” you asked him. Ran shrugged. “It’s important to you, why wouldn’t I remember?” You clicked your tongue. “It’s not important to Rindou, clearly,” you looked at the empty chair beside you. Ran’s other hand closed over your knee and gave you a reassuring squeeze over the soft cloth of your dress. Ran frowned as he watched you wind your fingers into the scarlet fabric, your fist clenched.

“Hey, Ran?” he hummed to confirm that he was listening. “What if I did give it all up?” Ran’s eyes snapped open and his spine straightened. “What? What are you saying?” A single tear slipped from your eye, trickling down your cheek with a diamond shimmer. “I’m saying that I’m tired, Ran. I’m tired of being Rindou’s plaything. You would think I was some kind of doll, the way Rindou dresses me up and parades me around, only to forget about me the moment his back is turned,” you sniffed, “I’m not a toy, Ran. And I’m not a problem that can be solved with money, either. I’m a person, and I’m tired of being treated like an object.” Ran’s thumb stilled, caught midway in tracing his initials over your hand. “Do you want to leave my brother?” The tears washed down your cheeks in crystalline waves, and when you nodded in reply, a sob broke past your lips in a choked gasp. There was no hesitation now, and Ran folded you into his chest in the space of a heartbeat, cradling you in his arms as you slid off your chair into his embrace. With your face tucked into the crook of his neck, you wept, a deluge of tears soaking into his suit jacket whilst he whispered sweet comforts into your ear. “That’s it, let it all out,” he cooed, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Eventually, you pulled away with a hiccup and a sniff. You flashed a watery smile at Ran as he offered you a napkin, and let him scoop you back onto your chair with a kiss to the temple and a pat to your knee. He draped his jacket over your shoulders, and you caught the glint of his gun nestled in the holster beneath his arm. You dragged yourself back together, wiping what was left of your makeup away with the napkin. Ran still crouched before you, both of his palms resting on your knees, their warmth seeping through the skirt of your dress. “There’s my girl,” he caught one of your hands in his, his grip on your fingers gentle and steady. You blinked away the blurs in your eyes. “Thank you,” you mumbled and Ran chuckled.

“You’re gonna break his heart, princess,” he commented. Your lip wobbled and you opened your mouth to speak, but Ran held up a finger to silence you. “That’s not a bad thing. The brat deserves a little pain after the shit he’s put you through,” he tapped the back of your hand with the tips of his fingers, “But I have to say, I’m a bit cross with you, sweetness.” Your face fell. “Why? What did I do now?” you pouted. “Why didn’t you call me? Or message me? I could have helped, you know?” “How? By beating the shit out of Rin?” you giggled. “It worked before, why wouldn’t it work now?” Ran deadpanned. “It worked before because he was a middle-schooler, Ran, not one of the top dogs in the biggest gang in Japan. You can’t just go around beating up the other Bonten Executives,” Ran looked unconvinced. “I can if they’re my idiot kid brother, especially if they’re my idiot kid brother,” he raised an eyebrow at you, oddly serious.  The truth in his tone shuddered down your spine and you frowned at him. “Would you really?” you pressed. Ran cocked his head. “For you, yeah,” he admitted. “But Rindou’s your brother?” “And you’re just as important to me as he is, maybe more so, now that I know he’s been treating you like this.” The confession poured from his lips like wine from a bottle, rich and red.  His words curled around you in the comfort of his jacket over your shoulders, in the smoky sandalwood scent that sparked heat between your ribs. Ran took your hand, the one blessed with the silver shine of his gift, and placed another kiss to your knuckles.

“Ran,” you breathed his name like air, like it was all that kept you alive. Your skin burned beneath his lips. You shivered as he turned your hand over, chastely kissing the inside of your wrist, the blood beneath racing at a speed faster than light itself. “Yes, my sweetness, my pretty girl,” Ran murmured his saccharine sighs into the silken skin of your pulse, lips never leaving your sensitive wrist. “Thank you,” you whispered, as soft as candy floss, sweet as spun sugar. Ran raised a brow at you, drinking deep on the sight of your parted lips, your glazed eyes. “For what, princess?” “For always looking after me,” your fingers shakily curved over his cheek, cupping his face in your hand, “You’ve always been so kind to me, so caring, despite everything else,” your eyes flickered to where his gun hung, tucked below his arm in its leather holster. You gulped, swallowing down the sob that threatened to return to your treacherous tongue. “You’ve,” you wavered, “you’ve never forgotten me, never stopped taking care of me,”  you traced your thumb over Ran’s unblemished cheekbone, your gaze fixed to his, losing yourself to the soft lavender of his eyes.

“So, Ran, thank you,” you repeated, the meaning of each word resounding with truth, a truth that poured from the depths of your chest, your ribs tight with emotion. You stared at the man kneeling before you, honoured that such a man should look at you with such adoration, affection. You loved Ran, loved him like the sea loved the sunrise, like the clouds loved the dusk. His presence gave you power, gave you potential, the promise of a life passionately lived, loved. But Rindou had stolen your heart, snatched it away with calloused hands and loving candour.

But he hadn’t held your heart as you held his. You had cradled Rindou’s heart in your chest, carefully, devotedly, whilst yours had fallen from Rindou’s back pocket, lost to the grime and grease of a dark alley covered in blood. And so, you decided to leave Rindou’s heart on that untouched table for three, bleeding between the cutlery set for an empty seat.

Ran’s long fingers intertwined with the hand that held his face, his long lashes fluttering over his porcelain skin, his lips shifting to softly kiss the palm of your hand. He looked up at you, his eyes melting from violet to a darkened indigo.

“It’s always been my pleasure to take care of you, pretty girl,” the smooth lilt of his voice deepened as he rose from his haunches to his feet. You craned your neck back to look at him, his shins knocking gently against your knees, his figure framed by moonlight. Ran leaned down over you, one hand gripping the back of your seat over your shoulder, whilst he traced over your cheek with the knuckles of the other. Your breath hitched at his touch, and you forcefully blinked your gaze away from his bewitching eyes. He was too close, his breath tickling your skin, his lips just a gasp away from yours. You tried to turn your head away, but he caught your chin with steady fingers, maintaining that dizzying eye-contact beneath lowered lids.

“Sweetness, look at me,” you shivered at the thorns lacing his voice, but complied, your stomach turning over itself as his name fell in a whisper from your lips. “Ran…” Ran’s fingers ghosted over your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before trickling down to the back of your head. He brushed his nose over the curve of your cheek, his lips achingly close.

“Will you let me take care of you once more?” his question curled around you like barbed wire, entangling you in a vine of thorns, pricking your skin and ensnaring your heart in red velvet petals. You gave in, nodding ever-so-slightly, closing your eyes and letting Ran claim your red lips for his own.

my little flowers: @sujiko​  @cursedmoonchild @issamomma​ @ravenina14​ if you would like to be tagged in future works, please sign up here

[milf-harrington]

exploring a different way of writing <3

i saw a prompt somewhere once about a narrator coming in late and not knowing anything about the story and i guess this is just my take on that? i thought it'd be a fun writing exercise (:

-

Right off the bat, I've got no idea what's going on or where we are, but at least you and i are in this together. Same boat and all that.

Okay so: we have a classic coffee shop setting, nice. There's enough empty tables that it's probably early morning- never mind it's late evening, actually, possibly an hour or so away from closing time.

The night is mild, though the moon and any stars are hidden beneath a thick covering of clouds. Leaves skitter across the road in bursts of sounds like the scrabbling claws of rats, their dance lost to the shadows of the gutter. Spooky.

The coffee shop itself is quiet and still, even with the baristas moving about behind the wooden counter and someone's work playlist drifting through the speakers in lazy whispers. A girl with delightfully crooked teeth and a scowl has her bright green hair twisted up on top of her head with a pen, tendrils escaping and curling down past her neck or tucked behind her ear along with a second pen.

She looks up at the empty doorway, sees nothing but her own murky reflection in the dark glass, and her scowl deepens, something like nerves seeping through in the way she reorganises the table numbers from odds to evens and glances around at the customers.

She appears to be waiting for something, possibly someone. She doesn't seem all that confident about the impending rendezvous.

I'm getting the feeling that possibly you and I have stepped into a horror story.

Leaving the coffee shop, we head a few streets over to another young-ish woman in frightfully bright pink flare pants and a black turtleneck. She's marching down the road, muttering all sorts of unpleasant things under her breath about someone named Nicole and something about spiked drinks.

That doesn't sound hopeful, but our mystery girl seems more focused on her swirling rage than any potential danger so maybe she wasn't the one with the spiked drink.

Ahead of her, just two more crossings away, the coffee shop glows like a beacon and some of the irritation seems to leak out of her. Hope, at last.

The girl speeds up a little, the bag she had slung over her shoulder bouncing against the backs of her thighs. In the light of a street lamp she's quite pretty, of the average variety. It's hard to tell the actual colour of her skin with the aggressive whiteness of the streetlight and the way it glows across her body but it looks like some sort of brown, possibly fairly light like she doesn't get a lot of sun. Maybe she does. Maybe she's just pale.

Her hair is long and wavy and falls over her shoulders and past her face in droopy vines, like molasses. It looks very soft actually, and turns a hundred shades of brown in the bright light before fading fast back to something close to black in the shadows.

When she finally reaches the coffee shop, she barely glances up before shoving her way inside, still looking thunderous and slightly homicidal as another warm breeze blows her hair around her face.

A well timed lightning strike and accompanying crack of thunder would go so well with that entrance but alas, all that happens is our green-haired barista looks up, startled but ultimately disappointed.

Not the barista's secret meet-er-upper, then. That's a word, probably.

Mysterious girl in the bright pink, is now clearly Polynesian in the bright and friendly coffee shop lights. Attempting to guess the specifics would likely be awfully insulting so we'll stay away from that and instead go back to how she's now marching towards the counter, a woman on a mission.

It's not until she's close enough for the thin chain around her neck to glint prettily that the green-haired baristas expression drops into one of surprise before she promptly... bursts into laughter?

Mysterious girl only curls her lips in an honestly terrifying scowl, eyes wide and brows scrunched together in outrage. Her bag slides down her shoulder and clatters against the counter when she slams her hands down onto it.

"Fix it."

Oooh okay maybe mystery girl was the one with the spiked drink. And also apparently who the green-haired barista might have been waiting for.

The same barista who is now folded in half and wheezing, attracting the attention of whatever poor sleep-deprived souls were sheltering within the shop.

Mystery girl only scowls harder, very reminiscent of the barista earlier, and blows out an explosive sigh with enough force that a few stray hairs fly into the air like the limped wrist of a drag queen mid-performance.

"I'm serious, use your stupid magic and fix what Leslie's done to me."

Oh, shit, okay who the fuck is Leslie- a Nicole was mentioned earlier but not a Leslie.

The green-haired barista has straightened up and is now dabbing under her eyes with a wobbly smile, like she's still one well-timed pun away from losing it all over again.

Maybe the barista is Nicole.

"I'm serious Eden-" that's a no then "-I refuse to live like this." With movements sharpened by her apparent loss of temper, mystery girl gestures to all of her.

Hm. I mean.. it doesn't seem like anythings wrong but I mean, I have missed one or two or seven plot points.

"Oh, Lamb..." Eden takes a deep breath, struggling to bite back her smile as she looks her friend(?) up and down. "If it's any consolation you make a very pretty woman."

Oh.

[cyoc49]

Auto Pilot

James was 18 and already shaping up to be a disappointment in life. After spending four years of high school slacking off, doing drugs, and not caring about anything, he now found himself a freshman in college with little prospect of where to go. He was attending the local community college - he hadn’t even wanted to do that, but his parents threatened to kick him out and cut off funding if he didn’t do some higher education. Now he found himself wandering aimlessly around campus. He had no idea what his major would be, no plans of any kind, really. He wanted to stay as distant from this college experience as possible.

To be honest, James did sometimes think about his lack of aim in life. The truth was he truly did fear committing to anything in life, for the risk of making the wrong choice, and so invented a “don’t care” persona to cope with his lack of place in the world.

James arrived at his dorm, and made his way upstairs to his room. He shared it with some guy, Clide. They didn’t talk much. As he got to the door of his room, he noticed a package sitting in front of the door. He picked it up and inspected it. Relatively small, lightweight, addressed to him. Odd. Usually this type of thing would be sent to the mail room. As James entered his room, he put the package down on his desk. Clide wasn’t there, he was probably at class.

“Might as well check this thing out,” James said to himself as he opened the box. Inside was a big red button reading AUTO PILOT.

Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. It was one of those comically oversized buttons like you saw in movies. He had never seen one this big in person. And what did “Auto Pilot” mean?

Looking back into the box, James found a small booklet labeled “User’s Manual”. He picked it up and read the contents:

“INCREDIBLE AUTO PILOT BUTTON

Life can be exhausting. School, jobs, bills, food, house troubles, and countless other decisions have to be made and executed every day. At the end of the day, is all the grind really worth it? Wouldn’t you rather take the easy route? The better route?

The Auto Pilot button is simple. Press it, and your life will be set to “auto pilot”. We’ve spent decades studying the behavior patterns of successful people, and have created a formula by which we have the correct response to every obstacle and issue you will ever face in your life. Job troubles? You’ll always be a hard worker who knows how to get what he wants. Social issues? You’ll have the right line for every occasion. You’ll be more outgoing, more ambitious, and best of all: you don’t have to do any of it. When you’re on auto pilot. You can sit back and watch as your body makes all the right decisions for you. One press is all that’s needed.

Enjoy your life on auto pilot!”

James checked the back to see if there was anything else. He didn’t know what to think. He almost wanted to laugh. It had to be a joke, but the tone of the pamphlet was so certain that it could also be the delusions of some eccentric billionaire. Ah well, at least he finally had something to go on his barren desk. He slid the auto pilot button to the back corner of his desk, then paused. He pressed down on the button, just to see what those big red buttons really feel like.

Unfortunately for James, one press is all that’s needed.

*click*

As the button clicked down, James’ body slumped.

His eyes went dead.

And then he suddenly smiled.

And he kept smiling.

James was 22 and life was looking pretty great. After pressing that button his freshman year, James completely turned his life around, as if overnight. He suddenly started paying attention in all his classes. He began going to the gym, and joined an intramural soccer team. By the end of his freshman year, James had gained 25 lbs of muscle, going from a boney 150 to a beefy 175. He also ended his year, with a 4.0 GPA, and used it to apply to the local state school. It just offered him more opportunities than community college, and had better networking circles. James got in handily, and that fall found himself moving across state to university.

Almost as soon as he landed on campus, James continued his life climbing. He declared majors in international business and finance, knowing the money opportunities that lay there. The course load was nothing for James, as he always worked on homework at maximum efficiency. In fact, he had time left over to join a club lacrosse team.

Through his finance classes and lacrosse practices, James came to realize the social circle he needed to join if he wanted to get ahead: The rich preps. They were the ones who exuded the aura of success he wanted to project, and the ones with the connections to jobs after college. He modeled himself after them. He began to dress like them, in khakis and pastels, and leather loafers. Vineyard Vines, Ralph Lauren, and Brooks Brothers invaded his closet. He began to manage his hair, combing it into a neat side part every morning with pomade. He researched golf news, followed stock market trends, so he would have topics to talk about with these preps.

Slowly, by bringing up the points he now new about with classmates, and by projecting the image of a successful young preppy professional, James came to be accepted as one of their own. One of the boys. His ultimate dream. From that point it was easy: James was Mr All American, effortlessly witty and charming. By the time he was a senior, James was on fire. He had served as captain of his lacrosse team for the past 2 years, was top of his business classes. He had met several of his new friend’s fathers (all of them CEOs), and in most cases the fathers ended up liking James more than their own children. James was a professional in all aspects, and he did it all with a bright, mindless smile.

The one thing James hadn’t accomplished in college was finding a girlfriend. Of course he’d had several offers, but he never took a woman to call his own. Every once in a while he found himself staring at the guys on the lacrosse team while they changed, but these were only fleeting feelings. Certainly not the most efficient way to live his life.

But this didn’t matter to James. In just a few months he would be graduating top of his business program, and thanks to the father of a friend he had a job lined up at Plexicorp, one of the biggest marketing chains in the nation. James was only 22 and he was a consummate professional. Is this what a perfect life looks like?

James was 30 and on top of the world. After graduation he went right into work at Plexicorp, and immediately assumed the stereotype of a “young urban professional”. His work ethic was tireless, and through a mixture of countless golf matches and the perfect water cooler humor, James quickly became the most popular guy in his office, and the model employee. He rose in the ranks quickly, and was now a regional manager with a six figure salary at only 30.

With extra cash to spare, James had gone to work giving his life an upgrade. He bought clothes from extremely expensive brands, though sticking to his preppy classics. He got salon quality pomade for the classic styling of his hair (which had only gotten lighter over the years), and routinely had dermatology and dental work done to keep his face looking as fresh as possible. He bought a serene little cookie cutter McMansion out in the suburbs. Even with all this going on, he perfectly worked time into his schedule for gym and nutrition, keeping his body in peak shape even as he got older. At age 30, James was quickly approaching a DILF.

With the perfect job, the perfect clothes, and the perfect body, you’d think James would have quickly found a suitable wife, or at least someone looking for a QoL upgrade. But even over the years, James still never found himself fully committed to women, even though he knew starting a family young would be most productive in the long term. In a particular night of conflicting emotions, James made his way to a leather bar on the outskirts of town, where a nice 50 year old man with a beard and a harness taught James what he had always known. He was gay. And he loved it.

There must have been a hole in the Auto Pilot system. Certainly heterosexuality would be most efficient for a successful life, but somehow James’ base feelings came through. Of course he had no way of knowing what was going on in his body. All he knew was what was most efficient, and what felt best were in opposition to each other right now.

Eventually, with a smile, the straight James won out. After his encounter with the leather clad friend, he quickly found himself not thinking about sex at all. A life of chastity was certainly good enough for him. Letting sex be for pleasure hardly worked out, as we see. Sex should be for utility. Creating the family. And to get a family, he needed a wife.

The following weekend James took a trip to his local country club, and after a bit of scouting, chatting, and brown-nosing, James was introduced to Amber, an interior decorator. She wasn’t the most brilliant with a conversation, but she was single and looking to marry and that was enough for James. They went on several incredibly vanilla movie and dinner dates, where hand holding was the most action either of them got. After 8 months, they married and moved in together.

Now standing here at 30, James looked in the mirror. He felt his decently-sized chest push against the cotton undershirt and mint green button up sitting on top. His rotund and muscular ass was perfectly wrapped by his khakis. He looked down at the counter of his bathroom. Marble. With plenty of space. Even with his tricky sex situation, James had to admit he had a great body and a great life. He had made (almost) all the right decisions, and was reaping plenty of the rewards. As far as living life, this was a pretty good way to do it.

James was 40, and life was perfect. The shareholders of Plexicorp were so impressed by his keen business instincts and impressive management, and at only 32 offered to make him the youngest shareholder in the history of the company. From there he went from “pretty well off” to “disgustingly wealthy”. James knew how to invest his money well, and from the moment of that promotion never worried about money again. He moved into a mansion in the nice part of town and upgraded his wardrobe to suits, suits, and more suits. Now that he was one of the elites, he had to project as such. He kept his appearance as clean and refined as possible at all times. He loved to flash off in a khaki suit (a nod to his preppy roots), and with his now perfectly-blonde hair, he was the absolute image of refinement. He had certainly aged like fine wine, and there was no doubt about it: James was a DILF.

The only sore spot in his life has been Amber. After years of trying and failing to conceive due to lack of excitement, Amber eventually asked to file for divorce. James knew he had to grant her this, and handled the proceedings quietly (and generously) to let go of her gently. At 35, James was finally meeting a dead end that his Auto Pilot skills were unable to find a solution to.

Until he had an investment meeting with a local stock analyst named Robert

Robert was an image of success, beauty, and sharpness that James had seen in only one other man: himself. It was almost unnatural how beautiful and crisp Robert was. His perfectly parted hair. His well-fit gray suit and polished dress shoes. As James eyed this man up and down, it dawned on him. Robert must have made every decision perfectly in life to look like an image of success in his his 30s, because he did. Robert had help from Auto Pilot too. And judging by the lack of a ring on his finger, and the way he was eyeing James in the exact same way James was eyeing him, James had a suspicion that Robert had the same problem he had.

Robert was someone whose every value, choice, and lifestyle matched up with James’.

James knew exactly the right decision to make.

The two flashed each other perfect smiles and firm handshakes, and although the topic of their first meeting stayed on stocks, it was clear there was a mutual spark between the two. They quickly decided that weekly investment meetings would be best, which turned into lunch meetings twice per week, which turned into dinner, which turned into something much more. The two took it slow, to be safe, but it was clear they were disgustingly perfect for each other. On Tuesdays and Thursdays they met up at the gym at 6AM to exercise together. They had quickly learned they wore the same suit size, and exchanged looks on several occasions. Robert taught James just how he achieved his razor sharp part, and James taught Robert how to match pocket squares to outfits. After a few years of dating they married in a picturesque countryside summer wedding, and both knew this one would last.

Now standing here at 40, James could genuinely say life was perfect. He had gone from an aimless place in his life to the top of the world, and although it had been a bumpy road, he was now with the perfect partner living a life of gentility. Checking his suited image in the mirror one last time, James left the bathroom and walked to the front door where Robert was waiting. The two had plans to attend an orchestra show and get dinner at the nicest restaurant in town.

James flashed Robert the perfect smile, and Robert returned the favor.

“Ready to go, darling?” James asked the man of his dreams.

“Of course, love.” Robert replied in a smooth tenor. The two briefly joined to kiss, before heading outside where the driver was waiting to take them into the city for another wonderful night.

[primusdemoniccreatrix]

Playing Sus Music Around The Slashers

This is me being stupid, inspired, and procrastinating. Enjoy the stupidity.

Also the song in reference: Man Areas by Jonny McGovern (might make a "Slashers React" series)

Warnings: cursing, indirect stripper and sex worker mentions, maybe bad imagery, memes, gore in some gifs

RZ Michael Myers:

Loud, thumping music? Okay, he's heard some thumping like this

Hears its about strippers and it brings a few memories and he feels iffy about it. He knows you don't disrespect them as you know about his past probably, and he questions your song choice, but believes its about appreciation, so no biggie, he guesses.

When the chorus goes then he's more stiff than usual, frozen in shock.

What

Hol' up-

What is this dude singing?

Finds out its about male strippers. Okay...the song is still questionable though

Is confused

Look he likes you marginally a lot more than most people but please, what the fuck

It soon becomes funny to him and he just...enjoys the bass, and the stupidity of the song.

Gremlin giant likes to play it to annoy you. Tables have turned.

Bo Sinclair:

likes the beat; for a pop song it's not too bad

then it gets to the lyrics.

SHUT IT OFF

NO SERIOUSLY SHUT IT OFFFFFF

Will cuss up a storm and look at you like you've grown a new head

What in the actual FUCK

Will yell at you to turn it off

If you don't he'll try to destroy the speaker run away with it, them shits expensive sometimes

He's like the woman who is trying to turn off Nicki Minaj's song on Vine

Is fighting for his life to turn off the speaker

IF you turn it off he'll cuss at you and tell you not to do it again.

IF you don't, it'll lead to a bigger tirade and broken machinery.

You've been banned from music for 72 hours

Disappointed DadTM facepalm

He'll be laughing about it in a few more days' time tho.

Vincent Sinclair:

Not one for pop music as he enjoys the classics and metal, but will let you play your music

The lyrics go on and he's just...confused. What's this about strippers and things? The singer likes strip clubs, like Bo? Okay...why hype them up?

Then it gets to the chorus-

Is frozen for a second

The poor boy just looks so dumbfounded. You could have hit him with a chair and he'd be less stunned

WHAT IS THIS?!

Turn it off, turn it off, please-

He's getting second-hand embarrassment

He's hoping to GOD it doesn't wake up Bo. These are thin floors, pLEASE-

He'll reach for the speakers, silently begging you to turn it off. He cares and respects you and won't touch if you stop him but please he's begging you tUrN iT oFF-

IF you turn it off, he'd be very grateful and then ask a flurry of questions in sign language. His posture and gestures scream 'wHY??'

IF you don't turn it off, Oh lord if Bo hears this, he is never gonna live it down. He'll exile you from the studio for 2 weeks. You're not getting near him with that.

You didn't hear this from me but now every time he makes a male wax figure he has to stop every few minutes and breathe because of the intrusive thoughts that song gives him. PLEASE spare him, his mind is racing more than enough as it is.

Lester Sinclair:

You're blasting it in his truck

At first, thinks its about strippers. Okay, not bad. Cool, so like, women hot, right?

The chorus hits-

As do the brakes.

Will sit there for a full minute, not moving, looking confusedly at the radio blaring that song and then look at you like he just saw a hit deer get up and walk while literally being inches from death.

Wordlessly goes to turn it off.

You stop his hand.

Look, he respects you and cares about you a hella lot but what the hell

He'll ask you one time to please stop the song, then you tell him its a prank

Well two can play that game and he kinda wants to be cool and chill with you, bestie

He'll start bumping to the song along with you, but refuses to sing along if you are

Starts laughing, it becomes his hype song that he listens to in private for shits and giggles

Shows Bo and Vincent, who just tell him to get lost

Congratulations, you've given him enough ammunition to destroy the Sinclair braincells (which are a grand total of 3.5)

Gabriel May:

Vine voice: bITCH WHAT THE FUCK- WhUt ThE fUcK-

Power of electricity: used

Music devices? Shut off

Your music? Cancelled.

You've been banned from music

He actually thinks its hilarious and is gonna use it on Maddy every time she sees a man, be it romantically or just a fleeting glance and thinking they're aesthetically pleasing

He's got a playlist of sus music cause he can roam the internet and its 2021-22, so-

Will never let you live this down. Will make you regret showing it to him.

Menace with a speaker. What have you done?

Freddy Krueger:

Look I don't know shit about this man other than he's a menace and I haven't watched any of his movies yet but with the context I have, he loves it because its so awful and putrid in his opinion that he'll infect everyone's dreams with it and he'll torment any men and women and non-binaries, anyone at all. He will use this religiously. I have a bad feeling about it unless you both like it, if you do enjoy it, you'll be the reason of the Cringe-pocalypse, you dynamic duo.

Gremlin

(I only did these few slashers cause these are all the ones I know so far, but hey, enjoy lol. My bestie made me listen to it so now I must infect you all with it)

Also PSA: I understand that some things mentioned can be triggering, and I am talking about sex work, but if you are not triggered and just an asshole about sex workers and think of them as inferior I will personally invite you to eat my ass cause you eat shit and that apparently fuels your brain. All workers matter here, all professions are valid and deserve to be made safer and sex work is created by demand so if you want people stuck in it to be helped, stop the demand not the supplier who is just trying their best. And no one, NO ONE, dare talk shit about sex workers who enter the profession and enjoy it and like it so much. Fuck off. It's their choice, not yours. Let people live.

[helbramstrauma]

Current Top 10 Anime Favorites

10. Madoka Magica

This was higher on my list last time but I've decided to move it to 10th. Sailor Moon was my first anime, so once I started getting into darker stuff Madoka Magica was a great bridge. I love deconstructive, almost ironic, type animes. Something that goes against your original expectations.

9. Assassination Classroom

I believe this is the same placement it got last time. Ass class is truly timeless and is comforting and devesting. I find myself in the mood to rewatch it often so it's kind of a staple to me.

8. Devil is a Part-Timer

Another comfort anime of mine, though it is not my go to to watch for comfort (That's the royal tutor which isn't in the ranking but is still amazing check it out!). I'm not a big fan of Isekai but this is the exception.

7. Fruits Basket

This is new! It was not on my previous ranking but it has broken the top 10. Going in blind was one of the best decisions I have ever made, I didn't even know about the whole turning into animals thing. The fact that it can make cry of laughter and sadness is impressive. And to my therapist the Cinderella-ish episode is a good coping mechanism.

6. Moriarty the Patriot

You may have noticed that Bungou Stray Dogs is no longer on this list. It is true that I am a classic literature nerd, but I have been reading Arthur Colan Doyle's Sherlock since elementary school. I even named my cat after Moriarty! So just seeing it from a different perspective made me so happy! Even though I have read some works from Dazai, Chuuya, and the others but I read these books in my youth and it brings a sense of nostalgia for me that Bungou does not.

5. Haikyu

I believe this moved up in rankings! The reason it has risen the ranks is because of how often I rewatch it. It is something I can never get tired of, so it is special in some way. I don't even like volleyball but oh I love these teams!

4. Wonder Egg Priority

Remember when I said I love animes that are not quite what they seem, Wonder Egg fits that. Usually I don't gush about animation, but this is an exception, the art work is beautiful and is the whole reason why I started it. Also we do have lgbt representation. It is oddly relatable in ways, also it has its uplifting moments. Truly a phycological masterpiece in my opinion

3. Sk8 the Infinity

Ooh, we are entering the top 3, Sk8 in so many ways is close to my heart. First of all the dub cast is amazing, and it made me buy a skateboard. Also I have started watching professional skateboarding! It also taught me the "x-games" is a real competition not just something said in a vine.

2. Hunter x Hunter

So Sk8 and hxh switched positions since last time. However I find myself rewatching hunter x hunter a lot for a 148 episode show. Hunter x hunter is one of those things that it just gets better the more you watch it. You will always miss a detail and you can discover more parts about it during each watch through. It makes the show so rewatchable.

1. Higurashi: When They Cry

Have I started the remake? No. It is because I am scared it will disappoint me. The layers of this show is incredible, along with the world building and the twist and turns. People say it is hard to comprehend, but I say you aren't meant to understand everything it adds to the mystery. Also once you finish the second season, and you rewatch the first it changes the show. Watching higurashi for the first time is something I will never experience again.

Again these are just my opinions please don't send death threats. I mostly do this for myself so I can see how my taste changes over time (08/2021)

[kingwuko]

Wuko in the Comics: Ruins of the Empire, Book 1 part 2

Welcome to my series of posts discussing Wuko in the Comics. In this post I'll continue to discuss RotE Book 1. There are some... interesting moments in the second half of this comic, including a very famous line that all but confirms canon Wuko.

Plot Summary

Fearing that Guan will use violence to stop the election, the Krew decides to bring Kuvira along with them to Gaoling, hoping that she can talk him down. When they come face-to-face with Guan, however, they discover he does not intend to use violence, but will run in Gaoling’s election. The Krew decides the best solution is to find another candidate with enough public support to defeat Guan fair and square; and they decide to ask Toph to run. It is revealed, however, that Guan does not intend to win fair and square. He’s planning to brainwash Gaoling’s citizens to vote for him.

Major Plot points in the second half of Book 1

We start off right away with the Sauna Scene. Everyone looks excellent. The ladies' sauna wear is lovely. Mako and Bolin have their classic swim suits seen in season 1. Wu is literally just wearing a towel. I found myself googling saunas and steam baths to see if it’s normal to wear swimsuits or just a towel, and everything I read said pretty much anything goes as long as you are comfortable, but I do find it interesting that everyone wears swimsuits except Wu. Maybe because he does steam baths more often and he’s just more comfortable in that setting? He seems pretty confident and not at all shy. I don’t have anything analytical to say about it, I just think it’s an interesting detail, that he doesn’t seem to have any hang-ups about being nearly naked around Mako his friends.

They are discussing Guan’s militaristic movement toward Gaoling, and tossing ideas around to handle the situation. Mako not-so-helpfully suggests using force with the united forces which Zhu Li shoots down right away, not wanting to escalate the situation. Wu agrees and wants to find a peaceful resolution. Korra, remembering her conversation with Kuvira, thinks she has the answer. She proposes bringing Kuvira along to Gaoling, which NOBODY is happy about. Asami is upset because she made it clear earlier she does not want to be in the same room as Kuvira, Bolin is distressed because Kuvira nearly had him killed when he defected from her inner circle, Mako points out that he nearly lost his arm taking down the mech, Zhu Li says she invaded republic city, Asami reminds everyone that Kuvira killed her father, and Wu boldly declares that we can’t forget she ruined his coronation… He quickly reads the room and apologises (character growth?).

Korra acknowledges everyone’s concerns and points out that she truly believes Kuvira can be an ally- she was their ally when Zaheer was trying to kill her and the airbenders; and when her spirit vine weapon ripped open a new portal to the spirit world, Kuvira thought she had died and Korra believes that changed her. Bolin points out that Kuvira is very persuasive and may have a good shot at convincing Guan to stand down. Everyone is convinced and declares their support for the plan.

Zhu Li orders Kuvira’s release and Korra brings her onto the airship taking them all to Gaoling. And, I’m sorry, this frame is like, the bitchiest collective look from Mako, Wu, Bolin and Pabu. I just love it.

They initially plan to restrain her, but decide it’s pointless when Kuvira points out if she wanted to escape that she would have already. They arrive at Gaoling and there’s no sign of Guan and his army. Kuvira is certain he’ll be there, and points out that she needs to change so she doesn’t meet with him looking like a prisoner.

Korra and Wu go to meet with the election candidates. Their portraits are on the wall and it’s revealed that the candidates are both elderly magistrates who have been working in the local government for a long time. They are practically indistinguishable from each other, which causes Korra concern. Wu isn’t happy about it either, he was hoping the elections would bring in new leaders to take the earth kingdom in a new direction. Instead, it looks like nothing will change in Gaoling or the rest of the earth kingdom if things play out the same way. They are both disappointed but Korra is optimistic that this is the first election and over things will improve as they iron out the political kinks

Back in the flying machine, they give Kuvira an outfit of Asami’s that is…. Like I can’t put it into words. I’ve never seen asami wear it and that is a shame. The word that comes to mind is “Dapper”. Like is we saw Asami wearing it when they first introduced her character literally everyone would have predicted Cannon Korrasami and immeadiately said “yup Asami’s gay straight women don’t dress like that”. Slacks, a collared long sleeve shirt, with a grey vest over top. Just like, amazing. I am so disappointed we never saw Asami wear this. Someone point me to a fanart of Asami in this outfit that canonically belongs to her please.

Guan arrives and Kuvira tries to talk to him, which goes about as well as you’d expect. So she tries to appeal directly to his troops and urges them to surrender, and they all say in unison “Hail Commander Guan!”. So Kuvira decides to challenge Guan and beats the crap out of him in a punch that looks like something directly out of a WWII propaganda poster or something.

Kuvira is literally about to kill him by bending the metal collar around his neck when suddenly Asami electrocutes her with some device she had hidden in the belt she gave Kuvira.

Once Mako and Bolin drag Kuvira away, Korra attempts to reason with Guan and tells him she won’t let him interfere with the election. Guan then reveals he has no intention of interfering- he plans on running in the election! He immediately turns in all the necessary paperwork to be on the ballot. He informs the Krew that soon, all the upcoming elections will have Earth Empire representatives running and once they have power in every territory, no one will question the Earth Empire's right to rule.

They reconvene back on the airship, where Kuvira is detained in the platinum box. They explain to Kuvira that she was wrong to provoke him, but right that he is an excellent strategist. Mako then tells Wu that he should just call off the election. Wu replies “Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around canceling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to see how this plays out”

…

Yes. “Mako, you know I love you”

…

We’ll discuss that at length in a bit.

They decide the best path forward is to find a new candidate who is popular enough to beat Guan. Korra excitedly suggests Toph. Which, like, wouldn’t have been the first person to come to mind for me, but I guess she’s the only person they know who is originally from Goaling? But everyone seems on board, except presumably Toph because she doesn't like to get involved in worldly affairs… So Korra announces they will just have to convince her!!

We then cut to Guan's encampment, where he is discussing Kuvira’s actions with a Doctor Sheng, observing that Kuvira just isn’t the same, and that the Avatar has corrupted her mind. The doctor suggests they “recalibrate” Kuvira’s mind and leads him into a structure where she shows him their latest “recruits'. We then see Goaling citizens tied up in chairs with devices on their heads. They are being brainwashed to vote for Guan! Yikes!

Mako and Wu Scenes

The Sauna scene

The meeting that took place in the sauna was at the behest of Wu. He said he was very stressed out so he couldn’t miss his steam bath. I know there are lots of jokes about Wu being high maintenance because he needs his spa days or whatever, but he is in a highly stressful situation right now and we know that self care is essential to maintain one’s mental health and in order to perform one’s job well. I think this was an interesting way to weave together his seemingly superficial hobbies with his new maturity and responsibility. I really loved this scene for that (though seeing all the hot people in sauna-wear is a bonus).

Also there is a recurring thing where Mako is just offering the worst advice to Korra. He wants the United Republic, a completely separate Nation from the Earth Kingdom, to just.. March into another country and ‘enforce’ their democratic process??? Like…. If you know anything about world history and current events we know that is awful and wouldn’t be received well and would be a recipe for political instability and long term conflict. Thank goodness everyone is like Mako no. I’m pointing this out because, as much as we think of Wu as being immature, irresponsible, whatever, the reality is that he has a level head while Mako is actually giving the irresponsible solutions here. It’s a really interesting evolution from the infamous Wu meltdown scene where Mako was the voice of reason, but here things have reversed.

Also, I want to point out the moment where Wu backs down after he adds his grievance to the list everyone is giving (She ruined my coordination!), it’s kind of played for laughs but like… Wu has a totally valid reason to be upset on par with everyone else, considering Kuvira had him drugged and kidnapped…. Why wouldn’t he have said that? Well, the simple and obvious answer is- the writers wanted to make a “Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking” joke. But since us fans like to give depths to the characters that they deserve, maybe Wu is genuinely traumatized and just doesn’t want to bring it up. And maybe everyone knows he’s traumatized and doesn't want to bring it up, because no one else is like “Wu, did you forget she had you drugged and kidnapped???” They just give him a look and he’s like “LOL oops sorry should have said my thing first!!” maybe Team Avatar understands that it was a really scary moment for him and they just let him shield himself with humor.

I know it isn’t isn’t exactly a strong Wuko moment, but the bitchy look that Moko, Bolin, Wu and Pabu give to Kuvira in the airship breathed life into me for some reason. I’m loving how they look like a group of mean girls who were just badmouthing Kuvira before she walked in. I think they were having a nice bonding moment before this.

Mako, you know I love you

Ok. So after Mako casually mentions just calling off the election, Wu flat out says “I love you” to Mako. This is a line us Wuko shippers just DIE for. The full line is as follows:

Mako: I say you call off the vote, at least for now. Make it impossible for Guan to win

Wu: Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around cancelling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to let this play out.

So. Like, what the heck are we supposed to make of this?

I’m not going to dig too deep and force my own interpretations and headcanons onto you. This I love you could mean a number of different things. I just want to pose some rhetorical questions about it and the context to give us all some things to think about.

Is Wu flirting? Does Mako actually know that Wu loves him? Is this an extension of Wu’s many other instances of flirting with complimenting Mako (on par with ‘my big tough guy” while staring at his ass)? Has Wu said “I love you” to Mako before? How many times has Wu said “Mako I love you” before? Is this evidence of them actually being in a romantic relationship during this comic? Or is it evidence of romantic tension building? Is Mako just totally oblivious to the fact that Wu said I love you? Or did he hear it and his brain blue-screened from the shock of being blatantly told I love you? Has Wu just gotten fed up that Mako seems oblivious to all his previous flirtations and he just decided to up the ante? Does Mako love Wu back?!

Lots of questions. Lots of interpretations. But (as far as I remember) Mako has only said I love you to two people- his brother and Korra (I don’t think he said I love you to Asami but I could be wrong). And if you’ve read this you know that Mako’s relationship with Wu is not brotherly. We’ve never heard “I love you” from Wu toward anyone else that I can recall so I don’t think he makes a habit of throwing the phrase around lightly. Also, worth noting: Literally no one reacts to the casual “I love you”. Everyone just goes on with the conversation at hand. The next frame that we see of Wu and Mako’s faces together, Mako is SMILING at Wu.

So like, he’s clearly not uncomfortable with being told that Wu loves him. And no one else is uncomfortable with it either. So what gives? Are they together? Are they flirting? Is everyone else just like “yup Wu said I love you Mako nothing out of the ordinary here because it’s painfully obvious Wu is into Mako, let's move on, nothing to see here”?

Wu and Korra

One thing I LOVE about these comics is the friendship between Korra and Wu. During the series, Korra tolerated Wu, warming up to him a bit at the very end when he told her his plan to abdicate. But through these comics there seems to be a comfortable familiarity between them. A bit of teasing, loads of moral support, and not a hint of her (or anyone) being super annoyed by him. He also doesn’t hit on her or anyone else except Mako, which is a very refreshing character growth because it was very tiresome to watch him objectify women in the animated series.

Korra and Wu spend a good amount of time together as she accompanies him to Gaoling’s city hall. They seem very comfortable with each other, comfortable enough that the writers included a fart joke.

Korra reassures Wu when he expresses worry about the election being pointless, she steps forward somewhat protectively when Guan shows up- the entire scene with Guan, Korra is standing between him and Wu.

Basically I bring this up because I genuinely love the idea that Korra and Wu are close and friendly, that they have moved on from his cringy behavior from the series (I like to think he apologized to both her and Asami?)

What this means for Wuko

If you are writing fic or just coming up with headcanon, there are two ways to look at the scenes. Either they are in a relationship, or they aren’t. You could easily just say they are in a relationship and are being quiet about it, because they aren’t ready to be fully public, or maybe because they are still figuring things out, or they are waiting for Wu to abdicate and move back to Republic City, etc. “You know I love you” is such an easy piece of canon content to make this your headcanon.

Likewise, one could say they are Not Together right now. Pre-relationship, if you will. Maybe they’ve danced around the idea, discussed feelings without actually getting together. Or maybe they are still clueless that there is a potential for a relationship. Wu might be putting out feelers to see how Mako responds to his flirtations. Mako might be wondering if he’s misinterpreting Wu’s affectionate touches and words. Lots of romantic tension, pining, each wondering if the other one has any feelings.

I also love the idea that Wu and Korra are friends and have discussed or will discuss Mako and Wu’s feelings for him.

So, in summary, Wu loves Mako. It’s canon. It’s right there in black and white. Make of it what you will!

Next post I will discuss Wuko in the first half of RotE Book 2. Wu goes on a life-changing field trip with Korra to meet Toph and confront a swamp-vision of his Late Great Aunt, while Mako gets captured and brainwashed by Guan. Wu and Mako are not together during these scenes but there will be lots of wonderful Wu backstory along with plenty of angst potential from the brainwashing storyline.

Wuko in Turf Wars

Wuko in RotE part 1

[vore-scientist]

Like A Good Neighbor (sfw safe vore)

[M/nb vore with fearplay. safe soft oral non-sexual]

A tale of the Mystic Woods! Featuring Yonah HaEsh and Myran the Dwarf Witch and many other fun characters!

A story of bad first impressions and making new friends! Lots of GT, and a cute little adventure at a magical farmer’s market!

Warning: Careful there are references to Fa.tal! An example would be “ogres are far more likely to eat smallfolk than giants!” (implying that said actions are deadly). That is the extent of such references!

Other warning: mild harm during the immediate post-vore scene. Yonah just goes a little too far in scaring Myran.

——/——////——

“Did you hear?”

“Have you been told?”

“A new resident!”

“I haven’t checked it out myself! But Ms Zukkar told me-”

“A wizard!”

“Didn’t there used to be an old sorcerer there?”

“-new guy’s a witch!”

“So, hear about that new giant!”

“A giant wouldn’t fit in that tower! And wizards is all human!”

“A criminal, on the run they say”

“Maybe a magician? They like towers sometimes!”

“His Majesty wouldn’t hire a criminal!”

“-supposed to be evil?”

There were so many rumors being flung around that the dwarf witch Myran Gamadin decided to see for themselves and set out to investigate. Undoubtedly there was a new resident. The story was that he was a Mage, and a criminal, but also just expelled from The Academy of Wizardry. And a giant? That was strange, the old tower was much too small for a giant! Even if it was magic it was only 10ft taller than your average giant in the first place. However… they did hear about the trial of a giant recently… stuff that happened in the civilized court didn’t really concern those in the Woods.

“Why would you go to see a villain? You’re not evil!”

The World’s Largest™ Maine Coon cat trotted alongside the handsome young dwarf, looking more like an oddly fluffy pony than a cat.

“It’s important to know your neighbors! Even the evil ones!”

Siv flicked his tail up into his witch’s face.

“And he’s got to be just a young man! So young and the expectations on evil mages is so high! He will appreciate a friendly face!” Myran had done the math. If this Mage hadn’t even graduated from The Academy, he was at most 23. Unless he started his education late. But they doubted this.

“Why are we walking! You have your broom!” the cat complained.

“That’s for the tower, Siv. It’s one of those designed by assholes who think it’s clever to have the only entrance be the window at the top.”

“Hrfff,” said Siv.

“Do you think he will appreciate the house-warming gift? I didn’t really spend much time on it…”

“Fresh fish would be better.”

“Maybe if he were a cat. This is for a Mage.”

“Clippings of magical plants? Maybe for another witch. This is someone who was studying Wizardry.”

“Wizards use magical plants too!”

“Yeah, they buy them from witches!”

As the pair stepped out of the trees, they froze.

“I think he’ll like the gift,” Siv admitted as he And Myran stood in awe at the largest magical garden either of them had ever seen.

It wasn’t even finished yet! Plots of earth were freshly turned, and piles of wood, half built into beds that lay in patterns across the clearing. And massively spread apart. At least 3 meters between plots. And the finished ones. Well. They already had some amazing specimens. Even if they were just sprouting. Myran noticed the Twisted WyrmFern and harpy’s breath; delicate, but common magical plants that were being used to test out the soil. It was working great.

The garden did make Myran worry a bit.

Maybe this wasn’t a wizard at all! It could be a witch. And he could be very evil indeed. Even evil witches treated their gardens with the utmost care and attention.

But they had come this far. And the tower that looked over the garden was calling to them. Well. Not really. The green-black thorny vines screamed “STAY AWAY!” But when one had a flying broomstick, one didn’t need to heed such warnings.

Flipping their broom around like a baton, they sat side saddle and Siv hopped on the end, somehow managing to balance his prodigious fluff. They took off. And flew into the window.

“WOAAAHHH!”

It was like hitting an unexpected and large wave on a boogie board, but a magical one that flowed through the body! And Myran had never been to the ocean, so it made their brain swim.

The room, which from the outside looked normal, was anything but. The rumors of this being a giant were not just rumors.

This place was HUGE!

And yet, it was much too small.

Growing up, Myran had visited some giant villages with their family. They hadn’t been THAT much smaller then, but the houses and items in the village were definitely much larger. While giant mages certainly existed, they had their own traditions and made their own supplies.

This looked exactly like the workshop for a young wizard, with additions for the wizard being a giant. It was wild to see some of the common arcane tools at such an immense scale.

Flying over, Myran saw that the resident Mage had an ancient book under a magnifying glass, and had been translating it, with notes and commentary. Spell equations and diagrams were additionally copied in a dedicated smaller notebook.

While it was surely a fascinating read, they could tell at a glance the notes were somewhere in the middle of an involved spell, and they didn’t want to be the reason the Mage lost his place. The workbench had plenty of other diverting materials.

Siv had no interest in such things and curled up against the base of the magnifying glass. The sun hit the metal through the window, making it quite warm.

Myran put their broom down and explored the desk. There were several magical tombs! Rare ones! They flipped through and saw fresh handwritten notes tucked inside. Smart, this mage did not want to tarnish the original pages. There was also an open notebook and a few spell components laid out.

They stepped carefully back onto the notebook to get a better idea of what this wizard was up to. The notebook was written in giant, which Myran wasn’t fluent in but got the gist of. So this was indeed a giant wizard. Fascinating.

That’s what they were thinking until...

FEE FI FO FUM!

Myran nearly jumped out of their boots.

No longer fascinating. Very bad. Very dangerous! They’d heard stories that quoted these lines, classic, even amusing. However, hearing them bellowed by an actual giant nearly stopped their heart. These words were so loud and so immediately panic-inducing, especially when accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE-

There was a pause and maybe a stutter

DWARVEN KIND!

The trap door off center in the room burst open and a giant with a mane of black hair, a trimmed goatee, and a wizard’s hat, climbed out. He was smiling, snarling, showing off impressive fangs.

USELESS TO FLEE, USELESS TO FIGHT, FOR YOU WILL BE MY MEAL TONIGHT!

Eat them!? Oh No. Myran scrambled to their feet as the giant advanced.

Siv had gone catatonic, or nearly, and fled behind the mirror. But Myran just stood there. The next thing they knew, they were in the giant's fist… AND THEN IN ITS MOUTH! There was a brief moment where they thought the giant was going to bite them in half… but no. Worse than that, the giant fulfilled his promise to make a meal of Myran by swallowing them whole.

Never had Myran imagined themselves in this predicament. Witches, as far as they knew, were not prone to being eaten by giants! Giants ate thieves, slayers, adventurers! Though... giants were known to occasionally eat random people that happened to be rude to them as they went about their business.

Myran had not been rude! They just hadn’t had a chance to be polite! This giant had no business eating them.

Not that any of this was actually going through Myran’s mind. Oh no. Myran’s thoughts were preoccupied with panicking about their impending doom!

First, they tried to stop the giant from swallowing. But the teeth threatened to crunch their limbs if they dared to try and find purchase! So, failing that, they tried to slow their progress down his esophagus.

The problem was the walls were too damn slippery! They knew that their slow progress was merely due to the tight fit, as they couldn’t stretch out. The flesh was too tough.

Right before they started to worry about suffocating, they were deposited into a large chamber, sliding into a puddle of nasty smelling fluid. They took a regretful breath of the rancid air.

Yonah sighed as the dwarf left his throat and settled into his stomach. Small yet still filling.

He patted his stomach lightly. “A bit disappointing. Dwarves don’t taste nearly as good as most other smallfolk, but I’m not complaining.” His prey thrashed and yelled but didn’t seem to be coherent.

YEOWCH!

Something bit his hand and he waved it violently. Whatever it was released and smacked into the wall that the desk was up against, crumpled into a motionless pile. Curious and momentarily forgetting his snack, Yonah investigated.

A cat!? And still alive but unconscious. Why had a cat attacked him? Then he saw the abandoned broom next to his notebook. And his stomach twisted.

“You’re— not a thief!” Technically, he could eat anyone he wanted, he wasn’t restricted to adventurers. He was still figuring out what kind of villain he wanted to be. Such self exploration would take time, time the person he ate didn’t have.

“I’m a witch!” He heard them squeak.

“A witch? Invading the lair of a wizard? Are you stupid!” He poked at them. They didn’t like that.

“Let me out!!”

So Yonah spat them up, sooner than he would have liked to, and leaned over them with a frown and glowing eyes.

The moment the witch hit the desk, the cat woke up and was between him and the witch as it hissed.

The witch was shaking and coughing, glancing at him with wide fearful eyes.

“If you’re a witch then what the fuck were you doing in my tower?” Yonah demanded.

The witch was still in shock but recovered enough to speak. “I’m… Myran! I wanted to introduce myself!”

“A likely story! Why would anyone want to introduce themselves to me?” Yonah wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, but figured he could use the practice at evil banter.

“You’re… new to the forest” they coughed.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m your neighbor!” they said,

Yonah narrowed his eyes, “The forest is constantly moving, no such thing as neighbors.”

“I figured I’d try to be friendly!” they continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Everyone was talking about the new mage in the tower, but no one had any definitive stories.”

Another mistake. The giant snarled.

“You are a fool then! I don’t want any friends!” He hesitated briefly as he said it, not sure of the truth, but recovered fast. “But I don’t want you spreading rumors about my mercy either…” he picked them back up. Gripping them hard and getting their right arm between his teeth. He didn’t bite their arm off, but broke the skin with a fang and pinched their hand. They yelled.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t tell! I won’t tell!”

He dropped them and they sat, crying, holding their bleeding arm and hand which was turning a plum purple.

“Good,” he hissed steam in their face, scalding the skin red as his eyes glowed bright orange. “Now get the fuck out before I eat you for real!” He flicked the broom at them. “And if you ever show your face around here again, I will.”

Finally, they listened to him. They got onto the broom along with their cat and with a burst of magic kicked into the air and fled out the window. Yonah watched until they disappeared, then sat down. His hair hadn’t been smoking before but it was now. Additionally, his eyes still glowed.

His first visitor in months wasn't an adventurer and he’d eaten them without a second thought! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Maybe this was his destiny. For years he’d trained himself to be restrained. Keep his anger in check, Keep his half giant identity a secret and become a wizard. But that had all gone to shit when he’d been discovered not as just a half giant, but as a half fire witch. Chased out of the academy but captured by the authorities of Orr.

Forced to sign a contract with King Ben to become his new pet monster! So why not be a monster!?

But he still wanted friends… his friends from the academy weren’t allowed to visit him. His tower of magic and wonder was so empty. He put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

~chink~ his elbow brushed against something.

He looked down and saw a broken clay pot, the soup spilling out and a seedling now helpless and exposed on the desk.

Quickly yonah dipped his fingers into a pouch at his side and licked it, saying a spell. With a puff of smoke he stood on his desk, a mere 8ft tall, and he knelt down.

With his more appropriately sized hands he gathered the soil and with a wave of his hand and another mutter the pieces of the pot shook and flew back into their original places. The pot was… functionally repaired. The proper repair spell required materials to fuse the pieces properly. So it wouldn’t hold water, but it could hold soil.

As he scooped it back in, a piece of paper fell from the loose soil. Curious he dug it back out of the pot and cleaned it off enough to read:

“Welcome to the Mystical Woodlands new neighbor! This seedling is from my own garden. A special cultivation of Frozen Thyme.”

The moment he read it he was instantly planning where this would go in his garden. But… this gift. Did he deserve it? He’d eaten the one who brought it. He chased them away!

He couldn’t accept this gift but he couldn’t just let the seedling wither and die. It didn’t deserve that. And thus, his brain rationalized a way for him to keep the gift. So now what?

Yonah’s brain was too full of rage to do any proper work, so he decided to take it out on the garden, which was still in a state of construction. He’d already torn up old dead pieces of the overgrown mess left behind by the predecessor. Now he was digging spots for flower beds and what would hopefully be an orchard. There was even a designated spot for herbs.

The reason this was slow going was he refused to use magic. For the most part. Thankfully, being giant made digging and construction easier. Now that he had the thyme, he prioritized the herb beds. It was with a sour pride that he completed one as the sun started to go down.

A large wooden box that curved in a lovely arc close to the tower. The wood was specially imported from his The Blue Sky Mountain Giants Tribe in the Implausible Mountains, the smell of it reminding him of home. The frozen thyme seedling was given enough space to grow. He even gave it some friends that he knew would be compatible.

With his mind a little more at ease, he managed to get himself to sleep.

And awoke the next morning with an ache in his heart and a new plan in his brain.

For the first time since he arrived in this prison of a forest, he ventured beyond the boundaries of his clearing. Yonah knew he was allowed, a certain distance from his tower, to walk the forest. It had just seemed pointless. Not wanting to draw too much attention, he wore his gardening outfit: a pink plaid button up and light blue overalls. He had a straw hat that he recently wove to be a wizard hat, as well as his wizard staff. He couldn’t really leave that behind.

The trees in the forest were shorter than back home, but still very large. Thankfully he didn't have to duck so much to avoid branches. In his mind was a list of ingredients he needed to find. Foraging in the forest might seem like a fruitless endeavor, but when you have the keen nose of a giant, tracking down wildberries was a simple feat.

What a bounty! A huge patch of bramble with perfectly ripe berries. He didn’t need a giant’s amount and they would just get squashed if he tried to pick them at his normal size so once again he shrank down. He retrieved a basket from his hat and started to pick berries.

About ten minutes in, the bush began to shift! A section opened up and out ran a gnome with a garden spade. It smacked into his hand mid berry pick.

“Stop! Thief!”

SMACK SMACK!

Yonah was so startled he backed away and returned to his normal size, the basket of berries spilling over.

The gnome yelped. “Giant!” They dropped the spade. “Don’t eat me! Take berries! Don’t eat me or family!”

There was something satisfying about the gnome’s fear and Yonah grinned, “While you would make for a nice little snack,” he said, “I’m not in the mood for gnome today.”

The gnome shook and took up the spade again, pointing it at him as if that would help. From inside the bushes, Yonah heard rustling, and smelled more gnomes. This must cover their burrow.

“Put that away, or I might change my mind!” Yonah growled, showing his fangs. The gnome complied, tossing it aside.

“But you are also in luck. I am not interested in being a berry thief. I have more honor than that. If you would permit me to buy some of your berries, at a discount for me not making a meal of you and your family, I will leave you in peace”

The gnome gulped and nodded, “Am… sure we can make a deal.”

“Pick up the ones I already picked, will you?” Yonah ordered.

The gnome scrambled. “You will need more?”

Yonah nodded. The gnome whistled. And a troupe of younger gnomes carefully came out of the bramble.

“Kind giant has offered to buy some berries. Exchange for not eating us!”

The kids looked nervous and their fear didn’t spark the same kind of joy as the adults. But Yonah had a reputation to build! And he had to admit, it was still a bit fun.

He watched as the gnomes gathered berries until the basket was full and the adult gnome put it down in front of where Yonah had sat down. He picked it up and took off his hat, dropping it in and noticed the gnome’s eyes get wide. Storage space items were not uncommon, but storage hats were tools of professional mages, not common folk.

“That all?” the gnome asked.

Yonah stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Yes. I think so.” He reached into this hat. While he didn’t have a lot of money, Ben had supplied him with funds should he need them, and he had distributed the rings between his various pocket spaces. He got out a large wooden dowel upon which hung many metal rings. Small ones and large ones. With a pair of tweezers, yonah removed a few silver rings and one gold ring and put them into his palm, placing it up in front of the gnome.

Who did not take it.

“Do not insult me by refusing my payment,” Yonah insisted but the gnome did not move.

“More than we charge normally… You wanted discount: berries, a silver a pound!”

Yonah blinked. He still wasn’t good with smallfolk money. When purchasing as a giant, you purchased such large amounts it always cost at least a gold.

“Oh? Er-” he didn’t want to actually exploit these gnomes. “I'm not taking it back! Take the money Or I’ll eat you!” his voice faltered and the gnomes looked a little confused, and a little more relaxed.

“Leave us alone then, yes?” The gnome reached out a hand. Yonah nodded. The gnome finally took the money, giving each of the kids a silver ring. Any fear the kids had was gone as soon as they studied their rings and looked at Yonah with excitement. It was hard not to let the warmth in his heart at their expressions show on his own face.

“Actually!” Yonah announced as the gnomes started to back away into their burrow.

The adult stopped and looked nervous again. Yonah huffed. “I’m not going to eat you, I never was. I just have a question.”

The gnome ushered the kids away, not trusting Yonah, before turning back to the giant. “And if don’t have a good answer, you won’t eat… right?”

With a sigh Yonah shook his head, “No. I won't.”

“Then ask.”

Yonah took a breath, “I am... looking to get some ingredients. I… lashed out at someone recently and I very much regret it, and want to make some amends. I have giant ones back home but… giant sized ingredients do not taste as strong as small ones. Do you know where, or who, I might be able to look for?”

The gnome smiles, “Yes! Mystical Market. Sell our berries there. Open today, also gnome holiday.” They gave Yonah the instructions on how to find the market.

“Thank you- er…” Yonah put a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Kalle” said Kalle.

“Yonah,” said Yonah. The gnome bowed as well, “Don’t be flaunting riches, mysterious half giant. Marketeers take advantage”

Riches!? He did not have endless funds. He would have to be more careful with his spending.

“I am also looking for… Er... Shit!” he exclaimed and was glad the kids were no longer outside, “I don't know their name. Dwarf witch.”

Kalle considered, “Know them. Likes almond cookies. Sorry. Market easier find than people. That all?”

From their tone of voice, Yonah knew the gnome desperately wanted to get back to their family. It was a holiday after all. Yonah stood up and nodded, leaving without subjecting them to any more conversation.

Almond cookies? That changed things. He had only made almond cookies once! He needed a little more help. However, he did not backtrack to the tower. He knew that if he went back, he would lose motivation. Locating the market was his current task.

Unfortunately, it took some luck. According to the gnome, it was a special place that one happened to come across, just by wanting to be there. The more familiar you were with it, the better chance there was of that happening. Yonah really really wanted to be there. So he gathered his will and set off in a random direction.

After an hour of walking yonah felt a weird tingle all over his arms and legs. Like his hair was standing on end and all pointing in the same direction. Had he entered some magical field? No matter, he was fairly immune to passive magic.

Then he took another step and a jolt of magic electricity surged through his body, causing him to freeze up. Before he could collapse, he felt as if a giant hook had caught around his middle. There was no physical hook, but it still yanked him back, pulling in through the forest.

Eventually it stopped and finally Yonah fell over, breathing shallowly as his heart raced. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the trees.

“What’s the big idea!?” Someone kicked him in the side and he sat up. “You’re blocking the way!”

An elf!

Yonah frowned. “You’re so bold for someone I could crush with a finger!” To tease the elf, he poked them in the chest.

“YEOWCH!”

For the second time that day, Yonah got bitten. This time, it was the elf who sank their fangs into his finger, letting go before Yonah pulled away.

“Don’t get sassy with me! Messing with smallfolk isn’t allowed in the market, you'll be banned!”

Yonah looked around “The market?”

He had assumed it was the Mystical Market because it was in the Mystical Woodlands. But now he realized that the name was rather accurate. An entire marketplace incorporated into the forest itself. Stalls and restaurants built into the trees, with carts parked in between. The trees here were also… there was no other word for it: majestic. Larger and older and, compared to the forest he had been exploring before, more deliberate spacing. He couldn’t even see all of it. The forest stretched on for a while, and thus was obscured by the very trees that made up the shops.

There were even buildings in the branches so that ogres, trolls, and giants did not have to bend down to make transactions. He even spotted a few trolls. Amazing! Trolls (and ogres) were much more likely than giants to eat smallfolk. Giants mostly threatened unless the person in question did something really, really stupid.

And yet, there was a troll, large with brown fur and green spots, purchasing a roll of fabric from the elevated section of a gnome shop.

“Yes you idiot, the market! And my cart won't fit through any other path! Move your giant ass or I’ll get the guard to move it for you!”

His elation at having found the market was in conflict with his pride that was being so insulted by this little creature.

“Apologize for biting me, and I’ll consider it!”

The elf looked indignant. “You threatened to squash me! MAGEN!!” they yelled.

Thunderous footsteps were heard and Yonah turned as a proper, full blooded giant, made her way through the shoppers, somehow avoiding stepping on anyone. She was maybe 17, but full grown and taller than Yonah by at least ten feet. Her skin was a light greyish pink and her eyes were a dark red. She wore a lovely headpiece of woven flowers and vines to look like hair, which full giants do not have.

She knelt “This man bothering you?”

The elf nodded. Yonah threw his hands up, “Hey! I don’t mean any trouble!”

“He threatened to squash me!”

The giant glared at Yonah, who glared back.

“How largefolk deal with smalls outside of the market is their own business,” she said. “But inside the market we do not even threaten to squash, or kick, or stomp, or eat!”

“I did not intend to and I did not know I was in the market! I have never been before!” Yonah stood up so that he was not at such an extreme height disadvantage. Magen was a rather short mountain giant, only 35ft tall.

She nodded, “I can believe that.” She stood up. “I would have remembered you for sure.” She sniffed and said in implausible Giant: “You are from the blue sky tribe?”

“Yes! I am.” he answered, also in Giant. “I just moved to the forest. I was looking for the market but… I must have… hit something magic. I sort of fell into here”.

The elf took the opportunity to weave their cart around the giants’ feet, disappearing into the market.

“Ah, the seller seems to no longer push this issue. My name is Magen.” she introduced, bowing.

“Yonah HaEsh,” Yonah answered in return.

“HaEsh! I know the name. Fire man who helped save the Implausible Mountains from the Society of Wizards!”

“That’s my dad,” Yonah said, a little embarrassed.

“Mom told me the story! How exciting!”

Yonah brushed himself off and glanced around, “So... What are the rules here, then?”

Magen shrugged, “Just don’t start fights, alright? All sales are final, so don't go making a fuss if you haggled wrong or think you got cheated unless you believe your items are defective. There are ways to deal with fraudulent goods, but we cannot risk collateral damage.”

“Does that happen often?” Yonah asked, “I only mean to buy food, I can tell if that’s fresh”

“Oh, you have a giant’s nose then. Good. It does not happen often. Makes my job easier. And I usually manage to break up confrontations before they get out of hand.”

Knowing he could likely sniff out the stalls he needed, Yonah asked if Magen could show him around and help him find all the items on his list. She happily agreed. He had to walk behind her as there wasn’t room for two giants to be side by side.

As she carefully led him, she took glances back and down Yonah who was getting a little nervous. It had been a while since he encountered other giants. He was watching his feet to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone, and he was stopping constantly to look into the shops and stalls and carts.

“What is it like, being half giant?” Magen asked, who somehow managed to walk without looking at her feet very often at all. Maybe Yonah was being too careful and people here knew to stay out of the way of largefolk's feet… Still, he didn't want to take chances.

“Er… I have hair, I guess?” he said.

“I was wondering if that was natural or a wig.” Magen brushed the vines spilling from her head.

“But mostly, things were just a bit inconveniently large for me. I still managed.” Then he countered. “What’s it like being a guard in the market?”

“The shopkeepers pool money to have me stand around, mostly. Smallfolk behave when an angry giant is within earshot.” She grinned with all her fangs.

“I thought you said giants couldnt mess with smallfolk here?” Yonah inquired.

“You can’t. It’s my job to interfere,” Magen retorted. “I haven't hurt anyone… badly. I’ve only worked here for a year. But I know everyone and everyone knows me!”

They stopped at a stand selling nuts and Yonah purchased the almonds he needed. The seller seemed a bit disappointed that he bought so few.

“Shopping for someone small?” Magen asked.

“Er- yeah.” Yonah said. They both had to back between trees to let a trio of trolls go by. One was only 10 feet tall and barely came up to Yonah’s waist, but another was nearly 20 feet! They carried baskets and bags on their furry backs, and even had some tied to their tusks!

Before they continued, two elves leapt from the tree nearby and onto Yonah’s shoulders! He was about to brush them off when Magen stopped him.

“Don’t! They are just hitching rides!” At that, he spotted more elves on her head. “You need honey, yes? I know the best shop!”

He followed Magen around the market, which was much larger than he had realized. The elves had no qualms about leaping on and off him and other largefolk shoppers and eventually he ignored them. Magen even helped him avoid making a bad deal for oat flour, saying she couldn’t believe the nerve of the shopkeeper trying to take advantage of a new resident.

Before Yonah left, he wanted to properly thank Magen. “If there is anything I can do to show thanks. Perhaps er-” he looked around.

“You know, the juice stand behind that tree has new flavors I’ve wanted to try. How about you buy me a drink? You should get one too. It’s very refreshing!”

“They make them giant sized?” Yonah asked.

“Oh, they are made by ogres!” Magen replied, rounding the indicated tree.

Ogres, kin of trolls and even more dangerous due to their magical powers. Typically smaller than trolls, but that was not the way to tell them apart.

An entire family of ogres were operating a massive open storefront. Jugs hung from branches or were strapped to the trunks of trees and fruit swung in baskets. Behind the counter was an elaborate prep station operated by two large ogres. Around the entire display were platforms sticking out from the nearby trees. Smallfolk sat on stools enjoying drinks and food at an elevation that made it easy to be served by the ogres. Magen walked up to the counter, which was not at an ideal height for her but was easily manageable. She spoke to an ogre with straw colored fur, blue spots, and large horns.

“Edna! I’d like two passion fruit smoothies please! One giant sized and one…” She glanced back at Yonah. “Full Troll sized!” She stepped aside and pointed at Yonah. “He’s paying”

Edna nodded and passed on the order.

Yonah stepped forward. Bowing “Yonah HaEsh”. She bowed back, “Edna Baneclaw. That will be a gold bracelet for the giant and half for the full troll”

Yonah’s heart nearly stopped. A gold bracelet and a half !? He looked at Magen who flashed her fangs mischievously then back at Enda.

Edna smiled as well. “We don’t have enlarged passion fruit, not in high demand by largefolk.”

With another glare at Magen, Yonah fished into his hat. He didn’t have gold bracelets but he had rings. 10 silver to a gold. Rings to Rings. Bracelets to Bracelets… 10 gold rings to a silver bracelet… 10 silver bracelets to a gold ring. That’s 100 gold rings to a gold bracelet (he had really overpaid the gnomes for the berries... A holiday gift he supposed), but this was not money to spend on frivolous fruit drinks!

Too late, however. The drinks were ready, and he carefully removed golden rings from silver bracelets. 50 gold rings and 10 silver bracelets exchanged for two smoothies. They came in wooden cups with bamboo straws.

This better be fucking worth it. Yonah took a sip.

His eyes widened as the cool icy tart concoction hit his taste buds and he took a long drink. Finally, he looked at Magen and then Edna. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed. Magen grinned and sipped hers as well. “Yeah. Too bad we’re the last two to have some for at least a month!”

“What do you mean?”

“That took all the passion fruit we had,” Edna informed. “Won't get more for a while”

“Worth it! Suck it smallfolk!” Magen teased the people on the platforms, a few looked a bit annoyed, but most didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to care either.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Yonah. I hope to see you again. Oh, and by the way, you can return your mug to the ogres for a silver bracelet, even if you take it home today!”

Yonah glanced at his drink. “Oh! Thanks for letting me know. But where are you going?”

Magen sipped at her smoothie loudly before answering. “This was my break, silly, I need to go back on proper duty now, and you have all your things.” Magen held out her free hand and Yonah shook it, bidding her goodbye. It was getting late in the day now and he wanted to get to work on the almond cookies.

Wait… which way was back to the tower? How could he be so stupid wandering off like this!? His mom taught him better than that. Forest ranger rule number 1: DON’T GET LOST. ...okay, so that wasn’t really a rule. It was supposed to imply that you paid attention to where you were going so you could get back. This was not so easy in the Mystic Woods.

The moment he had walked far enough away from the market, he turned forward and then back, and it was already gone. He had nowhere to go but forward.

It was to his great surprise that only a minute later, he exited the dense trees and found himself in the clearing. The tower was on the opposite side. While he was elated to have made it back safely before dark, there was a distinct absence of any gladness to be home. This was not his home, after all. It was his prison.

Yonah HaEsh climbed up the tower and back into his prison. He took off his hat and sat down at his desk in the workshop, staring into the reflection on the large, ornate mirror that rested upon it.

To do this right, he needed help. Professional help. So he activated his mirror. Or at least… tried. He stared at his own reflection, then spoke. “Mirror Mirror on the desk,” he faltered, “Could you please connect me to Shoshana at the academy?”

The mirror snorted. “You think politeness will work after all this time? I don’t make exceptions. This is why your friends think you’ve forgotten about them! Put in the effort! Ask me properly or don't at all.”

“They’ve called me!!” Yonah insisted, but the mirror said nothing in response. Just like he would do when he got calls from his friends. Yonah growled and snorted back at the mirror, fogging it up. “Mirror Mirror, oh magical vanity, I wish to call Shoshana, at the wizard academy”

There was a whistle from the mirror. “Now that’s how you do it!” it praised. The fog cleared and for a brief moment, he saw his own face again before the reflective surface turned grey. Another moment and the face of his friend Shoshana emerged.

“Yonah!!!” she exclaimed. “You called! I cannot believe it!”

Yonah’s face turned a bit red. “I’ve… been distracted.”

Shoshana waved her hand, stopping any further excuses. “You’ve been through so much! I was worried! Since we graduated, you haven't called at all!”

/I never called before either... / Yonah thought. /It was always you.../ When Grand Master Sean reinstated him as a wizardling student, his friends would call regularly to work on homework and their theses, as he wasn’t allowed to actually attend the school in person. And while he attended the graduation…

That wasn’t a happy memory at all and he didn’t want to think about how he sat behind all the students in the amphitheater in magic chains looking more like a beast one of the adventuring tract students had wrangled for their final than a student.

“I need a recipe!” he said.

Shoshana raised her brows “That’s it!? First call in over a month, and it’s to get a recipe! You don’t want to catch up at all?!” Yonah’s eyes flickered and Shoshana backed off. “Alright, I can see you’re not in the mood. But please, we’re all missing you so much. We’d assumed you embraced the evil hermit wizard life.”

“I… haven’t meant to. But it’s surprisingly easy,” he admitted, grinning awkwardly. “I’d rather not go full hermit, of course.”

“Well, then dont go a month without calling your friends!” Shoshana chided. “Or make some new friends! The forest is full of interesting people, right?”

Yonah looked away, but his eyes were probably glowing orange now.

“This… is for that.”

“Oh!” Shoshana exclaimed, “I should have figured! Of course, I will give you whatever recipe you’d like.”

Yonah got out his ingredients to show Shoshana and explained what he wanted to bake. She nodded and made some suggestions for ingredients and spices to really make these cookies great. He did not have all the supplies she suggested, which led to some back-and-forth as Shoshana pointed out some substitutions for what Yonah bought or already had in his tower.

“Got that all down?” she asked, as she watched Yonah scribble out the final lines to the recipe.

“Yes!” Yonah exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Shosh!”

“Next time, we will catch up properly, but I had fun designing this recipe!” Shoshana chirped. “What a challenge. I wish you had called first, before just buying random ingredients.”

“I was already in the forest, Shosh.”

“I know, I know.” Shoshana blew Yonah a kiss and the mirror flickered back to his reflection.

It was time to bake! Which he did after shrinking down.

By the time he was done baking his jam print almond cookies, it was past midnight. He needed sleep and didn't think finding the witch at night was a particularly wise idea, especially since he was getting tired. That meant he was extra likely to be grumpy and irritable. So he placed the cookies in a special cooling rack to keep them magically fresh, then went to bed.

It was right after breakfast that Yonah HaEsh left the tower and, for the second time, entered the forest.

Once again, he had no direction, not that one could in the Mystic Woods. It wasn't even possible to have a map unless it was incredibly magical. Still, he was determined and willing to wander the forest for days if he must! But he’d do so at his full size, which would allow him to cover more ground.

That’s… That’s a witch’s hut! He hoped it was the correct one. It was more of a mound than a hut, with one side covered in rocks and moss and the other a more sheer side with windows, plus a flatter side with a door.

As he approached, a garden came into view and he heard a yelp before watching a small figure dart into the hut and close the curtains. The door opened briefly and a hand hung a sign that read “NO SOLICITORS”

That was the evil giant! Why was he here!? Why did the forest let him find the hut!? Was he here to eat them?! To finish the job!? Could they take on a giant fire witch?! Myran was a damn skilled witch, and at least 15 years the giant’s senior by their estimate, but they were quaking in their boots.

A knock sounded at their door. It didn’t sound forceful enough to be a giant. Siv was in front of them, hissing at the door. Thinking it better to be safe, they peeked out the window, then ran to open the door. Just a crack.

Red faced and holding a basket was… the giant. Only he wasn’t giant. Not exactly. He now stood at about twice Myran’s height. A little less actually. Right. Wizard. Giant wizard.

“May I come in?”

“Depends… what’s in the basket?” They narrowed their eyes. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

The wizard’s face got redder as he removed the cover. They opened the door and stood aside. They took the basket with their right hand… Yonah hesitated. Their arm had a massive scar from shoulder to elbow, but the hand was unbroken. The Dwarf noticed and gave him a hard look as he crouched low to get through the dwarf sized door, Siv still hissing at him in warning.

Myran put the basket on the kitchen table and motioned to the couch. “Please, sit.” Yonah did. The couch was small for him but it took his weight. “I’m going to be honest.” Myran leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms. “This is quite the unexpected visit.”

“Oh?” Yonah said. Of course, it made sense. He chased them out. Why would he then try to find them again?

“You bit me!” Myran reminded him harshly. “You broke my hand, and you said if you saw me again, you would eat me. Again. And kill me.”

/Ohhhh/

Yonah’s breath caught before managing to say. “I did… didn’t I?” He looked down at his feet.

Myran. sighed. “Yep. Though eating me at your current size would be an impressive feat. So... What the fuck are you doing here? Besides bringing me cookies to fatten me up.”

“I’m not-!” He looked back up to defend himself and saw their cheeky grin. “I didn’t come here to eat you…” They raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief. “I want to apologize. For what I said… What I did. After I ate you. I was so angry. I still am, though mostly at myself. I shouldn't have hurt you. It wasn’t right.” He was almost crying. Dammit, he’d gone nearly a month without crying!

“And for eating me?”

“Huh?” Yonah was thoroughly confused.

“You’re sorry for what happened after you ate me, but what about eating me?”

Yonah bit his lip, “I’m… I’m not sorry about that.”

The witch raised both eyebrows now, genuinely curious as to the workings of this monster’s thoughts.

“I’m supposed to eat people! Especially those who enter my tower unannounced. It’s part of my job! And… And I like it!” He startled himself with that statement. He liked his job? He didn’t even want this job!! He was forcefully employed by the King under threat of death! Being evil had never been his plan and he didn’t want that. Did he?

The witch didn’t look completely satisfied with this answer. But they didn’t get to inquire further as Yonah’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Er- your hand…”

Myran smiled “It was rather mangled by your jaws yesterday. Luckily, I am a very good healer, and well-known in this forest. If you had killed me, you would have had a lot of angry forest residents after your head.” Myran began preparing a pot of tea as Yonah Processed that statement. “You’re a lucky giant aren’t you?”

“What?” Yonah voiced. “For not killing you and putting a target on my back?”

“Yes, exactly. And that was curious. It is rare that evil giants are merciful.”

Yonah looked away, “I’ve only been evil for a few months. I… you’re the third person I’ve eaten at all. And I dont… I haven’t yet… killed anyone.”

That surprised Myran. “I guess I do not know the frequency that giants normally encounter adventurers… but what I meant was you’re lucky that you even get to eat people. Most giants like the taste of smallfolk but they don't actually eat them. It’s rather rare.”

“You said it yourself. Evil Giants eat people,” Yonah pointed out. “Which I am one. I guess it’s… nice that I get to eat folks. But it comes with a cost… It’s only a matter of time before slayers come after me.”

“Most evil giants kill their victims, right?” Myran asked.

Yonah shrugged “I met another one once. Said it depended on his mood.”

“Fascinating… though if you keep up your more merciful streak, perhaps you are less likely to attract slayers?”

“Perhaps…” Yonah had not considered that. He just felt he wasn’t ready to kill anyone yet, but maybe there were other perks than just a clear conscience in continuing to let his snacks go.

“Cracked some sort of code then?” Myran inquired. “Getting to eat people without attracting too much attention? Not that this would stop all slayers,” they added. “I expect you would kill a slayer?”

Yonah nodded, sniffed, and wiped his nose. In that case… Guess he was lucky. Indeed, he’d gotten to taste plenty of smallfolk. Plenty of giants did. It was unique that he’d had his human dad while growing up. But all of the smallfolk in the village knew that when giants kissed their hands, the giants were getting little tastes. Sometimes giants would lick a friend playfully or freak someone out. He’d had a few elvish and human friends growing up, and they sometimes let him and the other giant kids lick them during games of Jacks and Giants. And his academy friends were quite amused by his affections. He very much missed them. It had not taken long for him to get used to living amongst human friends, not just because he got to taste them. And so quickly, that was taken away from him. Friends…

As tears welled in his eyes he couldn’t look at Myran any longer. He closed his eyes and turned his face away. Should he keep talking? Shit, how much of that had he said out loud!? The words continued to come out regardless.

“I know I said I didn’t want any friends. But I do! I need them. And I know I can’t be your friend. You came to me and I fucked it up. But I beseech you to not tell everyone else in the forest to avoid me. I already went to the mystical market and-“

“You… how did you find out that I liked almonds!”

Yonah looked up. They weren’t looking at him but reaching into the basket for another cookie. They munched on it thoughtfully, not a crumb falling into their beard. The tea was ready and Myran poured it with magic, leaving their hands free to hold more cookies. They walked over to Yonah, the tea cups floating with. He took the larger one out of mid air. It was very hot! And he drank. It was… It tasted like tea he’d had at home. His village had alway gotten various teas from the dwarves. New tears came to his eyes.

“You alright?” Myran asked, offering a handkerchief. “You’re a very emotional evil giant.”

Yonah took it and dried his eyes. “The tea is… really good.” That wasn’t the real reason but right now he couldn’t process all of his emotions.

“It’s my grandma’s blend,” Myran said. “I’ve tried to replicate it using my garden, but you just can’t replicate those tunnel grown fungi.”

They dipped one of the cookies into the tea. From their expression, it wasn’t really a mistake but likely didn’t improve the experience. Still they munched thoughtfully.

“I’ll be your friend.”

Yonah’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he almost dropped his tea. It was a few seconds before he managed to pick his jaw back up. Were they serious? They walked over to him, placing their much smaller hand over one of his. Then they smiled most disarmingly.

“Just don’t eat me again.”

Yonah smiled.

“I think I can manage that”

[FIN]

——

(You can imagine that Yonah got to hug Myran before he left, probably a little too tight but dwarves are tough!)

THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED MY STORY!

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big thanks to my amazing editors @j0hnnymouse and @vixen525

[liminalhymnal]

How about Trish and hmmm Fugo?

Trish:

• Picky about skincare and other beauty products because she has contact dermatitis, she inherited it from her dad, and as such always keeps moisturizer on her for constant dry skin. It's fragrance free of course but she wishes it could smell like nice like French Lavender & Honey.

• Is always a present and highly-welcomed member at the weekly Boy's Night despite not directly getting involved in the stupider antics of Mista & Narancia. Eggs them on, might do some pranks, definitely partakes in the snacks, but mostly is there to have a good time and laugh without feeling the need to be prim and proper. Just think of that one vine where the girl does a sick vape trick at a party and the guy goes Wrow

• Has a fondness for birds. Wouldn't consider keeping one as she'd worry about giving it the proper care it needs, and she'd feel bad if it couldn't be free to fly because damn if she doesn't feel empathetic towards that, but loves to birdwatch. Loves songbirds the most and has a habit of picking up any cool feathers she finds to keep them and turn them into jewelry for herself.

• Could ABSOLUTELY shred on a skateboard if given one and a reason to. Don't ask me why, she just has the Vibes, but I could also see her rollerblading for a hobby!

• Has an extensive and prized perfume collection handed down to her by her mom. Some of the bottles are antiques and will never be touched, but if she likes you enough she may let you spray one of the newer ones on yourself. Once. Mista abused the priviledge and now there's a limit.

Fugo:

• Used to hate Abbachio when he first joined the gang. What made it so difficult in the beginning is Fugo hates authority figures (due to his past) and has a short fuse while Abbachio was as curt and flippant towards the young man as he is with everyone, until they both found out they shared a few interests like classical art, and now its like he has a goth step-dad.

• He gets constant ear infections from taking showers too often without ear plugs. Why do you think he gets angry enough to tear metal apart sometimes? We've all been there.

• When he's Big Mad sometimes he heads off to a random junk yard or trashed alley and goes ham bananas on whatever looks smashable enough. It's easier stress relief than punching holes in the wall. Less expensive too. Plus last time he did that it got a picture frame hung around it. Embarrassing.

• He's on the spectrum, and I believe that his Swiss-cheese suit exists solely due to his sensory issues. All the holes make the clothing feel less restrictive. Plus it gets hot in Italy, is it so wrong to have a little airflow? At least its a suit, complete with a tie, and not whatever the fuck some jojo characters got going on (Idk if you've seen Jumpin' Jack Flash but just looking at him pisses me off)

• Is the best when it comes to gift giving. He will study the person in question, researching what they like until he feels absolute in what he's picked out, buying gifts months in advance. His friends are always surprised and never disappointed. But his wrapping skills are literally the worst. Pitiful even. Its an abomination of clashing paper and too much tape every time.