#despite having every reason not to trust it

[majoryeager104]

Number One Girl In Your Eyes

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You’ve liked Katsuki since you first met him, and yet he doesn’t even seem to notice you, even though it’s obvious how much that hurts you.

A/n; Reader high-key acts like me so if you’re an overthinking hopeless romantic I gotchu <3

Warnings: angst with a sweet ending

1.4k word count

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You'd been in his atmosphere for ages. Hours spent in classrooms, training, or just talking in the dorms, you'd always been there. And yet it seemed like he never looked your way, even though it also seemed you were always looking his.

What a foolish thing, love. Riveting and torturous, always getting in the way of your thoughts, seeping through the cracks in your resolve like water poured down a sink, draining every other emotion until the only thing flooding your brain was him.

Or maybe this was something else. Maybe this was some other form of longing, jealousy, or maybe even loathing. Maybe the real reason that narrow gaze made you flush was because you hated the man, and no one would blame you for it. He was stubborn and mean and abrasive and cruel, a personality to match the quirk. And yet you were drawn in nonetheless.

Love or loathing, it didn't matter. He didn't care anyways. He never noticed your stares, he didn't care for your compliments when you'd give them on just how cool you thought his quirk was, and he certainly didn't notice you sitting there right next to him, silently pleading that he just look at you.

The common room was filled with chatter and laughing, your friends on the couch to your left. Mina had made sure that you'd end up with the seat next to Katsuki, smiling at you as she made her millionth attempt to play matchmaker. But today you were too tired for the antics, so you just sat quietly drinking some water, never letting your eyes linger too long on the boy next to you.

It was a weekend, and yet you and the rest of class 1-A had trained for hours, working yourselves to the bone. Your arms and legs felt so numb that it was one of the only things you could think about. One of, not the, because you were also thinking about the way Katsuki had so casually slung his arm over the back of the couch behind you while talking with Kirishima.

Mina giggled at you when you met her eyes, she'd noticed it almost as quick as you did, but she pretended otherwise when Katsuki glanced at her, wondering just what was so funny. You kept you gaze down, trying to block off your thoughts, block off Mina's stifled laughs, block off Katsuki fucking Bakugo as those narrow eyes landed on you too.

But that voice was something that you couldn't block off.

"You did good today" he said bluntly, and you blinked up at him, your resolve broken under his long awaited attention. And yet, despite finally getting him to even breathe your way, you still couldn't trust it. Don't get your hopes up, not yet. "…me?" You asked, your voice almost as uneasy as you actually were.

He scoffed. "Yeah you, idiot. Who else?" He retorted, his eyes crinkling slightly as he furrowed his brow "don't be nervous around me, it's annoying." He added, and with that, he turned his gaze away once more. You were speechless, looking up at him like a lost puppy.

Kirishima looked between you, Katsuki, and then Mina, and surprisingly caught on pretty quickly, speaking up. "Hey, Bakugo, be a little nicer to her" he butted in, giving you a sort of reassuring look. But between him, and Mina, and Katsuki coming up with some retort, you just felt… awful.

Why did your friends have to go through these hoops for you? Why couldn't you do it yourself? No, you'd already tried a million times, all failing miserably, just to get the guy you'd liked since you started at UA to look at you. You'd done enough. Why couldn't he see that? Why couldn’t he just…see you?

Before Katsuki could snap out a response to Kirishima, or even say anything else to you, you'd gotten up from the couch, and began walking towards the door. You didn’t want to deal with it anymore. Maybe it was loathing, because you now wanted nothing more than to ignore your crush as much as he ignored you.

Mina called you back, Kirishima scolded Katsuki, and everyone else stood around confused about the scene as you walked towards the elevator. You didn’t bother looking back as you hit the button up. The one time he’d talked to you in earnest, and you ran away. You felt stupid for all of it.

You stepped into the elevator, clicking the button, your eyes on the wall as someone slid into the elevator with you. You looked up, beyond surprised to see Katsuki, standing right next to you with his arms crossed, letting the elevator door closed, leaving you stuck alone with him.

“What are you doing” he said bluntly, stepping slightly closer. You stared at him, a small blush creeping onto your cheeks for a moment before you looked away. “Heading to bed. This is the girls elevator you know” you said quietly. At that he scoffed and moved closer. “I know.” He muttered, leaning against the wall in front of you 

He was quiet for a moment as the elevator began to move before he finally spoke up, saying a gruff “Why’d you get upset?” Under his breath. You looked up again, sighing. “I'm not upset-” “like hell you’re not” he interjected, standing straight, looming so close to you, those narrow eyes, always trained on something or someone else, were now totally and utterly fixed on you. 

“You’re a terrible liar. Just be honest with me, and quit trying to act like I didn’t upset you.” He said it so honestly, his voice going quieter again as he stared at you, continuing. “Did I upset you?”

You stared at him, feeling dizzy as the elevator door opened. He looked at it and then back at you, groaning in frustration as he dragged you out into the hallway. “Which rooms yours?” He asked, and, totally confused, you just pointed and he dragged you through the door, looking around. “You suck at decorating” he said bluntly before sitting you down. “What’s. Wrong?” He repeated, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You were still so confused. Why did he care so much? Why would Katsuki fucking Bakugo be so concerned that he knelt in front of you like this? Did he actually feel bad? Did he actually care about you?

At that thought your struggle slipped out faster than you could stop them. “I like you. And I wish I didn’t” you whispered, your words falling into the silence of your room as he knelt in front of you, his expression as unchanged as ever.

The both of you were silent for a moment, just staring at each other. Your breath was rather rapid, and there was no hiding your blush now. Why did I say that why did I say that why did I say that why did I-

“Seriously? That’s it?”

You could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle in his voice as he spoke up. “I knew that.” He said simply, standing up. “Like I said, you’re a terrible liar.”

Before you could respond, or even grasp his words, he was already walking towards your door. But he stopped at the door, as if sensing your confusion. “Your decorations aren't… terrible… and I guess I like you too”

Your breath caught in your throat. he said that last part so quickly as he opened the door and walked through, saying a quick goodnight before closing it behind him. what the hell just happened? Best believe you’d be pondering the answer all night 

Meanwhile, Katsuki was walking back down the hall to the elevator, taking deep breaths as he adjusted his uniform tie. he didn’t know why he let that slip out, but he knew it’d make you feel better…maybe. god he hated it when he couldn’t think things through before he spoke. 

The truth is, Katsuki had never ignored you. He’d never tell you that though. The glances he’d steal at you were much quicker taken. Shitty hair knew, hell, even Dunce-Face Kaminari knew. But he’d swore off ever telling you. He had too much he wanted- no- needed to do first. But now, those plans were a bit muddled.

And, despite what he said, he didn’t actually know you liked him back. He just said that in an attempt to deflect. What an idiot. A stupid, secretly lovesick idiot. 

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Part 2?

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 11

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut), uhh badly proofread Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: hii i know i know i promised this yesterday but i nearly had a panic attack so i couldn't, my bad. i'm good now! please enjoy this before paige's last game at XL :((

-

Before London

“So as everyone can see, here we have a list of statistics showing the viewership per video and definitely can see an increase from last year, content with Paige seems to do extremely well like we…”

Linda’s voice blends into the background sounds of cutlery and plates and chatter filling the dining hall. For some reason my boss thought an impromptu media team meeting was in order and showed up to College Park Center unannounced. She wanted to catch up on what sort of content attracted most viewership, and to evaluate what worked and what didn’t. I couldn’t have cared less - all I knew is I was doing a good job, fantastic even. I’m not sure why I had to sit through something I already knew just to have Linda reiterate it to me. It wasn’t like me to be resistant to a meeting, or to praise from my superior but I was far too distracted.

My eyes involuntarily keep travelling to the table on the far right where Paige was sitting with her teammates, voice echoing around the walls of the building. A sound I fear I might never get tired of. The blonde is leaning back on her chair, chugging water, biceps more prominent than usual after spending all morning in the weight room. I knew this because she had driven me to work, despite having time off saying she needed to lift. I knew it wasn’t in her schedule as I had, almost accidentally, memorised it. Still there she had been, outside my door with a hazelnut latte, always somehow the perfect temperature whenever she brought me my coffee order. I hated when it was too hot.

As if sensing me, her blue eyes shift from Arike to me, locking with my gaze. Immediately I blush, trying to hide the smirk growing onto my face. But I can’t, so I cover my mouth with my hand to hide it from the team, particularly Linda, Paige’s mouth twisting into a bright smile in response. Yet we don’t break eye contact, keeping our eyes on each other.

Linda had been surprisingly credulous to my claims of a migraine when I missed work just a couple days ago. Since the night the blonde turned my entire world on its head. I hadn’t been able to think of anything ever since except the weight of her lips on my skin, her eager touch and starved eyes. I had been craving her every second since we drove back to Dallas. I needed more. As much as it pained me to admit.

With a grin on her face, Paige grabs her phone and types for a while, my screen lighting up with a notification.

Paige

Did i say how beautiful you look today yet

I blush, tapping underneath the table.

You did. A few times in the car.

Matter of fact she had been repeating it between sentences, and almost crashed the car twice because of how badly she had been staring.

Gotta tell you again

Takin my breath away all the way from over there

Finest girl I swearrrrr

I can’t help but smile.

You look like you’re breathing fine 🙄

I lift my gaze, seeing the blonde rubbing her chest and looking at her phone with a smirk.

Trust me ma

What Linda doin here?

Some sort of unnecessary meeting, I’m not sure why.

What time you getting off work?

I have a couple things to do after this but if you’re done you can go home, I’ll take a cab.

Fuck no i’ll wait

I could do some stretchin

You should join me

I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head to myself.

Paige!!

What??? Would be good for those tense muscles yk

Could think of sum other stuff to relax you too 😏😏

With a scoff I glance at the blonde who’s already looking with a playful, devilish grin. I look at her scoldingly, watching as she raises her brows and bites her lower lip to kill the smile before pointing at her phone, showing me she wants me to reply.

Why do I have an idea of what that might be?

Yeah? 

“So what do you think Izara?” Linda asks, snapping me back to reality.

“Uhh… Of?” I murmur, placing my phone screen down onto the table, thighs burning with the memory of how good the blonde had made me feel just a few days before.

“Do you think we can reach our goal followers-wise or are we being too ambitious?”

I quickly pull myself together, though I’ve barely heard a word. “Certainly if we keep pumping out content every day.” I don’t actually even know what goal we’re talking about.

However, my answer satisfies Linda, her mouth twisting into a smile. “Excellent!”

“Excuse me,” I hum, getting up from the table to grab an extra bottle of water. Paige, who has been watching, does the same, unable to not take advantage of the opportunity to talk to me.

I feel a gentle bump on my arm, eyes immediately snapping to the girl who’s looking smug as I eye the bottles.

“Hey pretty girl,” she whispers, placing a hand on my lower back. I quickly glance back at the media team to make sure no one was looking. To my relief they’re all too busy leaning in to stare at Trey who’s showcasing our latest content on his phone.

“Hey you,” I reply, my voice soft, quiet so no one can hear. Paige stands behind me, eyes skimming the different bottles of drinks as if mulling over her decision on what to get. But I know better. She’s stalling to stay talking to me. We had barely had any time to spend alone, my mind too busy wrapped up with work, Paige spending every waking moment on the court trying to get her shot back.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, reaching over for the bottle and holding it in my hand. Paige thinks for a second, grabbing a bottle of gatorade. All I can do is stare at her hands, mesmerised. Perfect hands that made me feel so incredible.

“Uhh nothing, why?”

“I’m coming over.”

Paige’s ears turn red, as she clears her throat, the idea immediately getting the younger girl flustered.

“Y-Yeah okay Iz,” she whispers, voice trembling a little. The effect I have on the girl makes me smile. It pleased me to know I had so much power over her. Little did she know she held just as much power over me, I was just much better at hiding it. However, my cheeks turn a hint of pink thinking about the possibilities of what might happen once we get a moment alone.

“Okay Paige,” I smile, eyes stuck on her flushed face. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

-

Waiting a couple hours had turned out to be much harder than I had planned, the thought of Paige’s hands on my body enough to have me growing wet in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer to feel the younger girl on me. Paige had felt the same, which had led us to our current predicament, my back pushed against the door of the storage room, the girl kissing my neck feverishly as my hands roam her body. The door handle digs into my lower back painfully but I barely notice.

“Paige,” I whimper, but she silences me with a heated kiss, tongue slipping past my lips into my mouth. My kisses are needy, desperate, a quiet moan spilling out when Paige’s hand kneads my ass, my short skirt hiking up as she does.

“You’re so sexy ma,” the blonde groans, lips glistening as she pulls back to look at me. “Killing me in a skirt like that.”

“Wore it for you,” I tease. Paige melts, moaning just from my words.

My arms wrap around her shoulders as I pull her back into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss by her hair. The blonde groans, lifting my skirt to squeeze the bare skin underneath, eyes opening to see the purple silk panties I was wearing. I hadn’t been prepared for the first time we slept together the way I liked to be, but after a meeting with my wax lady and a vigorous exfoliation routine last night I was prepared for her, my skin silky and smooth all for her from my head to my toes.

“Look at that,” she whispers, pulling back enough to admire the underwear sitting against my golden skin. “Goddamn.”

“Want you,” I hum, looking at her with round, pleading eyes. Paige takes a deep breath through her nose, groaning as she throws her head back. I know I’m driving her insane.

“We can’t,” she mumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. I’m taken back, slightly embarrassed. I never thought she’d reject me.

“Why not?”

Paige notices the surprise in my face, her blue eyes widening. “No, I want to. So fucking bad, you got no idea baby,” she starts, looking me up and down.

“Then what’s the problem?” I ask, getting annoyed which in turn makes my brows furrow.

“Iz I can’t just keep sleeping with you,” she sighs. “You’re more than that. You deserve more.”

I shake my head, pulling Paige back in by her sweaty T-shirt. She kisses me softly, nuzzling her nose into mine.

“I don’t care. I want you,” I repeat, the ache between my thighs nearly unbearable.

“I care,” the girl whispers, resting her forehead on mine. “Need to take you out on a date before we… y’know.”

I’m surprised, my eyes fluttering open.

“Need to do this right Izzie,” she hums, kissing the top of my head. “Need to take you out before I do all the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”

I nearly collapse at her words, grateful for the strength of her grip on my hips.

“Oh,” I say, feeling the blonde pull my skirt back down hesitantly.

“Please, lemme treat you right ma,” she pleads, kissing both my cheeks softly. “Lemme take you out. Been dying to, ever since I saw you. Please.”

-

Taking a deep breath, I look at my reflection in the mirror once more. White shorts and a white oversized button up, both neatly pressed not a single wrinkle on them. I’ve really gotten tan here. I lean closer to add the signature diamond studs onto my ears, smoothing over the hair slicked back into a low bun. I check my nails one more time, making sure each one is short and filed up to my standards. No, not mine. Up to Izzie’s standards. I look good, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. For my gorgeous, perfect London girl.

I grab the huge bouquet of white lilies and head downstairs, toying with my silver chain as I knock on the door. I don’t remember the last time I had been nervous over a girl before Izzie. So much for my plans to stay celibate this season. Like clockwork, the door opens.

I feel breathless when I see her. She’s wearing a bronze coloured satin dress, the perfect contrast against her skin, with spaghetti straps and a slightly plunging neckline, her breasts on display just enough to make me wanna look for a little too long. The dress isn’t too tight, clinging to her curves in all the right places, the hem ending at her calves. Her skin glows from her arms decorated with gold bracelets, all the way down to her calves and feet, beautifully arched in matching sandals. Izzie looks stunning, glowing with the power of a hundred suns.

I let out a low whistle, unsure what to say. I feel flustered, nervous in front of her. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time all over again, two months ago in this same hallway. 

“Whoa,” is all I can say, my palms sweating already.

Izzie giggles and then she does something I’ll never get over. She simply tilts her head, sharp eyes sparkling at me, slender fingers reaching over and fixing the collar of my shirt. And my knees nearly buckle.

“We don’t need to go out,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss the girl. But she tuts softly, pulling back and placing two fingers on my chin to stop me sternly.

“Lipgloss,” she grins, pushing my face back by my jaw playfully. “And yes we do, took me three hours to get ready.”

I can see that, every strand of her black hair carefully set in uniform waves running down her back. All I can do is stare at her, mouth open.

“Paige?” Izzie giggles.

“What?” I ask, cheeks bright red.

“The flowers?”

I glance down at the bouquet in my hand, handing them to the girl. “Oh yeah, these are for you,” I laugh awkwardly, nearly unable to look the girl in the eye.

“I love lilies,” she gleams, inhaling their scent and humming contentedly.  

“I know, you told me,” I smile, stepping in as she turns her back on me to put the flowers in a vase. My eyes travel from her hair downwards to the curve of her ass just for a moment, fighting the urge to pull up the hem and dive between her legs. I quickly glance up, trying to keep myself in check. Date first. Be respectful.

“You remembered,” Izzie smiles to herself, setting the flowers onto her dining table. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

The girl turns to me, throwing her hands around my shoulders and kissing me lovingly. 

“What about your lipgloss?” I mumble against her lips, one hand on her lower back, the other on her neck pulling her in.

“I’ll reapply,” she sighs. I loved the way she was, meticulous and disciplined. But my God did I adore the way she had loosened up around me, the way she seemed to have a newfound ease about her. How she arrived to work yesterday wearing pants and flats, giggling with her co-workers lightheartedly, the pearls of her laughter echoing around every room she entered. 

“Shit,” I pull back from the kiss with a struggle. “I got us a car baby, we should go.”

Iz whines in a way that pulls at my heartstrings, her brows furrowing in desperation, tracing her fingers up and down my arms, squeezing my biceps that had grown exponentially during my time in the league.

“You look so gorgeous,” Izzie hums, smoothing over my collar one last time, leaning close and pressing a kiss onto my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“C’mon,” I sigh. “If we don’t go now we ain’t ever gon leave.”

-

“Paige,” I gasp as she opens the car door for me and I realise where we are. 

“What? You like?” The blonde grins, offering her hand to help me out and watching my face for approval. I step onto the pavement, wrapping my arm around hers as we walk into the building, the doorman letting us in with a polite smile. We step into the gorgeous, high-end restaurant, Paige smoothly letting the hostess know that we had arrived. 

I had mentioned Monarch countless times in conversation, brought up how the customer from Dallas that left an irrevocable mark on me made me swear to dine there at least once in my life. It was on the pricier side, and I’d grown used to a certain lifestyle which my current pay couldn't maintain so I had been burning through my savings - it simply wasn’t in the budget. Except now, with this millionaire girl on my arm I suppose it did. Truthfully, I would’ve been happy with less. But I won’t lie that she really hit the nail on the head with this one. I mean she listened. Remembering my brother’s name, my favourite flower, now this? She really listened to me. I didn’t know it could be like this.

“Paige,” is all I can mutter out with a happy sigh, my mouth twisting to a smile. Paige tugs at her silver chain absentmindedly, her eyes flickering around the room before always landing back on me.

I slide myself into the booth, Paige following behind me, making me laugh.

“Paige, your plate is on that side,” I giggle, pointing to the set cutlery opposite of me. 

“I’ll ask em to move it over here,” she mumbles, her arm snaking around my waist and pulling me close so my side presses into hers, the pressure of her thigh on mine.

“Isn’t that gonna look a little silly?” I chuckle, watching as Paige reaches over the table and moves her entire table arrangement next to mine. I blush, looking around hoping no one noticed. This was a nice place. I could tell it wasn’t the blonde’s scene. Something about that made this even more endearing. It was all for me.

“Ion care if it does, it’s too far from you,” she whines, entangling her fingers with mine underneath the table. My eyes land on her blue ones, her face only a few inches from me. Paige licks her lips, her gaze flickering to my lips. I feel a familiar ache between my thighs return just from the sheer proximity of the blonde, and the smell of her cologne.

“Wanna kiss you so bad right now,” she whispers, both our breathing growing heavy. I nod, wanting the same. But we both knew it was better not to. After Luka was traded out of Dallas Paige was one of the biggest athletes in the entire city. A household name easily. We weren’t just sneaking around behind Linda’s back, we had to keep this on the low from the whole world. It’s not like we had to talk about it - we both knew it.

“Gotta wait,” I hum, jumping slightly as the waiter interrupts the moment, looking to take our orders. Paige, in her American manner, orders multiple side dishes and salads for us to share, the table filled with Wagyu Carpaccio and Octopus. But the real star of the night is the lamb, which the customer made me swear to get if I ever ended up at Monarch.

“Oh my Gosh,” I groan quietly, letting the meat melt into my mouth. I smooth the napkin on my lap, the luxurious linen smooth underneath my palm. Taking a sip of my Merlot, I notice Paige beside me, cutting the gorgeous lamb into multiple bite-size pieces before putting the knife down and beginning to eat with the fork. I watch, astonished, amused and embarrassed at the same time.

“You are so American,” I laugh, swallowing the wine and covering my mouth. The younger girl turns to me, confused.

“Whatchu mean?” She giggles but I eye her plate, rolling my eyes.

“Can you not eat with a fork and a knife at the same time?” I ask, raising my brows. Paige huffs, though the small curl a the corner of her mouth tells me she’s basking in my slightly condescending tone, the scolding lilt of my voice.

“Guess you’ll have to teach me your fancy English ways huh?”

“Oh my Gosh,” I sigh amused.

“The fork is in the wrong handddd,” she complains, continuing to eat, fork on the right hand. I make a mental note to teach her table manners before she meets my parents. Then, realising that she never would, decide to stay quiet. This is just a fling, a summer romance at most. A rebound - it’s what I tell myself to ease the slight panic in my chest when I thought more about what the end of the season would bring, me going back home to London, leaving my American girl here. My one summer in Dallas, cruel and much too short. Just a few months is all we’d ever get. Against my nature, I try not to worry about it, hoving the anxiety to some deep, dark corner of my mind, under all the other things I didn’t want to deal with.

The moment I notice my glass is empty, the blonde is already reaching for the jug of water and pouring me some. I watch closely, heart fluttering with affection.

-

Dinner is amazing, a dream come true. The food, of course, delicious. But even better is the satisfied smile on the dark haired girl’s face. The way her eyes gleamed every time she looked at me. The sound of her sweet laughter whenever I did anything she redeemed “American”. The slightly condescending manner with which she corrected my table manners, praising me every time I did something right. Every cell in me wanted to please her. Hear more of her “good job” and “that’s it”. Feel the hand on my shoulder squeezing, affirming her words. I was ecstatic, even more so knowing that this was just the first of many dates. That I would get to take Izara out for years to come, hear her praises forever if I played my cards right. And I desperately wanted this to be forever. I know I was going way too fast. But I couldn’t help my mind from picturing her in a white dress, playing with our children, waiting for me at home after practice.

“I’m so full,” Izzie sighs, leaning back against the booth and rubbing up and down my arm affectionately. “You did so good with this darling.”

I melt, my eyes nearly rolling back at her praise, never mind the pet name.

“Lemme order you some dessert,” I nearly whine, my plate finished much earlier than Izara’s.

The girl leans over and checks the dessert menu, quickly skimming it over and scrunching her face.

“You too full baby?”

“Could we just go out and get some ice cream from a stand?” The girl asks, her green eyes fluttering at me. How could I ever say no?

“You sure? They got some nice dessert here. Fancy,” I ask, flipping the menu over in my hand. I wanted the girl to have whatever she wanted. I wanted to give her the entire world.

Izzie nods, placing her hand on my thigh. “Don’t want fancy, just want some ice cream.” I’m surprised, thinking the fancier the better. Maybe I was wrong.

-

The Dallas night is still as hot as the day, but there’s a pleasant breeze in place of the scorching sun from earlier. Izara looks even more beautiful in the glow of the city lights and under the twinkling night sky. I can’t tear my eyes away, nearly running into a pole from staring at her so much.

“Could I taste yours?” Izzie asks, handing me her chocolate ice cream cone. Wordlessly, without hesitation, I give her my strawberry cone, honestly ready to turn around and order five more of them for her.

I watch closely as Izara’s tongue darts out to taste the ice cream, a jolt running down my spine to my core, with dirty thoughts flooding my mind.

“Mmh, this is delicious,” she murmurs.

“Take it,” I say without hesitation. Izzie hums, accepting my offer quickly. Almost as if she expected it. Something about it drove me wild.

We walk around the city, hand in hand, easily blending in with the crowd, not worrying about familiar faces, making sure that with every turn I was walking on the street side, keeping her safe. I felt proud walking side by side with Izara, knowing that people walking by knew she was all mine. That I got a girl like this, far from my league. I wanted everyone to know that she’s mine - having to keep this hidden would turn out to be much harder than I imagined. Still, the idea of this being our little secret felt exciting.

The breeze and the ice cream cause goosebumps to form all over Izzie’s arms, a slight chill running through her. I curse myself in my head for not bringing a sweater, making a mental note to never go anywhere without one for her from now on.

“You ever miss London?” I ask, pulling her closer by her waist out of the way of someone walking by.

“No,” she quickly replies, surprisingly bluntly. I’m taken aback.

“Not at all?”

Izzie shakes her head. “Too many bad things in London.”

I immediately understand what she means. Jasper. At least the desperate phone calls had seemed to stop.

“You really don’t miss anything?”

The dark haired girl thinks for a while. “Well, I miss the chocolate. Nothing here tastes like Cadbury.”

We walk around, eager to finish the chocolate ice cream Iz ordered, but I slow down, trying to match the pace with which she’s eating out of politeness. My blue eyes roam her face, trying to memorise each little detail. Her dark, perfectly arched brows, long lashes darkened with mascara, plump lips with only a hint of the lipstick from earlier, fading from eating the ice cream. Her dark curls stick to her neck, desperate to escape the carefully shaped waves, golden necklace dangling at her collarbone. I reach over, my cold fingers making the girl jump when they adjust the clasp, dragging against her skin from the base of her neck to the back.

We come to a stop, Izara’s green eyes lined with black glimmering, her face turning different colors as ads flash red, blue, green on a screen by the sidewalk. The words spill from between my lips faster than I can think, let alone stop myself.

“I really like you Iz,” I murmur, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I mean, I think I’m fallin’ for you.”

Her breath hitches, eyes softening only for a moment, and then widening. With surprise? With panic? I’m not sure. I wouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t something you said on a first date. I wanted to smack the back of my own head for that. I quickly look up, in a momentary prayer hoping God would let me rewind just 20 seconds. But no one answers my request.

“Shit, I’m sorry if it’s too much. You don’t gotta say anything okay?” I tell Izzie, avoiding her gaze.

“It’s okay love,” she smiles, thumb brushing against my skin comfortingly. However, I see a hint of hesitation on her face. “But Paige I thi-”

“Look, let’s just forget I said that aight?” I ask, my chest aching, begging to God I didn’t just ruin this before it could even start.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, trying to comfort me. But I could tell she felt uneasy about something. “I think we just gotta remember that we need to be really careful about this, yeah?”

I sigh nodding. She’s right. “Yeah.”

“I mean the stakes aren't the same for you and me. If we get caught,” she starts, letting out a heavy breath. “I’ll be back in London in no time. You however would be completely fine.”

I nod, wanting the girl to know I was really hearing her out. “Gon be really careful okay?”

“No slip ups.”

“No ma’am,” I answer reassuringly.

“And you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not Arike, not Lou, no one. They can’t know.”

“I agree,” I tell the girl. “Look, I meant what I said. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be.”

The girl smiles, for a moment I think there’s a hint of sadness there, but it’s gone just as fast as it appeared. “Today’s been… amazing.”

I bite my lower lip, hand coming to her lower back just for a moment. There was nothing in this world that felt as good as hearing her praise. Maybe winning the national championship. Top two things I’ve ever experienced.

“Wanted it to be special for you, Iz,” I hum, blushing a little. Just as she’s about to answer, her phone rings.

“It’s Trey,” she murmurs. Of course it is. I can’t help but roll my eyes, watching as she raises the phone to her ear and answers. That’s how we walk back to the car, the girl next to me talking animatedly on the phone about whatever, my irritation growing with each moment. I knew they were friends. But everytime she giggled or laughed at whatever the man on the phone was saying, my jaw clenched and breathing grew heavier.

“Okay, Trey I really must go. I’ll see you in a couple days,” Izzie, who had been trying to politely end the call, says. I hear Trey’s defiant protests all the way from the driver’s seat, making me want to grab the girl’s phone and hang up for her.

Iz laughs politely at whatever he said. “Treeyy, I’ll talk to you about this at work okay? Alright, bye now.”

Finally, she hangs up.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it might be about work but he was just calling to explain about some sort of couch he was considering getting,” Iz chuckles, finally turning her gaze to me.I feel my annoyance settle down the moment her eyes land on me. Having her attention just had the effect of soothing me. Still, it bothered me that the girl was so oblivious to Trey’s obsession with her. I sigh, chewing on the inside of my cheek. 

“What?” Izzie asks, noticing my irritation as we sit in the parked car.

“You know he likes you, right?”

Izara rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with that again.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

I turn to her, raising my brows. “You prolly don’t see it but I do. He’s always calling or texting you, following you around or tryna touch you. All the time. He obsessed, trust.”

Izzie scoffs, turning to me. “I think you’re just reading into it too much.”

I shake my head. “He likes you.”

She looks like she's about to get defensive, but then her face softens. “Well, even if he does, I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask, my voice growing needy.

“No darling,” she hums quietly, reaching over and placing her dainty hand on mine. “I couldn’t care less about Trey.”

My heart flutters, the warmth in my chest spreading all over my body, chills forming underneath her touch. All the frustration and annoyance that had been growing are replaced with affection now that I feel reassured

“Yeah?” I ask carefully, nearly flinching at how whiny it comes out.

Izzie smiles, leaning over the center console and kissing my cheek. I catch a whiff of the pear and lavender notes of her perfume, my head spinning.

“Yeah.”

I lean over too, my lips finally crashing against hers, both hands holding her face gently like a baby bird, doing everything in my power not to disrupt her. Her lips taste like strawberries, and a hint of red wine from dinner. The wine had loosened Izzie up, her body turning into putty in the passenger seat just from one kiss. 

Her hands wrap around my neck, scratching at the back of my neck to pull me impossibly closer. I groan, arousal growing quickly between my thighs. A passing car honks, reminding me of our surroundings and the fact that the windows were not tinted. At the sudden realisation, I pull back abruptly, wiping my lips. 

Izzie looks breathless, cheeks flushed and lips parted and glossy. 

You wanna come to mine, ma?” I ask, or rather plead. The thought of getting to bring her home after had been the only force to give me the strength to keep my hands to myself all night.

“Yes,” she simply exhales. I feel a thrill, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to head towards our home, my hand never leaving her thigh, mind filled with the thoughts of lifting the skirt and diving into her.

-

My chest heaves as we climb the stairs, Izara’s heels tapping against the marble and echoing in the corridor. As I open the door, I let the dark-haired girl in, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

“Whoa,” she gasps. Stepping inside after her, I watch her face brighten as a trail of red rose petals on the floor leads all the way to the bedroom, just as I had set them before picking her up.

I step closer, pressing my front against her back, leaning down to kiss her neck as my hands find their position on her waist. I loved that even in heels she was a few inches shorter than me. Her body melts into me quickly, the curve of her ass pressing into my hips. The satin is smooth and cool under my fingertips, and her neck smells like her perfume and the fruity hair products she uses. Guava?

“You did this?” she asks, her voice gasping as my lips glide against her neck, feeling for her pulse under my kisses. 

Finally, I find the steady beating on the side of her long neck, my lips wrapping around it and sucking. Izzie exhales softly, her hands finding mine at her waist.

“Mhmm,” I hum, nuzzling my nose into her ear before kissing it feverishly. I needed her so desperately, like I had been travelling the desert for days and finally found an oasis filled with fresh water and sweet fruit and cool shade. I’m surprised I’m even able to stand upright.

“Oh so you knew I’d be coming over? That’s how you see me?” Her voice is stern, sending a jolt through my body. It makes me want to get on my knees and apologize, repent.

“N-No baby, I mean I was hopin’ but I didn’t assume. Iz, I swear I don-”

I’m joking, Paige,” she laughs, craning her neck to look into my face, an amused smile on her lips. My cheeks turn red as I laugh at myself.

I walk the girl forward, following the rose petals into the bedroom. They reach the bed, the white sheets decorated with the flower petals as well. Izara looks around, a smile on her face. I feel the ache between my thighs grow knowing I had made her happy.

Before I can say anything, she flips around to face me, kissing me heatedly. Her mouth is wide open against mine, tongue circling mine and fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Lemme light the candles,” I hiss, furrowing my brows and trying to pull away. But Izzie pulls me in by my collar, kissing me again.

“Fuck the candles,” she murmurs and, to my surprise, walks me backward into the bed.

I crash onto my back, Izzie pushing me down by my chest. “Let me dim the lights,” she says, but I grab her hand.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, my brows furrowing. “Wanna see you baby.”

She hesitates for a moment, but I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it gently. “Please.”

Izzie pulls her hand back, convinced by the simple gesture, and reaches behind her back to her zipper. She unzips the dress far too slow, driving me insane. I wanted her now. So I whine, furrowing my brows and squirming on the bed, but the girl only shakes her head, slipping one strap off her shoulder. I nearly pass out.

“Patience,” Iz tells me, her voice low and gravelly. I can’t look away, wetting my lips with my tongue as I watch the second strap fall from her shoulder, the dress finally hitting the floor.

“Oh shit,” I murmur to myself, my boxers growing wetter and wetter the moment I realise she wasn’t wearing a bra at all, her body only covered with black lace panties. My gaze is stuck on her chest though, her round breasts covered in goosebumps. Breathing heavy, I sit up, mouth watering to wrap my lips around her hard nipple, to knead the skin.

“Nuh uh,” Izzie snaps, pushing me back down onto my back. I feel a thrill, surprised to find how much this turned me on. I was so used to being the one in charge, I didn’t even know how insanely hot it would be for the dark haired girl to be giving me commands. Though, in hindsight, I probably should have known from the way my core throbbed everytime she demanded something from me.

“Iz,” I groan, watching as her nimble fingers begin to unbutton my shirt, painfully slowly. I feel like I might pass out.

“Remember what I said baby,” she hums, straddling my hips, thighs becoming even thicker on both sides of me as she sits down on them. Izzie leans down, lips hovering over my ear, hot breath tickling it. “Patience,” she whispers, and then ghosts my skin, leaving me writhing.

Finally she pulls my shirt open, revealing the white sports bra underneath. Her long nail drags from my neck downwards, to my chest, and finally to the muscles of my abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whine, watching the way her eyes darken as she gazes down at me. My hands come to her hips, easily reaching over to knead her ass. To my relief, she lets me, exhaling heavily and throwing her head back as I feel her skin. My hands feel up her sides, to her breast, kneading them in each hand and bucking my hips to look for any relief on my soaked core.

My chest heaves vigorously, right hand dragging downwards, down the skin of her stomach, fingertips dipping into the band. I needed to feel her. Now. I was dying, and I needed to make sure she didn’t feel like I did, desperate and throbbing.

“No,” Iz says, grabbing my wrist. I look at her pleadingly, eyes nearly welling up at the thought of how wet she might be.

“Please,” I whine. “Ride my fingers ma.”

Izzie’s eyes flutter shut at this, but sternly, she shakes her head. leaning down to kiss me. It’s sloppy, our tongues meeting in heated movements, spit covering both our mouths. The girl on top of me continues her open mouthed kisses, finding her way from my neck downwards. It’s then I realise what she’s about to do, the puddle between my legs growing unbearable.

I maneuver upward on the bed, too wet to notice the nervousness in the girl’s eyes when she starts kissing along the band of my shorts, hands coming to pull them down.

“Fuck ma,” I whimper, my entire body shaking with need. I had been dreaming of this moment, spent many hours lying in my bed with my hand between my legs imagining what her green, sharp, catlike eyes would look watching up at me.

She leaves me in my boxers, nails digging into my inner thighs as she spreads my legs apart.

“Please,” I murmur, eyes fluttering shut from how badly my cunt is soaking through the white boxers.

“What’s wrong my love?” Izzie asks, voice so sweet it’s bordering on condescending as she leans down between my legs, kissing my thighs, biting the skin. The wine had made her bolder, more liberated. It drove me insane.

“Need you baby,” I whine, bucking my hips. It’s no use, the dark haired girl’s hands holding my body still.

“What do you need from me darling?” She asks, fingertips playing with the band of my boxers in a way that made me want to flip her over and take her this very moment.

“Shit,” I hiss to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Baby please. touch me. Gon’ die if you don’t.”

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

She’s pressing kisses on top of the soaked fabric of my boxers now, brushing lightly against my clit. I need more, so insanely bad. I feel like I might explode.

“Mhm,” I whimper, my voice shakier and needier than I liked - not that I cared much in this very moment.

“Tell me baby,” she smiles, looking up at my scrunched up face, slowly pulling down the last layer of fabric between her and where I needed her most.

“I-” I’m stuttering, overwhelmed, feeling like I might cum just purely from the sight. “Your mouth, mama, please.”

As I say the words, she pulls my boxers down, and begins to kiss around my wet cunt, everywhere but where I need her the most. Still, I’m moaning like crazy, knowing there must be a few concerned neighbours listening by now. I couldn’t care less.

Finally, the dark haired girl touches my clit, starting with small kitten licks. 

“That’s it, holy shit,” I gasp, hands coming down to her hair, trying to maintain the urge to yank it wherever I want her.

“Mhmm,” she moans against my core, lips wrapping around my clit and sucking gently. 

“Fuck, you’re so- holy shit,” I murmur, unable to think straight, legs already shaking, chest heaving uncontrollably. I can’t tear my eyes away from hers, as she looks up at me. my thighs on each side of her face.

“Taste so good,” she mumbles, a blush on her cheeks from the filthy words. Still, she keeps going, the vibrations of her moans bringing me closer and closer. Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to start spreading in my abdomen, making my pussy throb around nothing as her tongue flicks back and forth in my folds.

“Make me feel so good, fuck baby, look at you,” I praise, my voice high pitched and whiny. “Look so fuckin’ pretty between my le- aw shit.”

I feel it, already growing hotter and hotter, the fire inside me making my muscles tense.

“I- I’m so cl-” I whimper, yanking on the girl’s hair.

“Baby,” Iz moans, wrapping her lips around my clit while her tongue flicks against it, making it impossible to hold back.

“Keep doin’ that, don’t stop. Don’t st-” I cry out, legs trembling and muscles tensing as the girl between my legs keeps pushing me closer and closer. “Shit mama, I’m gon’ cum.”

With that, I tip over the edge, pleasure crashing through my body, writhing and moaning. The orgasm is just as intense as it was fast, making my grip tighten around Izzie’s hair as she keeps up with the movement of her tongue.

As I come back down, the dark haired girl climbs back up, kissing me with authority. I feel embarrassed, from how wet her face is, and most of all from how fast I came. Couldn’t have been more than two minutes. It was something about her that made me yield, completely submit to her, my body too weak to fight it.

“Well that was quick,” Izzie giggles as she pulls away from me. I roll my eyes, flipping the girl on her back.

“Just wanted it to be your turn fast ma,” I mumble, beginning to kiss her neck.

-

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, P- Paige, fuck,” I cry out, tears filling my eyes as Paige presses on my lower back, pinning my hips down against the mattress. Her fingers are buried deep inside me, slipping in and out of me with a rapid pace, making my pussy drip all over the sheets. It was overwhelming, the strength of her fingers something I had never experienced before - what didn’t help was the three times I had already cum after she finished.

“Just one more, I promise. Swear baby. Can feel how much you’re throbbing around my fingers,” Paige coos, pressing sloppy kisses onto my sweaty back before sitting back up and kneading on the skin of my ass to get deeper inside me. Something about her filthy words made me willing to keep going, my orgasm building quickly from how sensitive I had been left after the past couple hours.

“Baby,” I cry out, grabbing the sheets desperately, tears spilling down my cheeks into the cotton blanket underneath me, sticking to my skin. 

“So perfect,” the blonde groans, eyes watching closely the way my pussy molded around her fingers, stretched out just for her, gushing around the long digits slipping in and out.

“P- I’m gonna-” I gasp, back arching as the muscles inside me coil tighter and tighter.

“C’mon ma, lemme make you cum,” she moans, leaning back down and kissing my ear, her hot breath sending chills all over as her fingers keep pumping into me. “So fuckin’ gorgeous you know that?”

With a high pitched whine, the coil finally snaps, my core clenching around her fingers as she makes me cum for the fourth time that night. My entire body trembles, hands grabbing the sheets desperately. The blonde brings her free hand to mine, long digits entangling with mine comfortingly.

“That’s it, fuck, look at you,” Paige murmurs into my ear, talking me through it as the waves of pleasure wash over me. I feel sore, tired, but in that moment everything else is forgotten, except the ecstasy taking over my entire existence, and the blonde’s praise in my ear.

“You are so fucking sexy,” the blonde whispers into my ear, slipping her fingers out of me and wrapping a comforting arm around me. In a haze, I nustle myself into her side, still attempting to slow down my rapid breathing.

I chuckle, finally opening my eyes and flipping onto my back. I couldn’t believe how many times she had just gotten me off. Most of all I couldn’t believe I let her do that all to me with all the lights on, and enjoyed it too much to even care. 

We both lie in each other’s arms, completely naked. Paige’s blonde hair is falling out of her bun, sweat glistening against her bare arms, covered in veins from the strain. She’s breathing loudly through her nose, watching my face. Surely I looked horrendous, makeup all over my face, hair fully out of place, curls wild and unruly. But the younger girl’s blue eyes continue to stare, soft and adoring. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead, loaded with emotion - feelings I wasn’t ready to face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige whispers, nuzzling her nose into mine. My heart flutters almost painfully. At that moment I know - I’m in trouble. That leaving Dallas behind after the season is over won’t be as effortless as I had hoped. I decide to worry about that later, wrapping my leg around the blonde and pressing my naked body against hers.

“So are you,” I murmur, letting Paige cocoon me with her big arms.

"One more time ma, please?"

-

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[zsakuva]

I'm sure this has been asked, but I had found your stuff recently and absolutely love how the different characters are with each being just as charming as the next. My question is what is the thought/writing process? I am wanting to be better at defining my ocs and characters without falling into the same trope and behaviors the characters have exhibit. Obviously there are different methods for different people, but I'll like to know a little bit of the process for you. Do you have any tips to make the voices distinct and consistent through out a piece of writing?

Thank you!

For me, because I have a proclivity for world-building (meaning I am absolutely obsessed and must know the lore before I do anything), I like to understand the path a character has chosen. Their past experiences and upbringing have a dramatic impact on how they shape their own life, and that informs me of how a character acts, talks, and how they both see and react to the world around them.

I'll use Isaac Rhoades as a brief example (I wrote brief but this is not brief at all, my bad xD).

From the beginning, Isaac was written with a sealed heart and a cold personality. He's an articulate and smart man, a workaholic, but he lives in solitude.

I always ask myself how and why a character is who they are, and what decisions they made/experiences they've had to bring them to this point.

For Isaac, his background paints quite the picture:

Born to loving parents, and his grandfather is a successful private investigator — The early part of his childhood nurtured love and care. His mother in particular showed him what it meant to love unconditionally.

His parents are murdered because of his grandfather's choice — Isaac was taught that even the people you love can hurt you, and that nowhere is a safe space.

Learning under his grandfather — Because of his vast portfolio and cases, Isaac is taught more about the workings of the world, and how to stay cautious. There was no space for fun or games; his only objective was expanding his knowledge in many subjects that his grandfather deemed worthy.

Getting stabbed by the maid — This reinforced the thought of a perpetual threat and the need to stay vigilant. It instilled paranoia in him to trust no one.

University in England and Andrew — Here, he remembers the love of his childhood, but also the threat of losing someone else because of his own decisions, taught by his grandfather.

Learning the reason of his grandfather's decision — Isaac was taught that there is always more to one person, for better or worse, as taught by the maid. Due to this and what he's learnt thus far, Isaac decides to seclude himself so he's never forced to make that kind of choice.

Succeeding his grandfather — Being a private investigator opened his eyes to humanity's extremes: the lengths they would go for their own desires at the detriment of others, and the yearning others had to better the world. His work reminds him of his life experiences, and these beliefs constantly clash.

Isaac is distant and cold at first because his life taught him not to trust anyone—even the unassuming—and he doesn't want to let anyone in; they could either betray him, or he could lose them. And yet, despite that, his mother's teachings managed to peek through when he saw Pickle in the alley, alluding to his true nature. Through Isaac's story, his internal struggle begins to rear: desperately wanting to feel love again, but knowing the cost if he does give in and the inevitable choice he might have to make if he opens his heart again.

Isaac is articulate and smart because of his grandfather's teachings. One can assume he stayed in that house for the rest of his teenage years until he left for university, so the only person he really interacted with was his grandfather. Because of this, he's factual, precise, and seldom makes jokes because mostly every conversation had been connected to work in some form. Small talk is a waste of time, and he doesn't indulge others unless there's a reason for it. He's meticulous with when to speak and when to listen.

Isaac is a workaholic because that is what his life has been shaped to be, also likely influenced by his grandfather. He has money, but continues to work. Why? Perhaps it's because he'd be without purpose otherwise. Or is it because he feels it's his duty to continue in his grandfather's footsteps and find the one thing that matters in the ocean of bullshit?

All of this shapes who Isaac is. It wouldn't make sense for him to have the same disposition as Andrew. Though they are similar in ways (articulation, education, work addiction), they take different forms and stem from the unique experiences they've lived. Where Andrew can engage in small talk (he had a freer childhood, a rebellious and fun twin brother, and more public school education/social interactions), Isaac can't. And though they both carry the weight of their own regrets alone, Andrew chooses to live with what he has, but Isaac chooses to endlessly bear the weight of the world and live up to his grandfather's bravery.

SO. With that being said, a suggestion I can give is to constantly remind yourself who your character is with every decision they make. Is it true to them? Does it make sense for them? But remember, humans are also notoriously contradictive, and one is not the same as another. We experience and react to the same conditions in completely different ways; who you are and what you've been through can determine the outcome.

I hope this has helped in some form of way!

Again I apologise for this monstrous post have fun writing aaaaa-

[valeriefauxnom]

Dragalia Niche Things In Weapon Lore You May Not Know

-Emperor Dane, ya know, the dude that Jupiter accidentally set on a brutal conquest where he became a dude that would kill two for fun every day?

He was also a weeaboo:

I knew there must have been warning signs that such a nice prince could be beholden to such depravity...

-Karina's real identity maaaaybe is Miralda, princess of Dargas.

The weapon that bears this description is a water axe, the very same weapon and element she wields, and it theoretically fits within her story. She claims that she ran off, but hardly escaped before she was captured. It would make sense that in a pirate invasion that they'd be crawling over the area enough to instantly get ahold of her.

If true, this would be an interesting case of Dragalia telling the future of a character. It's also one I potentially could see, since Karina's story focuses on her wondering how Euden has kept himself as a Good Boi even if he's a prince among all those Nasty Bois and Girls, so I could see her being inspired to change things in her own land later on.

Granted, it's not 100%, 'I have a definitive section where she clearly states she is Miralda', but I think there's enough 'hmm' elements to warrant a spot here!

-Zodiark had a cult around him, who called themselves Meggidothians! Also, they liked sacrificing humans.

...Of course, not officially sanctioned, but that didn't stop them!

Meggidoth might have also been a real person, but it is unknown how much he was involved or responsible for the cult's creation/tenets:

They also have an alternative cosmology:

-This isn't really a hidden lore or fact, but I find it curious that the weapon 'Blackwing' bears such a strong resemblance to Zodiark, without being attributed to him in any way. It looks more like him than his actual high dragon weapon:

-Alberius had a lance made when his kingdom was created and promised to personally kill anyone with it that threatened the formation of the new nation. He meant business, I guess!

-Tartarus may have been cut in half by the Greatwyrms, which is the reason he's now half-steel:

-Humans once got so nutty over a spear that Mercury put it at the bottom of the ocean

-There may be more than just one ark of humans living in the sky and at least one may have fallen and did a whoopsie destruction of a kingdom:

-Kukris are a weapon tied to the southeastern-most part of Grastea:

...And this is another instance of 'very niche lore that the writers kept track of', as Nevin's story also reaffirms this lore that kukris aren't really used except in the SE:

-This is just a funny intermission, but I find it funny if you take the many many many weapon descriptions literally, Euden's handing out weapons left and right quite skilled in delivering torture and otherwise painstaking deaths and subsequent commendations to a similarly terrible afterlife. Oh yeah and some also can destroy the world. Here's a small sample of what I mean:

And trust me, despite the 3/4 examples being shadow weapons, this is far from exclusive to the shadow element. So, uh, yeah.

Don't mess with the Halidom unless you want to face a whole bunch of people capable of sending you and your soul into endless agonies?

Intermission over! Back to the actual lore parts instead of just the 'oh boy you're gonna love to hear what this beauty's capable of...' likely exaggerations.

-There's a prison called Odo somewhere in the world, who seems to have a lot of executioners who predominately execute by the good old axe or by a bow in a proto version of a firing squad, judging by their weapons.

It's unknown if it still exists, however, as Odo was the place Stribog the dragon protected until Agni destroyed it with a firebomb disguised as a Trojan Horse. Maybe it was rebuilt and eventually repurposed as a prison town?

As bonus related lore, the death penalty is very much still active in Alberia, and usually takes the form of beheading or hanging. It can be commanded by local lords (as feudalism is in full effect with local lords having much control over the workings of their endowed region) as well as through courts.

There's also this bit of lore regarding it in another weapon:

-There may have been another race in Grastea, possibly their equivalent of halfling or gnome-esque races:

-This strays into other niche lore, but there was a band of elite Alberian knights called the Alberian Ironsides who seemed to love tower shields:

-Also another crossover between wyrmprints and weapon lore, the Battle of the Thelodian Plains was one at least 300 years ago in which eventually 23 armies unaffiliated with a formal state came together in a senseless battle, with a casualty rate of 80% (quick reminder that 'casualty' counts both injured and dead).

-There was a dude called Count Logan the Brave who seemed to like collecting weapons and bringing them back home. There's three weapons that mention him.

-Interestingly, Troy, the one adventurer dude that pops up a bit frequently in weapon lore, the wand from his last supposed adventure seems to bear a bit of a resemblance to Bahamut...

...Who, by the way, was indeed the explicit creator of the earth, as Xenos crafted sky instead!

-Last but not least, Zodiark really just seems to be involved in a lot of weapons that are Not Good for their wielder:

That's all I have right now, but I do hope that you learned something about the eternally-batty Grastea, through the weapons its residents use!

[smystermy]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬

tags: geto suguru x you; gojo satoru x you; set before the star plasma vessel incident; senpai x kouhai; Meddling with a capital M; Pining with a capital P; can this be called humor?; you might come across as a little too harsh towards both of them here—but honestly, you have every reason to be, especially towards geto.

warnings: Love Triangle. my sincerest apologies to all the satoru lovers out there (trust me, i’m one of you, too).

word count: 1270.

oneshot, loosely related to 'peel your heart like a pomegranate'.

You Should Have Known.

The moment Geto brought it up, you should have known.

He had been too casual—too smooth. His voice light, offhanded. “Hey, we should all go out this weekend. There’s this new ramen shop.”

And then Satoru.

Satoru, who never cared about ramen, who turned his nose up at anything that wasn’t a luxury dessert, suddenly lighting up like a damn Christmas tree.

“Ohhh?” he’d drawled, grinning like he already knew something you didn’t. “Sounds fun.”

That should have been your first clue.

Your second? Haibara, hesitating—hesitating—before mumbling, “Uh, I might be late.”

Your third? Nanami’s flat, deadpan stare when you asked if he was coming. A long, withering look, like you had just told him curses were actually friendly creatures.

And yet, despite all of that—despite all of that—you still walk into the ramen shop, completely, stupidly unaware.

The warmth hits you first.

The scent of simmering broth and charred chashu curls through the air, thick and inviting. There’s a soft hum of conversation, the occasional clatter of chopsticks against ceramic bowls. Lanterns hang low, casting a cozy golden glow over wooden tables. The whole place feels like an easy, familiar embrace—the kind of setting where you should be surrounded by friends, laughter, and the promise of a good meal.

Your eyes scan the room, already picturing it—Geto slouched comfortably in the corner, halfway through his bowl, Shoko sipping lazily at her drink, Nanami suffering in silence as Haibara chatters away.

But they’re not here.

Only one person is.

Gojo Satoru.

Relaxed. Smug. Sprawled out in the booth like he owns the place, one arm stretched lazily over the seat beside him. A glass of something overly sweet sits in front of him, condensation beading along the rim. He stirs it with a lazy flick of his wrist, too slow, like he’s waiting for the grand reveal.

Your stomach drops.

The betrayal settles in your bones, slow and seething.

Satoru's grin spreads the moment he sees you, pleased and lazy, like a cat watching a mouse step right into its trap.

“Oh?” His voice is sweet—too sweet. “Just the two of us? How romantic.”

You stop in your tracks.

The scent of rich broth suddenly feels cloying. The warmth of the shop, suffocating.

“Where,” you ask, voice dangerously calm, “is everyone?”

Satoru tilts his head, stretching out the moment, dragging it along like he’s savoring the slow unraveling of your patience.

“Well… Nanami got buried under paperwork.”

(Of course he did.)

“Haibara had some last-minute errand.”

(Suspicious.)

“Shoko fell asleep—”

(Reasonable, but still suspect.)

Your teeth grind. “And Geto-senpai?”

Satoru takes a long, deliberate sip of his drink. You swear he’s doing it just to annoy you, the straw making an obnoxiously slow slurp.

Finally—finally—he lowers the glass and smirks.

“Oh. Suguru? Yeah, something came up.”

Your hands curl into fists.

This. Was. A. Set-up.

A blatant, premeditated, ruthless set-up.

Your own friends, conspiring against you.

Satoru leans forward, propping his chin on one hand, voice light. “Well, since you’re already here, wanna join me?”

You turn on your heel and walk straight out the door.

“Oi—WAIT, WAIT, DON’T JUST LEAVE.”

You keep walking.

A second later, he’s in front of you, moving so fast it’s infuriating.

“Whoa, whoa, at least let me walk you back—”

“No.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“No.”

“But we could—”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“I don’t care.”

Satoru groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you so mean to me?”

You whip around, pointing an accusing finger. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I got TRICKED into coming here?”

He grins. “But Suguru’s good at playing a matchmaker, don’t you think?”

You glare. “For the last time, I’m not interested in you, Satoru.”

He staggers back like you’ve just stabbed him, one hand over his heart. “Wow. No need to break my heart in public.”

You shove past him, marching back to campus.

“Sweets—”

“Go AWAY, Satoru.”

“You’ll miss me when I’m gone~”

“I WON’T.”

You don’t stop to look back—he isn’t worth the reaction he’s hoping for. Instead, you storm straight toward school, frustration simmering under your skin.

Back at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you find Geto’s room to be way too peaceful.

Not for long.

The door slams open with enough force to shake the frame.

“GETO-SENPAI!”

Your voice cuts through the stillness like a whip, shattering the quiet serenity of his dorm.

And yet, Geto doesn’t even flinch.

No startled jump, no guilty expression—nothing.

Just a slow, lazy lift of his gaze, dark eyes brimming with calm amusement. He’s lounging on the floor, back against his bed, a book resting open in his hands. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, hair loosely tied back, posture completely at ease—like he’s been idly flipping through the pages for hours.

The nerve.

A single warm lamp flickers beside him, casting golden light over the room. Incense lingers in the air—lavender and sandalwood, mellow and grounding. A soft breeze drifts in through the slightly open window, ruffling the sheer curtains.

Everything is too perfect.

The peaceful glow. The relaxed air. His infuriating lack of concern.

Your blood boils.

Geto tilts his head, lips curling into an insufferable smirk.

“Oh?” He sounds far too entertained. Too knowing. “You’re back. How was your little date?”

Your rage explodes. “YOU SET ME UP.” You storm forward, each step sharp, pulse hammering in your ears. “I SWEAR TO THE HEAVENS, I WILL—”

Geto closes his book with an infuriatingly soft snap and rests his chin in his palm, elbow propped on his knee.

“Will what?” His voice is all silk and mischief.

Your eyes dart wildly around the room, desperate for something to throw—and then you see it. A paper fan, sitting neatly on his desk.

Before you can think—before he can stop you—you snatch it up and hurl it straight out the window. A soft flutter follows as it disappears into the night.

Geto watches it go.

Then, he blinks once. Slowly.

“…Was that necessary?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you snap, voice shaking slightly, hands curling into fists. “I thought we were playing ‘Ruin Each Other’s Lives’ since you seem to enjoy ruining mine.”

He chuckles, low and rich, completely unbothered. “Come on. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

You glare. “You ABANDONED me. With SATORU.”

A lazy shrug. “He’s your childhood friend. You act like I threw you to the wolves.”

Your hands slam onto your hips.

“HE IS A WOLF. A VERY LOUD, FLIRTY, INSANELY IRRITATING WOLF.”

Geto leans back, stretching his arms over his head, expression mockingly thoughtful.

“But a charming one, don’t you think?”

Your jaw clenches. He doesn’t get it. He never does. And you can’t tell him why.

Because it isn’t just about Satoru—it’s about him. About how Geto, the only guy you’ve ever felt something real for, thought you belonged with his best friend instead. Like he’d never even considered himself an option. Like he didn’t even see you that way. Like you never even had a chance.

And that—that hurts more than anything.

You inhale sharply, forcing your voice steady. “Promise me you’ll never do this again.”

Geto’s lips twitch. “Hmm. Define ‘promise.’”

That’s it. Your patience snaps. Your gaze locks onto something else—a cigarette lighter.

His favorite cigarette lighter.

For the first time tonight, he reacts. Shoulders tensing, teasing smirk faltering just slightly.

“Hey—WAIT.”

Too late. You snatch it up and hurl it out the window.

Silence.

The night wind drifts in, cool against your skin. Geto exhales—deep, slow, measured.

Then—

“…You’re really on a roll tonight, huh?”

general masterlist || geto suguru masterlist || gojo satoru masterlist

[racoon3lizabeth]

Partying with a headache

summary: there’s a large party in the gryffindor common room and remus accidentally hurts the one he loves the most due to his little furry problem.

warnings: alcohol and people being drunk (not that much though), kissing aaaaaaand mentions of nausea. I thinks that’s all but tell me if I should add something more.

notes: hiiii!!! I claim myself to be a beginner writer so this is all just for fun!!

word count: 1.7k

remus lupin x gn!reader

The entire Gryffindor common room bustled with activity. The music streamed out of Sirius' record player (which is too loud if you ask Remus) and mingled together with the laughter and conversation that filled the air. Someone had even found a disco ball which now by the help of some spells floated above them scattering rainbow coloured specks of light over the walls.

As the night progressed and people got louder when the alcohol started to kick in he found himself alone in one of the many corners of the room. He would join in on the celebrations if his head wasn’t continuously pounding.

The remains of the full moon still lingered even though it was more than two days ago. By then he’s usually fine but for some reason he’s found himself in a bit of a predicament. Madam Pomfrey had ordered him to stay in bed and rest, try to avoid doing any schoolwork and not do anything that could risk overexerting him. But like many other times he didn’t listen and now suffered the dreadful consequences.

He winced as another wave of nausea streamed through him, furrowing his brows in pain. To the normal viewer he’s just trying to fight through his alcohol influenced headache and he likes that; he enjoys the fact that he can hide it. He’d much rather be dizzy with fire whiskey than the fact that he spends one night every month screaming in agony as his bones break to form a monster.

But unfortunately he cannot hide from everyone, at least not from you.

“Enjoying yourself?” You asked. Offering him a cigarette which he quickly rejected. Strange, you thought, he never says no to a cigarette.

Remus nods slightly, the movement causing his headache to vibrate behind his temples. “Quite.” He mumbles. Swallowing as he tries to fight back a groan.

Even though you care for him more than you’d like to admit, more than friends should like each other, you decide not to comment on his obvious lie. “Look at them,” you diverted the conversation to a completely different subject. Nodding your head in the direction of Sirius and James who were dancing wildly on top of a table. Both of them appear to know the lyrics to ABBA surprisingly well despite the fact that they’re both shitfaced.

“Bloody idiots.” He rumbles. His eyes fluttered close for only a brief moment trying to fight off the unbearable nausea.

No matter how much you want to save his pride, you also want to prioritize his well-being. And the way his face has lost all of its colour seems a bit alarming. “Too much alcohol?” You guess even though you already know the reason behind it.

A faint huff escapes his lips. “No, I wish.” He murmurs and pinches the bridge of his nose. His eyes still glued on his two drunk best friends, knowing he’ll do anything you want if he catches a glimpse of your worried frown.

You bite your lower lip faintly to stop yourself from commenting on his gloomy behaviour. So instead you shove one of your hands deeply into your pocket, your other hand still clutching your glass. “Wanna dance?” You hesitate and look back up at the young werewolf.

“No.” he mumbles. Still stubbornly avoiding your gaze.

“Pleeeaaaase?” You teased, a mischievous smile spreading across your face.

The two of you have always been like this. Teasing, bantering and the occasional playful argument. Because you understand and trust one another. Some might say you even love each other but unfortunately you’re both too oblivious to realise it.

He glances at you, the tightness in his chest growing larger for every second that passes by. “I’d really prefer it if you stopped talking to me right now.” Remus grumbles and unwillingly lets his headache speak for him.

Actually he always wants to be in your presence. Those kind and vulnerable words are just so difficult to convey. It’s so much easier to let the cruel words roll out of his mouth than express the feelings he’s bottled up inside of him for so long.

“Oh,” you trail off, eyes flickering hesitantly over his face. “Okay, I’ll go.” You whisper and take a sip from the strangely coloured drink Marlene gave you earlier. Grimacing when the bitter taste makes contact with your tastebuds.

He gives you a sideway glance. Slowly so that the movement won’t cause him any further distress. His eyes dart back to the honey coloured drink in his hand the second your eyes meet his, moving his hand just enough for the still untouched beverage to slosh around in his glass.

“No wait,” Remus beckoned before you started to leave, reaching out to place a light calloused hand on your shoulder. “I’m being a prick. Of course I want to be with you. M’ just a bit too tired to dance.”

His warm and familiar touch sparks a small flutter deep inside of your chest. Wondering if he can hear how fast your heart is thumping. Though you wouldn’t mind it if he could. Then maybe, finally, he’d realise how utterly in love you are with him.

Your eyes soften as you observe him, watching as he threads a trembling hand through his sandy brown locks. “Do you fancy going outside for a bit?” You suggest. You’re aware that you have all the reasons to be angry at his harsh words. But his face slightly scrunched up in agony makes it very difficult to feel anything but sympathy.

“Yeah,” he smiles even though his headache is still flashing hard and hot whenever he speaks, edging just a bit closer to you. “C’mon.” He urges, voice laced with a soft teasing rumble. He takes the glass out of your hand and places both yours and his drink on a nearby table and then extends his calloused hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he begins to tug you out of the crowded room.

You’re not certain what you meant by outside but the cold long hallway right outside of the Gryffindor common room was enough, the only source of light coming from a small wall mounted candle a few meters down.

James and Sirius drunken singing is now luckily cut off by the loud thump of the door as it closes. Remus sighs heavily, his heart pounding in his ears. Still holding onto your hand. “I was being a wanker.” he apologised again.

You lean back against the wall and drag him with you. Almost stumbling over his feet at the unexpected tug. “S’alright.” You reply quietly. Giving his hand a soft and gentle squeeze. “Just don’t do it again.” You add, brushing one of your fingers over his knuckles.

His breaths quickens, the ragged sound filling the quiet air. “I would dance with you.” He admits.

“Yeah?” You responded. Tilting your head teasingly to the side and giving his hand another small tug.

“Yeah.” He echoes and nods faintly. “I would. But y’know, my hip and uhm- my y’know, I have a headache.” His words stumbling out of his mouth. Not only does his headache make it a lot more difficult to talk but your presence seems to affect him as well.

He’s already made a fool out of himself by being extremely rude to the one he loves the most. Why does he have to lose his ability to speak on top of it all?

“I know, don’t worry.” You reassure him. Threading a hand through your hair with your free hand. Lowering your gaze when his chocolate coloured eyes meet yours.

Without noticing it himself his eyes quickly glues to your reddening cheeks, feeling his own face grow warmer. “I’ll make it up to you.” He blurts out, his gaze lowering down to your alluring lips. Quickly catching himself and looking back into your eyes with a sheepish smile.

“Make it up to me?”

He nods once again. A few loose strands of hair falling down in his eyes. “I could uhm-“ he trails off, clearing his throat. “Kiss you. I could kiss you.”

Your lips part slightly, suddenly aware of how close your bodies truly are. “What?” You croak out, a nervous chuckle making its way out of your lips. For some strange reason you couldn’t get out any more words, your tongue tangling inside of your mouth, stopping all of the things you wanted to say.

His skin grows even warmer and he reluctantly decides to let go of your hand. Pressing his clammy palms together. “Only if you want to of course.” He hesitates, shoving his hands down into his pockets. “I mean- I sort of got the impression that you like me. But it’s fine if you don’t. I’m just a werewolf and you’re perfect and lovely. I wouldn’t blame you-”

You try listening to his anxious rambling but the second he voices his concerns about his lycanthropy you decide to shut him up.

In one quick move your hand is suddenly on the back of his neck. Heart pounding terrifyingly fast as you guide him down into a kiss. A tingle washing down your back as you close the gap between your lips. Savouring the moment you’ve longed to experience ever since you first catched eyes on him.

At first he’s not sure what’s going on but the second his brain registers your soft touch he immediately reciprocates with a passion he wasn’t aware that he could conjure. Weaving your lips even further with his and pulling you closer tightly to his chest.

It’s better than anything you could’ve ever dreamed of. You had hoped that if you were to ever kiss him it wouldn’t be awkward and luckily it wasn’t. It’s like a familiar dance despite the fact that neither of you has practiced the choreography before.

When your lips reluctantly pull apart you’re both breathless, your foreheads still touching because you’re both afraid that if your bodies lose contact it’ll all turn out to be a dream.

“Are we even now?” Remus asks. Combing his hand through your hair.

“Definitely.” You chuckle breathlessly.

[caffinedragon]

Dante Ingelvar's LI is Emmerich.

Emmerich and his relationship is one of those actual true love relationships that come with knowing someone so completely that they know full well what they are getting into and they are perfectly fine with it.

The romantic and Sexual aspects of their relationship didn't fully developed until later in their lives but ever since they were young the two men loved each other very deeply and became eachother's safe space over the years.

Due to them essentally both becomeing teacher's at teh necropolis, Emmerich being a professot of the necromatic arts and Dante being the Martial Arts trainer, they don't get out on dates very often but when they do, Emmerich is the one who usually who plans it, mostly because DAnte knows how much he loves to go all out in romantic gestures and Dante is not very good at such things. Or at least not grand ones.

He tends to stick to more simple straight forward things, like going to the cafe they both like or spending a night in and cooking dinner, or buying a new book Emmerich was looking forward to reading.

When it comes to romantic gestures, Dante's only frame of reference is Emmerich the grand gestures he pulls and so, due to struggling with such things a.k.a. his attempts never working out, he is always worried that he won't be remoantic enough for Emmerich.

However, Emmerich only sets a high standard of romance for himself when ity come to gestures and often finds that he enjoys Dante's much more accidental and organic version of the same.

Which means, Dante is often romantic by accident.

For example, Dante is a man with his heart on his sleeve and will gush about Emmerich if given the oppurtunity. There isn't a person in or outside the necropolis that doesn't know they are together because of this. Not that Emmerich minds.

Secondary example is that Dante is very crow(as in the bird) like and often is a big gift giver. And so it is not unsual for Dante to come home from shopping, running excitedly up to Emmerich and go, "Hey, Babe, look what i got for you!" and then proceeding to go on a long explanation as to exactly why he bought it, reason inculding but not limited too...

You mentioned it in a conversation two weeks ago.

The color matches your eyes, hair, skintone, etc.

It reminded me of this time when...

And so on.

Every time he does this, despite Dante's own worries, never fails to make Emmerich melt into a puddle.

If they had unlimited time and money and no obligations, i believe the two of them would take a real sabbatical and then just not do a damn thing except each other and maybe go shopping or on a walk for a while.

They are both in their 50's and have lead very busy lives up to this point, they deserve it.

As for saying things, I can't really think of anything because Dante isn't one to hide his feelings unless he has reason. *Cough* Johanna *Cough*. Not too mention, Emmerich pretty much knows everything about Dante's life and he about his so, accept for the insecurities brought up in the game, there isn't anything.

As for family, they already did through Manfred.

My HC is that Dante helped find the pieces Emmerich ultimately built Manfred from and was his biggest hype man through the process. Even thoguh he couldn't help much on the magic side of things, his ability to sing wisps and spirits into bodies helped a great deal in tranfering the little curiosity wisp into the body they built.

Dante love Manfred as if he was his kid, just as Emmerich does and was often the only person Emmerich trusted to look after him when he had to go somewhere Manfred couldn't.

Beyond that, Dante himself is often responsible for more abandoned children to survive and over the years became a surrogate dad in the same way Vorgoth was to him.

So between them and Manfred, they already have one.

My HC for stuff they did that wasn't in the game?

Dante just completely crashing and using Emmerich's lap as a pillow, at every opportunity at the lighthouse.

All the naps. Always cuddled up to Emmerich in one way shape or form. Just all the snoozing.

Dante had very little sleep during the first section of the game due to a near constant state of overstimulation and stress. So, when Emmerich joins, one of the few people he feels safe being that vulnerable around, he constantly falls asleep on him like a cat.

And when he does, Emmerich makes sure that he isn't disturbed and often will not move until he wakes up on his own or there is an emergency.

Manfred is a very dutiful guard when this happens.

This is my Fav shot so far. I call it "Proud Dad's watching their son have the time of his life."

But since you can only see the back of my Rook i give you this one too for reference of what Dante looks like:

Rook Introduction Hour 2/14/25

Happy Valentine's Day! I hope everyone celebrating is having a wonderful time! 💞💖❣️🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏿👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽👨🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼💌🩵🫶🏼🥰💝💘❣️

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

🎶 L is for the way you look at me /O is for the only one I see /V is very, very extraordinary /E is even more than anyone that you adore! 🎶

Today's Question(s): NOW it's all about 💕Romantic love💕! Who is/are your Rook's LI(s)? Do they go on dates together frequently? Where do they like to go together? What's the most romantic thing that Rook's ever done for them? That they've ever done for Rook? If they had unlimited time and money, and no obligations, what would they do for each other? Is there anything Rook or their LI(s) want to say to each other that they haven't yet, for some reason? If they were to settle down together, would they want to start a family? Do you have any headcanons about anything they did together during the game that wasn't shown? And lastly, do you have any pictures of Rook and their LI(s) that you want to share?

Hopefully there are enough questions for everyone to find something they're excited about! Have fun, and thanks for sharing!

(Also, if you are looking for more DA themed Valentine's day content, taamlok made a new romance themed ask game, and corvus-frugilegus is sending silly valentines! And those of you playing on PC can also download the Veilguard of Love mod that metamancer-io made, and turn your Veilguard romantic! Hope you have fun!)

[electronicladyheart]

Luca changretta x reader

Choices, part2

Part 1

Warnings: Smut, oral(fem!recieving). That's it I think...

I was blushing so hard writing this.

(I really think Luca would be so sweet and soft with his lover despite what he does as a Mob.)

Luca Changretta had never been a man who allowed himself to want. Wanting was a weakness, an indulgence that could be exploited. But you.... you were different.

He had wanted you long before the war, before the bloodshed. Before your name became something whispered in meetings, before your family became his sworn enemies. And now, as he stood before you, rain clinging to his dark suit, his patience worn thin, Luca felt something rare curl in his chest.

Desperation.

He had given you time. Time to consider, time to weigh your choices. But it had been agony. He could control men, manipulate entire families, dictate life and death—but not you. Never you.

And so, he came back.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of the door as you met his gaze, wary, guarded. "You're impatient."

His lips quirked, though there was little amusement in his eyes. "I’ve waited long enough."

You hesitated, your heart hammering in your chest, but Luca could see it... the flicker of conflict, the way your breath caught in your throat when he took a step forward, the way your eyes darted to his lips before you looked away.

You wanted him too.

But you were afraid.

“Amore mio,” he murmured, reaching for you, his fingers skimming the bare skin of your wrist. His touch was reverent, almost hesitant. “Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

You inhaled sharply, but you didn’t pull away.

“Tell me you haven’t imagined it.”

His voice was low, coaxing, laced with something dark and sinful. Luca watched as your resolve wavered, as you fought against the undeniable pull between you. His hands came to cup your face, tilting it up so you had no choice but to look at him, to see the sincerity etched in every line of his face.

“I would give you everything,” he promised, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “A life you could never dream of, far from blood, far from war.” He paused, his eyes burning into yours. “And I would worship you, cara mia. Every night, every morning. You would never regret saying yes.”

Your breath hitched, and Luca knew then—he had you. You could lie to yourself, you could fight it, but this was inevitable. He had already claimed you, long before this moment.

Your lips parted, but no words came. Luca’s eyes dropped to your mouth, his grip tightening ever so slightly. He was holding back, restrained only by the thin thread of control he had left.

And then, finally, you whispered, “I don’t trust you.”

Luca exhaled sharply, his grip on you firm but gentle. “Then let me prove it.”

His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Marry me, and I will give you no reason to fear me. No reason to doubt me. Only a life where you belong to me, and I belong to you.”

A shudder ran through you, your hands finally coming up to rest against his chest. The war was still there, lurking in the background. But in this moment, under the weight of his gaze, it felt small.

Luca had won many battles. He had conquered men, cities, entire legacies.

But this... this was his greatest victory yet.

You.

And when your lips finally met his, when you surrendered with a whispered, breathless yes, he knew he would never let you go.

Your brothers didn’t try to stop the wedding. They could finally see a way out, a chance to end the bloodshed. For them, it was a reluctant peace. For Luca, it was the ultimate triumph.

The wedding was an extravagant affair, not for the world to see, but for him—for you. You stood before him, draped in white, a vision of something he had long craved but never allowed himself to believe he could have. As he slid the ring onto your finger, Luca wasn’t thinking of war, or power, or vengeance. He was thinking only of you. Of how you were his now.

And he would make sure to keep you.

That night, as he held you close, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns along your bare skin, he whispered, “You don’t know what you’ve done to me, amore.” His voice was thick with something raw, something unrestrained. “I thought this was about the war, about power, but it was never about that. It was always about you.”

You swallowed hard, shivering under the intensity of his gaze, his hands roaming, claiming. “And what happens now?”

Luca smirked, but there was something dark, possessive in his expression. He dragged his lips along your jaw, trailing down to your throat, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. “Now? Now, I show you that this wasn’t just a deal.” His hands slid lower, gripping, pulling you flush against him. “This was fate.”

You didn’t know if you believed in fate. But as he pushed you back against the bed, as his lips descended on yours with a hunger that made your knees weak, you knew one thing for certain.

Luca Changretta had won.

And he was never letting go.

Luca's lips crashed against yours with a fervor that stole your breath, his hands sliding possessively down your curves as he lowered you onto the plush silk sheets.

His hand moved to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your dress, making you arch against him. "Do you know what this means," he whispered against your neck, "being married to a Changretta? Being married to me ?" His touch was both gentle and commanding, making your heart race.

"It means you're mine, completely. And I intend to worship every inch of my wife's body." His fingers traced the edge of your wedding dress, slowly pushing the material down your shoulders, revealing more of your smooth skin. .

"Every..." he murmured, kissing along your collarbone, "single..." another kiss below your ear, "inch..." His fingers traced the hem of your dress, slowly gathering it higher, revealing more of your thigh.

"You have no idea how many times I imagined this moment, laying you out on my bed and taking what's mine." He nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent as his fingers hooked into the straps of your dress.

"I've waited so long to have you like this. Soft. Yielding. All to myself." His lips found yours again, this time with a languid hunger, his tongue exploring your mouth with deep, deliberate strokes as his hands continued to hike up your dress, revealing your lacy panties.

Luca pulled back only long enough to strip you out of your dress and toss it aside, his gaze roaming over your bare skin with intense admiration. "You're fucking exquisite," he breathed, leaning down to kiss your stomach, his hands sliding up your arms to pin your wrists above your head.

"Keep them there," he ordered, his voice low and commanding as he began to trail kisses down your body, his hands trailing heat along your sides.

He kissed you again. Luca's mouth moved lower, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your sternum, in between your breasts, before capturing one taut peak.

You gasped as his tongue swirled around your nipple, eliciting a deep moan from you. He pulled it between his teeth, sucking gently.He switched to the other breast, giving it equal attention, making you arch your back with pleasure. "God, you're responsive," he murmured against your skin.

His hands slid to your thighs, spreading them gently as he settled between them."Perfect," he breathed, spreading your legs wider to fit between them. He nuzzled his face between your thighs, inhaling your scent deeply. "So perfect..." He used his thumbs to part your folds, exposing you further to his hot breath. "And all mine."

His tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time, making you cry out and grip the sheets above your head. "So sweet," he murmured against your sensitive flesh, licking deeper. "My sweet little wife."

Luca wrapped his arms around your legs, holding them open as he buried his face between your spread legs, devouring you hungrily. His tongue laps at your wetness, circling around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. His name fell from your lips on a broken cry.

"That's it," he growled against you, "say my name again while I make you come." His tongue stroked you in long, steady movements, while one hand slid up your stomach to cup your breast. Your hips lifted involuntarily, meeting each stroke of his tongue, feeling yourself losing control.

"Luca..." you whimpered, your body tensing as you felt the pleasure building too quickly. He could feel it too, his fingers digging into your thighs possessively as he held you open wider. "Look at me," he ordered, lifting his head briefly to give the command.

Your eyes fluttered open, hazy with lust, locking onto Luca's molten gaze. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit mercilessly, pushing you towards the edge. "You're going to come on my tongue like a good little wife,"

Luca growled those words against your sensitive clit before sucking it back into his mouth, sending jolts of intense pleasure through your core. His tongue moved relentlessly, bringing you to the brink as he maintained eye contact, commanding your orgasm with nothing but his heated gaze and skilled mouth.

"Yes," he hissed against you, feeling your walls ripple and quiver. His fingers tightened on your legs as he pulled you closer, pressing his mouth to your pulsing clit. Your loud moans filled the room as he pushed you over the edge, consuming your first orgasm as his wife with greedy hunger.

Luca slowly lifted his head, his lips glistening wet with your juices as he crawled up your body with a smug, satisfied grin. "That was fucking gorgeous," he murmured, capturing your lips in a deep, dirty kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

You could feel his hardness pressed against your thigh, his body shaking with need as he hovered over you. "Need to be inside you right now," he growled, breaking the kiss to murmur hotly into your ear. "But I don't want to rush this. I've waited too fucking long."

He trailed hot kisses down your neck as his hands roamed your body, squeezing your curves possessively. "Want to savor this," he murmured against your collarbone, "take my time with this sweet little body that belongs to me now." His voice was filled with reverence and hunger for you.

And he did indeed take his time...

[dxmedstudent]

I have my 6 month review coming up. I can't believe it's already been 6 months of being a real grown up completely qualified doc.

They say the first 5 years are the hardest - because you have to adapt to making a lot of independent decisions on your own, and because no matter how much we learned for our specialist exams, you can't really learn everything.

I'm enjoying it so far. I'm slow, so dealing with the admin and keeping to time is my personal weakness. But looking at my fellow recent FPs that's pretty universal across the board.

I do wonder what else to work on going forward. I'm making a deliberate effort not to over exert myself right now in terms of taking on a bigger role like students or more specialised clinics - in part because I may need to keep some of my "free time" clear for health reasons. I promised myself I would just get used to running an independent clinic before committing myself to more work. Because 30+ clinic patient contacts and its assiciated admin, 40+ blood tests, 40-100 prescriptions and up to 10 letters a day is enough to be getting along with.

I'm tempted to think about taking on students because I miss teaching. And I miss practical procedures like fitting implants. I'm intetested in training to fit coils, also in making sure patients get appropriate analgesia for these procedures, as long as my clinic would let me run it. But I have to make sure i have the time to do it.

Going back to my review, I worked here previously as a trainee for a whole year, and they offered me the job before I even applied. Like most of my colleagues, I have a small army of patients wanting to see me specifically because I've worked to build a rapport with them and listen. It's an area with its fair share of challenges. So in theory I know that the senior team kniw me well enough to know I put in the work.

Despite that, my brain is STILL like "but what if someone has some kind of secret beef with you and thinks you are incompetent?" 😣

It's strange having a forever job - in theory I could stay here for the rest of my working life. I've never had that before. With rotational training you're basically committed to moving jobs every 4-6 months, and even most trust grade or fellowship jobs are 6 months or a year at best. You get used to being shunted between different specialities, different hospitals and different towns.

So whether they like you or don't, you never really have to worry about staying. Which is sad when you like where you work, and great when you hate it.

[mcytegg]

woke up at 12 am and all i can think abt the empire and the sticklers like im sorry but i am so not normal abt their alliance it means the entire world to me.....

like especially the trust JUMPER has in the empire. ive been chewing through her s6 vods and the speed at which she went from fearing and wanting revenge bc they killed her and ro to her trusting them and wanting them to trust her was actually crazy

and this is all bc mapicc and minute chased clown away from her base bc he was hunting her down and she had no one else to protect her w her team offline. like yeah other people like zam and pangi were on but realistically how can they fight a clownpierce when zam was, at that point, a pacifist and pangi is pangi? /lh

them choosing to help jumper that day changed soooo much, it led to her warning the empire of her and reks silly end portal prank and warning them abt her trap,, and her taking direct action to build a bridge between their two teams which was both only possible bc yk. mapicc and minutes inherent bias for some people on the team ANDDDD their sense of honour when it comes to who they choose to fight

like as much as the empire WANTS to be the bad guys this season, its quite funny how they just ARENT (yet) bc they have actual honour and morals in comparison to the blindfold bandits (flame, mane, wemmbu, and pentar i believe) who have been terrorizing the server, especially low heart players, since the beginning.

bc like choosing to protect jumper from clown was just...THE most minute and mapicc thing ever like theyre both just like that; i dont think either of them see any purpose behind terrorizing and hunting players like jumper, pangi, squiddo, etc who both dont really involve themselves in pvp and who dont HAVE the capability to fight back if theyre jumped by someone w like 20 hearts

like dont get me wrong theyll attack players who are weaker than them, theyre not moral and faultless people, like minute killing sb for a heart, mapicc wanting to kill kab for a heart bc he thinks she has too many (before he hit 20 hearts), etc but those are players who have CHOSEN to involve themselves in pvp and to kill other players—

and im crying wait i hate devotion duo so fucking bad bc ive just now realized mapiccs standards for players he will kill vs ones he deems needing his protection if he knows theyre being hunted by like mane, clown, or wemmbu is literally identical to ZAMS own standards for players he will involve himself in conflict for vs those he wont (aka innocent players vs those who choose to involve themselves in Situations)

anyways! im just yapping atp but idc. yeah so mapicc and minutes inherent sense of honour in regards to fighting and pvp on top of hopperclock-duality friendship buff from previous season(s) has lead to one of the most interesting alliances ever like if u could not tell i love and adore this alliance so very much bc the foundation of it is trust and friendship rather than power or how they can benefit one another

they have common enemies for sure, but a lot of what they do doesnt even really involve fighting or conflict. its mostly just spending time together and being silly likeeee jumper and spokes silly4silly friendship, ro helping mapicc stalk zam, chief refusing to trap/kill rek after chat asks bc theyre buddies, etc etc

i really desperately want to see them interact and do more together bc i just wanna see both teams login more ngl but i'd also like to see them just have fun TOGETHER like they did during the pangi wipe out recording during that one session a few weeks ago yk,, i also hope the empire will involve the sticklers in whatever shit they have planned for january bc they allegedly have some evil, devious things planned when minute is more free / available for life steal

i actually just have no idea what im saying anymore ngl ive been typing for over an hr but tysm if u read me yapping abt the empire and the sticklers. it will happen again. /threat

[timlucys]

potentially unpopular opinion but that 7x04 end scene would've hit a lot harder if they didn't do that whole bet plot

[randomnameless]

More about a certain beast masquerading as a human -

Teaspoon translation hasn't gotten to that point yet, so I'll keep on checking but in her expedition dialogues with Barney, Flayn goes :

Is there something amiss with my face? I like to think my features are of a similar and pleasing proportion.

Traditional reaction from a character who is stared at by the avatar.

In JP though...

わたくしの顔、何か変でしょうか？　目も 鼻も口も、皆さんと同じだと思うのですが

(years of reading naruto raw scans made me recognise 目 lol)

Google'd it goes like this :

Is there something strange about my face? My eyes, nose, and mouth are the same as everyone else's

Sure, you can interpret it as Flayn saying she's like everyone else aka has "similar proportion" to everyone else... but with the context - and giving how Flayn doesn't mention her ears at all! - it's much more interesting that despite being a "creature masquerading as a human", Flayn desperatly wants to be seen (to continue masquerading!!!!) as someone who isn't strange, but we could also infer that she is worried about her nature and appearance : she's not strange, after all, she is pretty similar to a human!

Which leads to the second point :

It makes me very happy indeed to know that you think of me as a friend

わたくしのことを、お友達だと思って くれているなら嬉しいのですが……

It's more or less (according to GT) the same thing, but note Flayn's ellipse, she'd be happy if Barney - out of anyone - would consider her to be a friend. Is she doubtful that it would never happen because she knows Barney has ties to Agarthans? Or she is just afraid that she cannot make friends with humans, because she's not one of them?

That friend thing is developed in her exploration lines :

Ask about their friends.: Do you think the others consider me as one of their friends? 皆さんはわたくしのことを、仲間だと 思ってくれているのでしょうか……？

She feels insecure about how she is perceived by the others, aka the members of the AG cast - even if she joined their ranks and has been fighting with them!

(it almost makes me think of a scenario where she joins a class, then her Leader ask her to stop having power over humans and says she should have been comatose somewhere else instead of wanting to reunite with her family, after organised her abduction and exsanguination, so she leaves that class, but her former classmates - who participated in her rescue mission - can now kill her because they believe she is a monster and a cruel beast without any regard for human life. Her life would suck in that scenario!)

Long story, short story : Flayn wishes to make friends with humans (and even agarthans, if she knows about Barney!) but is still worried that they will shun her, or straight up refuse to befriend her if she is perceived as different (or if her identity is revealed).

I guess both games could have tackled that issue - especially in her supports with two lords - but that would mean ditching your pot of Hresvelg Grey, and we can't have that.

Instead, we have a very fine cup of tea, while Flayn gets reduced screentime by virtue of being associated to Rhea, who is BaD bcs she exists.

[gayofthefae]

Here's the thing about season 3. Nothing was a secret. There was no lining or buildup. They cleared up the miscommunication in episode 4 and she stood by breaking up with him anyways.

From there, just like I say about Will's feelings being unreciprocated, the problem is unactionable, so there's no lesson and nothing for us to root for.

Mike wants to get back together with El. She knows that. Nothing happens.

The L bomb was dropped as a false sense of momentum, because there actually wasn't any because him not saying it wasn't the problem so it shouldn't be the solution. Usually you have pining. Think the full season breakup story they did the following season:

There was pining. There was investment from US. Because there was setup for confession. Because something was withheld to be revealed. "You know I really like you but you don't know I love you" does not count. Lucas didn't know Max wanted to get back together. They had been broken up long enough and Lucas was respectful enough that Max couldn't be sure either. That setup investment for the notes passing scene. That set up his NERVES in it. That set up me being excited when I saw their first kiss in her 4x04 happy memories sequence. And satisfied to have predicted the Snow Ball as her happiest memory. If Max had known he definitely wanted to get back together as soon as she was ready again and wasn't going to move on at all, there would be no stakes.

Mike wanted to be with El. Then she didn't want to be with him. She can't have the nerves of confessing to him she wants to get back together because she already knows he does. He can't have the nerves of confessing he wants to because he already has. And they didn't establish them as friends solidly or for long enough like they did by establishing that Lucas and Max had ALREADY broken up as opposed to a 6 day breakup arc to make it so that they became unsure of what they once knew to me true of getting back together. Severity of wording changed and El loves romantic tropes in movies so it had influence but really:

Mike had no information to add that El didn't already have. El had nothing stopping her giving Mike information as soon as she had it. There were no stakes. So I didn't care. Whatever happened, cute. That was my thought process. But I had no real investment anymore, unlike when they were building to confession or fighting to get back to each other, because I knew as soon as she wanted to get back together they just automatically would be. So if you, like you were meant to, believed that Mike loved El and knew that she knew that, that scene where she said it back was cute. But not satisfying.

There is nothing to be resolved. We're watching events take place sequentially. Because when there are no stakes, there's no real goal either. Mike invented one for himself because he was uncomfortable with the idea of how comfortable he was broken up.

Tldr: Mike and El's relationship had no secrets and therefore no stakes or opportunity for confession in season 3. El telling Mike she loved him was cute, but not a "confession". Because, just like Mike telling her he loves her in 4x09, if we (think we) know how the other person is feeling and will react, we can't at all invest in the feelings of nervousness or satisfaction that the confessor is feeling.

Season 3 and 4 uninvested us by feigning plots in which they gave us no new information. And bored us. If you know exactly how a scene will play out all but exact wording, you will space out because you can. A writer never wants you to be able to space out and miss nothing. (Until they don't want you to miss what's happening when they take it away)

[katyspersonal]

[dez-wade]

Insaneduo is ironically the only thing saving me from insanity

Thank you for existing and also giving me the amazing divorcee dynamic.

[skippingseaglass]

the world is kinder than i think it is isn't it?