#how I grew up and chose observance….. incredible honestly

[harlowtales]

Reader is Jack’s personal assistant and things turn into more but they have to hide it.

***18+ smut/light romance****

“Good morning Jack” you whispered kissing his arm around you and caressing his smooth skin.

“Huh?” Jack said confused as he was just waking up and was still inside you from the side. He hadn’t completely pulled out yet from last-night. All of a sudden he shot up and pulled out of you abruptly. “I gotta get back to the couch! My parents can’t find me in here like this!” He started hurriedly putting on his clothes. First frantically trying to find his underwear and jumping into his sweatpants. He had his tshirt halfway over his head with his curls popping out as he ran out and closed the door as quietly as he could.

“What a goofball.” You thought fondly. Last night was incredible. Jack snuck into your room as you were visiting his parents with him for the weekend. His penthouse was being renovated so he was staying with his parents for a bit. You had got the job as his personal assistant just 6months ago. Neelam was burnt out so she needed some help with all of Jack’s more personal needs like managing his schedule and making sure he ate properly, worked out, got rest and his surroundings were generally healthy for him. You managed his home and generally keep things good in his world. But feelings developed.

Jack wound up in the hospital with a serious virus he caught on tour in Asia and came back very sick. You were the one that called the doctor as he was writing it off as a mild cold. You dropped everything and tended to him, even canceling a vacation you had planned. That’s when he knew it was more than work for him.

He always thought you were cute, kinda brainy and that turned him on….a lot. Neelam felt you were the best for the job and she knew Jack would like you as well, but she could never guess it would turn into this. As you laid in bed your mind went back to the first time you got the feeling something was up... “Jack I honestly don’t see it, you said fully bent over with your ass up and your face looking under the kitchen cabinet to find his earring that he said fell out of his ear and rolled under.

“Ah look I found it!” He said laughing “How da fuk did it get in my pocket?” He just wanted a good view of your ass so he could fantasize about having you in that position on the kitchen floor. The look he gave you afterwards gave you a weird feeling. He was always playing games like that, but lately it was different. It’s like he was trying to communicate something without saying it.

“Ok Mr.!” You said in that school principal way that got him hot. “No more games for you, you have a Zoom interview in 30mins!” You said pointing at the lunch you just made him. Neelam and his trainer EJ said everything had to be healthy. “And no sneaking snacks!” Jack shot you a look as he ate his plain salad with an unhappy look on his face. Just then you heard a notification on the computer, his interview was about to start. “Ok, finish up, they’re messaging me.” You said. “I’ll get on with them first and let them know to sit tight for a bit, ok?” You said warmly. Damn he was cute. There was no getting around that and you were very professional not letting your fandom get in the way of doing a good job. That’s why Neelam chose you. “Yes hi, I am his assistant.” You said to the interviewer on the Zoom in your most business-like tone trying to gather yourself after Jack’s shenanigans. You made sure everything in the background was just right as the house got pretty messy during the week with all of his friends coming around. Jack marvelled at how you took care of everything around him and grew to have a great affection for you that he didn’t want to make it awkward and tell you. “So I’m just making sure this is how long? Because he has another thing to get to.” He didn’t, but you wanted him to rest up for the gala later that night.

Jack was secretly observing you buzz around and make sure he was at his best. That every little thing in his day went right. That you cared so much, not about your job, but him. He could feel it. The way you spoke to him with care or even scolded him was making him see you in another way. He couldn’t imagine how he had made it without you before. Since you joined the team he was so much more at ease. He even stopped needing so many therapy sessions. He especially loved the conversations you’d have in the evening when he was in town on a break and was not even leaving the house much. He came to crave those times. You just had a knack for making his life normal. He loved your cooking, the way you kept the house tidy, and didn’t stress him out when he came home. If something bothered you, you said so but didn’t invent drama. You were in fact what he was looking for in a wife.

“Do you have any children?” He asked you one day randomly as he was watching soccer on the couch with his feet propped up and you were beside him on your laptop organizing him for the next day. “Huh?” You looked up distractedly. Your hair slightly disheveled from running around behind him all day. It made him think of how you would look after having you on your back and being inside of you. Increasingly he had sex dreams about you and acting completely normal was getting more and more difficult. With you next to him on the couch he had to conceal that he was becoming aroused.

“Um no silly” you said playing punching him in the arm. “Your my kid” you laughed.

“Oh really? I’m no kid trust me. This is all 100% grown ass man right here.” He said “All grown.” He repeated wistfully as he moved a lock of your hair that had fallen into your face.

“Jack…what are you doing?” You said half-hopeful that he was doing what you knew he was doing. “I…I need to finish your schedule” You weakly protested as you swallowed nervously

“Then finish my schedule.” He said nestling his nose in your neck and gently just touching your skin with his full lips. “Don’t let me distract you.” He said as he now started fondling your breast through your shirt. “You never once thought about this?” He said as his hands started to travel all over your body and he pressed closer to you. “Why don’t you close this?” He said as he closed the laptop you we’re hoping would protect you. “Get that off your lap and get on mine.” He commanded

“I am fuking dreaming right now!” You said in your head, but you said to him “Jack.. Neelam would freak out. I’ll lose my job” You said leaning back for it to happen more.

“Don’t worry about Neelam we just act like it’s all good when she’s around.” He said. “I really like you. All the girls in my world are fake. You’re the real deal. I couldn’t get along without you, and I never want to be without you.” He said going in more seriously on your body. He now had his hand travelling up your dress. “And who told you to wear a sundress around the house. Hmmmm?” He asked you furrowing his brow and biting his lip that made you crazy. He started working to get your panties off and feel if you were as excited as him. “So much for not wanting to lose your job. look at all this” he said holding up perfectly manicured fingers to reveal your cum dripping down them. “Hmmm? What’s all this missy?” He said as he made you suck his fingers with your juices on them. You sucked on them so good he went crazy “Oh shit” he said softly “This pussy has to be good.” You were fully in his lap like he demanded and he pulled off his underwear as you kissed him and stuck it straight inside you giving your ass a hard slap. “Ride me.” He said holding your ass to feel it go up and down as he moaned in pleasure he nonchalantly put his hands behind his head watching you ride hard. His sexy laid back attitude and slight grin made you insane. Within minutes you reached a screaming climax and collapsed onto him, breathing heavy in his ear. “Holy shit.” He said “You’re a freak.” Delighted at his new discovery.

You got off him and slithered down his body until you got between his legs. You opened your mouth wide and took all of him into your mouth. His rock hard cock hitting the back of your throat. “Geezus Christ.” He moaned loudly. After some time swirling your lips around the tip to sliding down it as far back as it would go Jack couldn’t contain himself anymore and held your head down as he throbbed and released all he had to give. Cum dripped down your mouth as you swallowed most of it. You rested your head on his inner thigh out of breath and looked up at him. “When do you want to get married?” He joked gently smoothing out your hair, but he was definitely getting those feelings. You snapped out of reminiscing as you heard Maggie call upstairs for you.

You crept down the stairs to the kitchen to find Jack’s mom Maggie busy in the kitchen. Jack was sitting at the table devouring some eggs. “Ah, good morning!”His mom said happy to see you. “Sit sit! Breakfast is hot!” She said pointing to a huge plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast.

“Mom for Fuck sakes! She can’t eat all that.” Jack said laughing.

“Watch your mouth.” His dad said sternly from the livingroom

“It’s ok Jack.” You said admiring his messy bed head. “I love eggs, it’s nice to not have to make them!”

“So you cook for Jack too?” Maggie asked wide eyed. “What do you not do for my little bozo.” She said looking at her son affectionately and ruffling his messy hair. “Hunny wear your bonnet your hair is dry and tangled” she chided

Jack moved his head so his mom would stop with her comments. You enjoyed watching him interact with his family. He was just a regular guy and they treated him as such. In fact, everyone in Louisville did. “Oh trust me mom. She takes care of me.” He said shooting a look at you with a side smile. “She gets the job done and there’s nothing she doesn’t do.”

You blushed looking down at your plate pretending to be intensely interested in your eggs. Maggie had no idea what Jack was really saying or what happened in her house last night.

@heavyhitterheaux @itsyagirljaz @jacks-daycare @jackmans-poison @jackharloww @killatravtramp @angelbae05 @comehomeimissyou @hotsforharlow @hoodharlow @harlowsbby @harlowgifs

[sugamamacustard]

Feral Animal

Pairing:  Alpha! Kentarou Kyoutani x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request:  Hi! I love your abo blog! I was wondering if you could write about Alpha!Kyotani with an Omega!Reader, where their first encounter catches everyone by surprise? Like, Reader has a traditionally alpha scent (like burning/smokey wood) and can usually get away with being mistaken as an alpha at first glance? It’s fine if you’re asks are full or you don’t want to do this but thanks for your time 😊 —Sno

Summary:  You just wanted to get the boys to practice on time. You weren’t prepared to deal with this.  Good thing you had a gaurdian angel- or should we say, dog. 

Author’s Note: I love Kyoutani so much. Like he’s in my top three people I simp for. 

Requests: Open!

Kentarou Kyoutani

➵ No one gathered in your way when walked down the hall. You smelt strong enough to put them on edge. 

➵ Peoples hackles were constantly raised when you were around, and truthfully, you didn’t know why. 

➵ You were still you. You were still an omega. 

➵ You still ached to reach out for touch, to scent someone, to just have the smallest bit of attention from anyone that wasn’t Iwaizumi.

➵  You and he had met when you were young, and he took to being your personal guardian—since he was a year older than you.

➵  You were thankful for him and his friendship, but that was all it would ever be. You both tried dating in your first year of middle school (Dating being a loose term), but it was obvious you were better off as friends. 

➵ You both still hung out constantly though, and eventually he grew to be an older brother to you.

➵  When you got to high school though, you quickly realized that with Iwaizumi came Oikawa. You had known him just as you had known Iwaizumi, but the other male seemed to keep his distance from you.

➵ It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he was keeping his distance with you. When you and Iwaizumi explained to him there was nothing between the two of you, nor would there ever be, he calmed down. 

➵ The fellow omega (Oikawa is an omega ass bottom change my mind. Unless it comes to requests. Then he’s an alpha for you :D) grew to be close with you as well and if one or the other was being idiotic you stepped in as the shoulder to cry on. 

➵ You were happy for them, truly, but you knew sooner or later you were going to be out of the picture.

➵  They were third years, and you were a second year. They had a relationship that ran deeper than any thing you could offer them.

➵ And that was okay.

➵ Facing the obvious, it’s clear that, because your best friends are those two dorks, you’re into volleyball. Or in the very least, know of it and how to play. Because of this, you’re elected manager.

➵  No more choice. 

➵ You don’t fawn over Oikawa constantly, you can handle Iwaizumi’s outbursts, you were calm with the first years, and you don’t put up with any fan girl’s bullshit. 

➵ You didn’t get the chance to refuse honestly.

➵ “I’m sorry, but unfortunately, Oikawa-Senpai is busy at the moment- “

➵ “Please, just- Let me see him! I won’t be long!” The Alpha pleaded, trying to appease to your sense of empathy. Unfortunately for her, that was dried up before the second girl even looked at you to ask the very same thing. 

➵ You were tired of girls, obviously not getting the hint, trying to confess their undying love to Oikawa every other day. How did they not see he was an Omega? 

➵ Yeah, he had suppressants out the wahzoo but, good golly, his mannerisms were all Omega.  

➵ Apparently this alpha though her and Oikawa would be the ultimate power couple.

➵ “Like I said before, he is busy. Any time you take up is time wasted.” You snorted, turning tail and shutting the gym door, ignoring the screech of anger behind it. You were used to it.

➵  Most times you locked them out, they’d throw a bitch-fit, turn and bad-mouth you to their friends for a few days. 

➵ They’d tease you for your scent—which was a, frankly lovely, pinewood and amber scent—and poke fun at you, saying how ‘you’ll never get an alpha smelling stronger than them” with a sneer. You’ve learned to ignore those types of girls.

➵ What you didn’t expect however, was for her to scream some more, banging on the metal door.

➵  It was ripped open in your moment of shock, making you turn on your heel to face her. 

➵ Her hair, though still relatively upkept, was frizzy with fly-a way’s running out occasionally, but her eyes were what scared you. 

➵ They were constricted to ball point bulbs that were locked onto you, fangs poking out as she snarled at you.

➵ Of course. Because why wouldn’t a feral Alpha be part of your day today?

➵ You growled yourself, trying to reign in your scent but it was getting harder and harder as she stalked closer.

➵ No one else was in the gym, as they were changing in the club room, but you figured you could handle her.

➵ You hoped at least.

➵ She tried pouncing on you, your arms quickly crossing in front of your face to shield yourself, but instead of an angry alpha trying to claw your eyes out, you merely got a gust of wind.

➵   Peeking open an eye—you couldn’t recall closing them, but whatever—you frowned at the face staring back at you.

➵  You hadn’t talked to him, personally, but you knew who he was. Kentarou Kyoutani. 

➵ He was incredibly strong, a worthy advisory, and worst of all…

➵ A ticking time-bomb of an alpha.

➵ He had the resting bitch face to end all resting bitch faces, and the attitude to go with it. He had only said one word to you ever and it was ‘move’. His voice was gruff and angry when he said it, but his eyes softened when you looked up at him. 

➵ He waited patiently for you to gather your things before moving. That was the first, and what you thought, last time you’d ever see the alpha. He entranced you though, so you wouldn’t ever necessarily be opposed to seeing him again. 

➵ Just maybe not in this circumstance.

➵ Kyoutani held the alpha by the collar of her shirt, his lips poked up in a snarl with his canines gleaming dangerously in the sunlight

➵ . Contrary to popular belief, he’d only ever gone feral once in his life. His stepfather, an awful, awful, excuse for an alpha had raised a hand to his Mama.

➵  He refused to let anyone ever raise a hand to omega that day and stuck to his grits with it.

➵  Many people often feared him because of his careful eye and quick reflexes. 

➵ They claimed he was close to going feral because they never cared to admit they were planning on hurting someone. He didn’t care.

➵ At least he didn’t. When he saw you simply turn and close the gym door, he felt his heart skip a beat. 

➵ Maybe it was just the fact that you didn’t relent, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t care or bend or submiss in the absolute slightest, or maybe it was the waft of the most calming scent he’s ever smelt before.

➵  He knew the other alpha’s scent, as she had practically reeked all over him while asking him for things Oikawa liked before he snapped on her, so this was all you. And he…liked it. 

➵ He hated scents that were too sweet or too ‘exciting’ in a way, but this? This was calming and euphoric all in one and he wanted to straight up bathe in it.  It smelt that good.

➵ He watched the alpha screech, stomping her foot—he could guess she was the very definition of daddy’s girl with her reaction to being told ‘no’—and before he could growl at her to leave, she was forcing open the door and snarling. 

➵ So, he dropped his bag and ran to make sure you were okay. His alpha pawing at him to hurry up. 

➵ He had felt the very same as they day he ran his stepfather out of his life, but this time…This time, he would be sure not to go feral. That would scare you and he couldn’t, wouldn’t risk that.

➵ When he got there, the alpha lunged and he had barely enough time to grab her. You looked shocked to see him, or maybe it was residue from when she broke into the gym, but you didn’t say anything.

➵  He took that as a good sign, turning tail and dragging her to where he dropped his bag. He grabbed it quickly, instead dropping her and rushing back to the gym.

➵  You closed the door behind him, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa quickly locking it. In the time, between Kyoutani dragging out the feral alpha you had the chance to text Iwaizumi, sending choppy and shaky, but succinct, messages to let him know what was going on.

➵  The rest of the team were on their way anyway, so they merely hurried their steps. When they turned to lock the door, you stopped them, crying for them to just wait for a minute.

➵ Kyoutani had run in seconds after your plea and the door was quickly shut. 

➵ Scents were going insane in the gym, but his was most discernible to you. He smelt scared.

➵  Before anyone had a chance to mention it though, he was turning to you and reaching for your face.

➵ you flinched but that didn’t stop him. His fingers were gentle, more so than you could expect from him, and he was so soft while turning your face to observe the damage. Iwaizumi tried to get close, but he was growled at as you were held to Kyoutani’s chest. 

➵  The team could only watch, flabbergasted, as you were hugged and scented by their mad dog. Even more so when you began laughing and purring, placing your hands around his neck.

➵  You whispered something (They were ‘Thank you’ and appreciation whispers) into his ear, making his shoulders visibly relax. No one could really understand what had happened, but they weren’t sure if they wanted to question it just yet.

➵ Well, most of team didn’t at least.

➵ “Aw, Mad dog-Chan! How do you know our little Chibi-chan?” Oikawa laughed, leaning off Iwaizumi as he spun a volleyball on his pointer finger.  

➵ Kyoutani grunted, abruptly pulling away, only to growl and pull you back when his alpha snarled. “Don’t.”

➵ “Wait- wait, wait. Hold on.” Hanamaki snorted, holding his hands up. “So you, Mad dog, most vicious alpha this side of the equator, just decided fuck it, and chose to not only save an omega you’ve never met, but then hog her? I don’t know, Mattsun, seems kind of sus to me.”

➵ “Very sus.” Matsukawa agreed, snickering. He yelped however, when Kyoutani turned to snarl at him, only for you to hold him back. Matsukawa had never felt more scared for his life in that very moment, and he owed you a whole ass chapel.

➵ It stayed like that for the rest of the practice, with you calming Kyoutani down ever time he needed a ‘time out’ and over time he got much better at controlling his anger.

➵ No one was surprised when you walked in two weeks later, a small, thin leather choker clipped on around your neck with a hand-made moon charm hanging from it.

[wedreamedlove]

Mo Yi in Love - Character Study

I just read Mo Yi's [SSR Brewing Thoughts] card and, not only am I an emotional mess, but I also hit an epiphany regarding understanding his character and now I have to write about this. I know I'm going to repeat this at the end, but understand that Mo Yi is just a man who wants his first love to be his last love and who has relatable fears over failure, haha.

SPOILERS go up to chapter 3 of Mo Yi's personal route, [SSR Brewing Thoughts], [SR Fake Tears], [SSR Dangerous Invitation], and reveal Mo Yi's family background. In addition, while the lines are in order, I chose to remove some descriptions to keep things shorter.

First, I want to talk about Mo Yi's view towards love.

It's really positive, which is ironic given his background and what he grew up around. However, he's always been a rational person and the object or feeling itself has no crime, it's what people choose to do with it that matters.

[Personal Route Ch.1]

MY: True love brings light and hope to life and makes a person better and better.

MY: At any time, you could meet with that person who would make you a better person, but you may not be aware of it at the time.

[Personal Route Ch.3]

MY: Alright, quiet... What everyone here has said is all "love".

MY: Love itself is a concept that cannot be clearly defined because, for every person, their feelings and preferences are different.

MY: So, this student here, I apologize sincerely but I may not be able to give you an accurate answer.

Student: Professor, what do you feel is love then?

MY: Me...?

Mo Yi faintly smiled.

His eyes passed through the sea of people and met mine.

MY: To me, it is a unique miracle.

MY: She makes me unable to control wanting to investigate, to touch, and to figure out everything.

MY: There are even times where, for a short moment, I am unable to distinguish the divide between reason and emotion.

MY: In this world, there are too many people who are fair on the outside but foul on the inside, however there will always be that one person...

MY: She will make you become better, make you believe everything is wonderful, make you start to look forward... to the future.

Look, he's an utter romantic! But, like I mentioned above, he's also a rational person and he needs to make sure that this love is The One for him.

Second, what's important to mention here is his view on Love At First Sight because that's what he admits to himself that he has for his heroine.

However, he has a huge scar about Love At First Sight because of the tragedy that was his parents. His father, a nobleman, and his mother, a foreign woman from a background of scholars, fell in love with each other at first sight. However, due to his father's poor handling of the church in his country, which basically denied their relationship unless Mo Yi's mother converted to their religion, Mo Yi's mother left his father and his father lost the love of his life and has been regretting it to this day.

So, what does he think about Love At First Sight?

[Personal Route Ch.2]

MY: ...Personally, I believe in "love at first sight".

Student: Really? I thought someone rational and calm like you wouldn't believe in this sort of illusion.

MY: "Love at first sight" has uncertain factors, but that doesn't mean its existence itself is a mistake.

MY: Furthermore, isn't it human nature to harbor hope for this wonderful and sincere emotion? I am no exception.

MY: Only...

Mo Yi paused slightly and, when he opened his mouth again, there seemed to be some unclear emotion in his tone.

MY: When "love at first sight" arrives, I am more inclined to make a particular judgment first rather than walk eagerly towards love.

MY: Those wonderful things that are unforgettable for people, are they for real or are they "ephemeral"? This is more important, is it not?

Student: Oh, can this sort of thing be tested? Professor, can you teach me?

MY: It's not a peculiar method, you just need to make observations.

Student: Observations?

MY: Correct, observe the other party's attitude and thoughts when facing matters, especially the things that really threaten their lives or safety.

MY: To a certain extent, a person's behavior can reflect their personality.

As a top psychiatrist, Mo Yi is extremely honest to himself with his own emotions and thoughts. Heck, that's why he always records voiced diary logs because he uses those to examine his own mental state. So, this determination on whether or not the target of his Love At First Sight is The One means a lot to him, because he will throw himself fully into this love.

One huge thing about Mo Yi is that he chases perfection and has an aversion to imperfect things. This stems from his deathly fear of failure because he doesn't believe there is a "next time" after failure. Once something fails, that's the end. This is due to his parents again and how, while it takes time to nurture emotions, it only takes an instant to lose emotions or trust.

Third, because of the above, it is incredibly important for Mo Yi minimize as much "risks" as possible.

The translations below are going to be paired together for consistency, but they will be addressing two points at the same time. One, that Mo Yi may exaggerate the emotions he reveals, but they are genuine. Two, that he is showing his "imperfect" and "ugly" sides to his heroine in controlled settings because he doesn't want her to hate him.

(On a minor note, I think it should be kept in mind that he's also observing her through all of this to determine whether or not she's The One, but honestly she just keeps surprising him throughout the game and making him fall harder and harder for her).

[SR Fake Tears]

In those gold eyes of his, the usual gentle smile was replaced by another emotion.

MC: Dr. M-Mo...?

That expression... was not sadness and was not relief, but...

A kind of inevitable self-confidence, the satisfaction of seeing through everything, or... an unfathomable control.

That glance... was it my misconception?

In the flickering light, that expression was gone in a flash. I was incapable of determining it, but instinctively a hint of a chill rose from the bottom of my heart...

MY: Did I scare you?

MY: I just... don't want to hide myself in front of you. I just want to be honest about my weakness in front of you alone.

MY: You won't hate me, right?

Before I could answer, he smiled softly.

MY: Let me indulge myself this once, alright?

MY: Just for this short while...

[SR Fake Tears]

Mo Yi sat at his desk and turned on his digital voice recorder.

The time on the recorder slowly moved forward, but Mo Yi only watched that changing number without saying a word.

After a long time, a soft sigh came from the quiet room.

MY: I shouldn't have done that...

MY: Just for a moment of warmth, I deliberately showed her that appearance, even exaggerating my sadness and weakness...

MY: I even fully enjoyed indulging myself... I sought even more from her, hoping she would... feel even more sorry for me.

MY: But, at that time, I really didn't want to use reason to control my emotions.

MY: This is the first time I've been so... contradictory, chaotic...

His voice became lighter and lighter.

MY: The yearning I have for her... is already... an addiction I cannot give up...

[SSR Brewing Thoughts]

MY: Saying you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight was only an excuse, wasn't it? You were afraid I would have a sleepless night because I would think about past matters.

MC: Dr. Mo, you—

MY: I'm really happy.

MY: I won't be sad because of those things, but I truly am really happy.

His fingertips gently caressed my wrist.

MY: A child who has tasted candy would have a hard time enduring the loss. Can I be insatiable and rely on you more?

MY: Or is it that people who are too strong, who don't feel sad, have no way of receiving concern?

MY: Are you... going to leave and ignore me?

There was a hint of pretend grievance in his voice, and also a deep belief and certainty that I couldn't refuse him.

MC: (Too unfair! There's no way to refuse...)

Before I could answer, Mo Yi held my wrist and pulled me even closer to him.

MY: Just stay here, right with me.

Some context here is that he was acting "drunk" in the translation above. Below was the reveal that he wasn't actually drunk.

[SSR Brewing Thoughts]

The bud of feelings needed to be raised with the utmost care, but how could he let it grow strong in an unpredictable environment?

Of course he had to control it himself rather than allowing it to happen naturally.

Just like adjusting the sun and rain when a grapevine was growing, and just like controlling every timing of winemaking.

Furthermore, if someone wanted a grape seedling, which was imperfect to begin with, to produce the desired fruit, to brew the perfect wine, then it needed even more precise control.

Otherwise... just like wine, a small error might lead to serious consequences.

As you can see, the god complex and obsession over control is strong here. He cannot and does not believe to leaving things to random nature. He's not willing to lose this love and will do anything to give him and his heroine a happy ending (unlike his parents).

That's not to say that he HAS to control everything though. He actually doesn't care about the process (nature vs. nurture) so long as the results are good. But, like I mentioned above, he is certainly a master of reducing "risks".

However, and this was the whole point of [SSR Brewing Thoughts], Mo Yi's heroine teaches him that there is a "next time" after failure. She teaches him that, sometimes, the journey along the way is more important than the conclusion and that what's most important is whether or not the person he loves is beside him.

What is extremely touching is how matter-of-factly she tells him that they can just try again if they fail at something. He does not need to chase perfection when he is around her and a lot of his dates are seeing him in various states of failure. Practicing failure is such a relatable thing for us all to learn in life.

Fourth, I am going to repeat myself a little here after these translations but, in my opinion, Mo Yi carries a childlike honesty and purity regarding his emotions. The thing that makes him so charming is that while he plays these manipulative tricks, he is also extremely blunt about his own emotions. He expresses his jealousy, his possessiveness, his blunders, etc. He wants her to be the only one who can see these different sides of him and perceive his moods when he normally keeps everyone else at a polite distance. The ONLY disguise he wears is a flimsy one that hides what, in his eyes, are the "ugliest" sides of himself because he doesn't want his heroine to hate him; but he doesn't hide the fact that he has these ugly sides at all.

Fifth, basically, go ahead and fall in love with Mo Yi! He looks dangerous and he sort of is (extremely grey morality, does not adhere to the Hippocratic Oath, literally amassed power to have the choice to do what he wants, and uses his own scale of judgment, but that's another essay for another time) but he is never dangerous to you and is just as invested in this love as you are.

I suppose one thing you do have to watch out for is his arrogant god complex and believing he knows what's best LOL.

[Personal Route Ch.3]

MY: Because the mother eagle knows that, only after experiencing the pain and torment of a broken wing, the young eagle will truly have the ability to soar in the sky.

MY: Although this is just a metaphor that is somewhat different from reality, when it comes to her...

MY: This is the path she chose and, not only will I let her walk on it, but I will also let her become the most dazzling presence on this road.

MY: But, Constable Yan, you should know better than me what sort of end most people who pursue light in the chaos have.

MY: So, to recognize the darkness in front of her and face it directly is something she must learn.

MY: If she was always huddled under the wings of others, then her road would end here.

YW: But aren't you afraid of something happening by chance?

MY: "Like an eagle that stirs up its nest, that flutters over its young, spreading out its wings, catching them, bearing them on its pinions."

MY: Since I chose to do this I naturally have enough certainty. Besides... I am here, so who could hurt her?

However, this is not a one-way street and the same goes for the heroine and what she can do to him. In fact, I am going to end this essay with one of my favorite quotes ever in this game (even still to this day), because it honestly shows how Mo Yi fell in love with the dazzling justice the heroine upholds and how he will accept anything of her.

One thing he says in a beta PV, the prologue of the game, and [SSR Border of Light and Darkness] is that he hopes she can stick with the choice she makes, even if it runs counter to the world and everyone is against her.

So, anyway, the context of the quote below is important because [SSR Dangerous Invitation] is essentially a microcosm of their relationship. They roleplay a locked-room mystery and, in the end, the heroine chooses to throw Mo Yi (her lover in the game) into jail because he's a murderer (even though he did it for her). She chooses the truth and her version of justice over them living together in a lie (by pushing the blame to someone else). Before the lover is executed, he writes one last love letter and this is what Mo Yi reads out to his heroine at the end of the date.

[SSR Dangerous Invitation]

MY: Perhaps what he was infatuated with was this kind of you.

MC: !!!

Hearing his words, I looked up in astonishment.

Those gold eyes suddenly became profound and intense. I couldn't understand his emotions, only feeling that I was about to fall into his eyes.

The noisy wind and the voices of people on the long street gradually faded away at his words.

Only my heartbeat remained in my ears and the last love letter the duke wrote to the viscountess before the gallows that he read out slowly.

MY: "I will always open wide my arms and accept all your beauty and cruelty."

MY: "I hope that you will, with this heart, embrace the one and only truth you pursue."

Sorry, I can't resist finishing off by saying some more sappy words but, again, Mo Yi is just a simple man who wishes his first love to be his last love and he's so invested in this love. You are the once-in-a-lifetime stirring of his heart.

[mageofseven]

Part 3 with Beel and Belphie is ready!

Part 1 | Part 2

~

Beelzebub:

The big guy noticed the changes with his girlfriend before she even mentioned them; the sixth brother is pretty observant with those he cares about after all.

Whenever he discussed how worried he was about her, about her lethargy and dizzy spells, the woman would just smile and say she was fine, that it was just her body being off and human bodies are just weird like this at times.

Beel didn't know much about the human body so he chose to believe his Muffin on this, even if he was still worried.

As the months went on, MC started to gain weight. The demon noticed this, but it really didn't faze him at first; he didn't mind it if his girlfriend was a bit rounder in her torso.

What he did mind however was how self-conscious his girlfriend got about it. She had been eating a lot more recently and she couldn't really fight it, but she also hated every pound gained from it all.

Beel always told her how beautiful she was and how her weight never changed that to him.

However, she'd glance down at how her belly poked out now and looked to her boyfriend, who was so incredibly strong and was practically the living definition of fitness and was so good looking... and she couldn't help but fall even deeper into the slow burning feeling of loathing with of her own body.

One day, MC asked if she could go to the gym with him. The Avatar of Gluttony was immediately tense because she still wasn't feeling well, but he knew it would probably make her feel a bit better if she was exercising and actively working on what was bothering her

So he agreed, but the man couldn't bring himself to do his usual workout routine with her there. The big guy was just too worried about his Muffin.

At one point, the man just noticed that something seemed off about his Human.

He set down the weights and walked over to the treadmill she was on-- and got there just in time to catch her as she fainted.

Luckily, the woman woke up fairly quickly, but her boyfriend had enough; no more exercise for her, not until she got her dizziness under control.

For the next few days, the MC was extra depressed and just found herself in bed more, usually snuggled up with either Beel or Belphie.

It was one such day when the cramping started.

She had gotten to lay with Beel for awhile, but eventually he had to leave for the game with his teammates.

Usually, MC would go and watch him play, but since her cramps were so bad, she didn't really have this option.

She was cuddled up in bed with Belphie when the redhead gave her a kiss goodbye and told her and his twin that he'd come straight home, receiving a nod from his Muffin and a thumbs up from his twin.

The pain just got worse while he was gone though and things evolved to MC gripping onto the Avatar of Sloth and heavily sobbing into his chest.

The seventh brother couldn't move and get help; everytime he tried, the human would beg between sobs for him not to leave her. He couldn't call for help either because he realized that he left his phone up in the planetarium.

Belphie was stuck with the sobbing human for over three hours until Beel came home.

Eventually, MC could feel something lowering within her and the need to push was unbearable.

"B-Belphie, help me up!"

The man did as he was told and helped her off the bed.

Beely came into the room just in time to see his girlfriend squatting and pushing out the head while his twin held onto her to help keep her balanced.

Eyes wide, the demon ran to girlfriend. His brain wasn't fully registering what the heck was happening, but his immediate reaction was still to rush to her side and help her.

MC immediately grabbed onto her boyfriend.

"B-Beely--uhhh... i-it's coming out."

Still deeply confused and concerned, the man's gaze dropped down between her legs, now letting himself focus on the head between them.

MC... his Muffin was having his baby!

Okay action then thoughts. Right now, the man just had to be there for her.

"Belphie, go tell Lucifer. We need a doctor."

The man was really trying to keep calm for his Muffin.

Without really pausing to answer, his twin rushed out the door.

"It's okay, Muffin, I'm here."

The redhead held onto his girlfriend and encouraged her as she pushed.

When the baby was finally pushed out enough to be freed from it's mom, Beel already had his hands around it so it didn't fall to the floor.

The demon forgot to breathe for a minute as he stared down at his daughter. His daughter.

Smiling, Beel lifted his gaze back to his girlfriend, but found that the woman was still crying in pain.

"Muffin?"

"I-It still--ughhhh, I think there's another."

The man's eyes widen.

Beel noticed his girlfriend's legs shaking and knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself up.

He adjusted his hold on his little girl before guiding MC onto the bed to lay down. He stayed between her legs and continued to give her encouraging words.

Since their sister already stretched the way open for them, the second baby was crowning in very little time.

A few minutes later, MC birthed the second baby, another girl. Both girls had his wings, horns, even his hair and eye color.

The man held both girls in his arms, already overwhelmed with his love for them, before looking up at MC, who was regaining her breath.

Beel sat down next to her and kissed her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

His girlfriend nodded, gaze falling to their girls.

"Beely... we're parents now?"

Beel smiled and nodded.

"I..." The woman sighed. "How did this even happen?"

"I dunno... are you okay with this, Muffin?"

"...Are you?"

His smile grew.

"Yeah."

She gave her boyfriend a small smile.

"Then... I am too."

Beel leaned down and kissed her.

"Good. I love you... I love our girls." The demon smiled down at the twins in his arms before meeting MC's eyes again. "This is... a dream. All at once, I got everything I wanted in life. I'll make sure to give you and the girls everything I can."

The doctor finally came a few minutes later, obviously late. Still, he checked MC and the girls to make sure they were okay and before he even left, the rest of House of Lamentation knew that the two were now parents.

Belphegor:

It took Belphie a bit longer than his twin to realize something was wrong with MC.

Sleepy boy... well, has a sleepy mind.

Not to say that it took him long though; while Beel noticed the human feeling off in his scenario on the first day, it took his twin about three days.

Honestly, he wasn't really worried about how tired they got. Hell, that just meant more naps they could take together so the Avatar of Sloth was winning in that regard.

He didn't really care about the weight gain either. Yeah, he teased her about it a bit, but it was always followed by wrapping his arms around her waist and if his words actually hurt her, which sometimes they did, he'd sleepily kiss their neck, their cheek, their lips

"It was a joke, Butthead." He'd tell them. "If anything, you're even cuter with a belly."

And the boy thrived off the blush that came after.

What the boy didn't enjoy, however, was her dizzy spells. The woman would go pale and suddenly have to grab onto him. Sometimes, MC would even full on faint and he'd have to quickly catch her before she hit the ground.

The first time that happened, the two were on their way to lunch at RAD and suddenly his girlfriend stopped walking. He turned around to ask why she stopped just for the woman to fall forward and for him to have to scramble to catch her.

Luckily, the woman was only out for a minute and was confused when she woke up in her boyfriend's arms, laying on the hallway floor at RAD.

Belphie took her straight home after that, not even giving the human the option to stick around and finish the school day.

The demon didn't understand what was wrong with his Human and whenever he'd ask MC, the woman didn't seem too concerned. Lightly, yes, but she said it'd probably correct itself and human bodies are just weird for the sake of being weird sometimes.

The seventh brother wasn't sure that he believed it, but he also didn't have any other answer so he just chose to leave it at that.

Basically, it was months of Sleepy Boy pretending he didn't care, but secretly hovering over his girlfriend.

After nine months of this hovering, it finally ended.

The two were upstairs in the attic, napping.

MC had been having cramps all day and Belphie suggested just sleeping through them, saying that eventually they will just go away.

Technically, he was right, just not in a way he expected.

He woke up to MC heavily sobbing his name. The man jolted awake and found his girlfriend gripping his shirt and burying her face in his chest.

"What's wrong--"

That's when he noticed the bed was... wet? Why was it wet?

"B-Belphie, somethings--gaaahh." The woman was panting through the pain.

The demon threw the blanket off of her and saw that the bed was soaked, as was her leggings, but there was also a slight bulge.

He pulled them down and saw that she was crowning.

His eyes went wide. She's pregnant? How the hell is she pregnant?

He looked back up at MC, who was still crying from the contractions, and knew he had to handle this before anything else.

He got up from the bed and positioned himself between her legs.

"You gotta push." He told her. "It's not gonna end if you don't push, Butthead."

His voice was firm, but tinged with some sympathy.

The woman was in too much pain to argue.

It took twenty minutes, but the MC managed to push the baby out half way, only to be pulled out completely by her boyfriend.

The demon stared down at the baby, a boy with his tail, eyes, and hair, and didn't know how to feel. He had gotten so focused on helping MC that his emotions felt lightyears away.

The human cried out and his head snapped up to look see her still writhing in pain.

Was there another one? The man quickly found out that there was.

And so it all repeated.

Once the second one was born, a little girl with his horns and eyes, but MC's hair, Belphie stared down at the twins on the bed, crying at the top of their lungs.

The man was already so tired of hearing cries.

"B-Belphie..."

He looked up at MC, who had a panicked expression on her face.

Leaving the twins laying between her legs, the Avatar of Sloth went back to his side of the bed and pulled her into his arms.

Neither said a word for a while. The only sound in the room were their twins' cries.

"I didn't know..." MC mumbled.

Belphie pulled back to meet her eyes, just staring into them for a full minute.

"Promise me. Promise that it's true and you didn't know."

"I promise. I swear on everything I have with you that I had no idea."

He sighed.

"Okay." He leaned in and kissed her.

After a moment or two, he pulled away and looked down at the crying babies on the bed.

"So... what do you wanna do with them?"

"I..." The woman stared down at her babies. "C-Can you bring them to me?"

Her boyfriend nodded and scooped up the babies one at a time to bring into her arms.

The woman brought them to her chest, causing them to finally stop crying in favor of feeding from her.

Belphie watched this quietly, not really sure what else to do.

After about a minute or two, MC spoke up.

"Belphie... would you be mad at me... if I said I wanted to keep them?"

The woman knew her boyfriend wasn't a fan of kids, a topic they always clashed with a bit. MC didn't think she could survive losing her twins in anyway now that they're here, but she worried about what Belphie would think of this.

The man pursed his lips. He honestly never wanted kids before, never liked them. Still though... he felt odd. Different.

Maybe it was seeing MC hold his children so sweetly in this moment, but he wasn't as against this as he always imagined himself to be.

Was he at the beginning of developing paternal feelings or was he simply not strong enough to take away something that his girlfriend obviously wanted so much? The demon wasn't sure.

"No. I'm not mad." He shook his head. "I... damn, I don't understand how this is happening but... if you want this then I'm here for the long haul. I'll take care of them; I'll take care of you. We'll do this together."

~

Part 1 | Part 2

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: the sims 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: settsu banri/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 2.1k words

𝐚𝐧: banri and reader? using the Sims as an excuse to flirt? more likely than you think. been playing Sims 4, and I got a surge of inspiration at like 1 am. also, friends to lovers is one of my faves, goes hand in hand w/ many tropes (fake dating cough cough)

A laptop with no mouse, you’re such a pro-gamer.” Banri teases you, lifting the blankets slightly to let you settle in beside him. Fixing your position on the bed, you let out a laugh as he yelped from the skin contact.

“Your feet are fucking cold!”

You stick your tongue out at him, before turning on your laptop. “Then don’t make fun of my set-up, e-boy! You’re the one who wanted to game in bed.”

“I was expecting gacha-“

“I have event burnout,” you whine in protest, “I need a break from my eternal suffering, so we’re playing the Sims 4.”

Shuffling closer to you, his thighs now beside yours, he watches you load up an unfinished sim from your gallery. He snickers as he looks at the avatar closely.

“Oh, so we’re making each other then?” Banri asks, noting the various clothes that looked incredibly similar to stuff he actually owns. Clearly, you already got a head start. “My face looks kind of fucked though.”

Giggling, you turn to face him. “Obviously it’s hard to do your gorgeous, one of a kind face justice, have pity on my average sim-making skills.” You joked, observing Banri’s expression for a comeback. Whatever he throws at you, you’ll be prepared to throw back.

“Then I’ll let you look at my face as a reference, for as long as you want,” he replies, the quirk of his lips letting you know he had more to say. “Just like how you’re looking at me right now,” he continues, a little softer this time.

Caught off-guard, you force yourself to turn back to the bright blue screen as Banri’s sim lets out various sounds of Simlish non-sense. Did joining theatre make him even more smooth or something?

And here you thought you could avoid the feelings continuously sprouting in your chest. You supposed inviting the object of your affections over to your place didn’t help your case; with your friend spending more and more time as an actor, you secretly longed for and cherished the time you spent together.

Still, with how he grew and bloomed as a person it was hard not to catch feelings.

With a boyish grin set on his face, he found himself revelling in your cute embarrassment. “Made ya speechless?”

“Something like that,” you said half-heartedly.

You always found him attractive, bowl-cut, dumb animal print and all. Of course, as if you would ever tell him seriously lest his ego gets bigger. Yet when you were looking at a picture of him for reference, your thoughts weren’t ‘yeah my friend is attractive, what a good reference for this sim’.

Instead, it was more along the lines of, ‘I’d like to punch his mouth, with my mouth.’

Slightly concerned by your lacklustre response, Banri looks at your face for a sign of discomfort or anger. Lips slightly pouted, eyebrows somewhat furrowed, and eyes completely focused on the screen.

Wait, what were you doing?

“Yo what are you doing to my face! Stop stretching it out!” You were smiling again, so he wasn’t all that bothered by your petty retaliation really, plus it was nice to know he hadn’t said anything that was out of line with you.

“Fine, fine. I wanna get Banny’s face right.” You say.

Banri opens his mouth, then closes it, then lets out a huff of laughter. “You have a nickname for the sim now?” He was about to say more until one of your hands takes hold of his face.

Settsu Banri was not easily flustered, nor did his face turn red from small, insignificant touches. The tingling feeling rendered within him as your fingers brush against his skin, however, was present no matter how much he denied it.

This weird silence wasn’t really his thing, but if he spoke up now or teased you back, there was a chance you would stop. Why didn’t he want you to stop?

Your index finger traces his jawline, the pad briefly meeting his cheek before sliding upwards to the bridge of his nose. He didn’t close his eyes, but with your intense stare piercing through him, his gaze shifts towards somewhere,��anywhere else.

The wall was a nice place to set his eyes on. Not so plain that his thoughts would wander but not so cluttered that he wouldn’t know where to start. There was a time when your room was littered with posters from different shows, games, bands- he could remember it pretty well, having made fun of you for it.

At the present a choice few posters still there, but now there was also the addition of photos of you and other people on the wall. Some were polaroids, others were pictures you printed out yourself and taped on.

From afar, he spots several photos with him in it- when you went thrift shopping together, the cultural festivals you dragged him to and the music festivals he visited with you. A part of him is pleased, smug even, to know that he’s important enough to you have his pictures up there.

He hadn’t really thought about it before, but when did the two of you get so close to hang out all the time? You had always been chill with him even when he was a delinquent, but after joining Mankai the two of you had grown closer.

“Oi, Banri. Look at this!”

Huh, when did you stop touching his face?

When Banri looked at the screen appraisingly, his sim version- Banny, you called him, looked a lot more like him. You even dressed him in clothes he would’ve chosen for himself.

“Like the animal print? Downloaded a bunch for you.”

He whistled, looking at the different outfits you chose. “You did pretty good, I guess. Could probably do better though.”

You scoff, looking a little doubtful. Sure, Banri excelled in many things, but making a good sim look-a-like isn’t a common talent, especially without any practice.

“Have you even played the Sims 4 before?”

Shrugging, Banri pulled the device onto his lap from yours. “2 and 3. Never touched 4, should be easy enough.”

He plays around with the options for a bit. After entering your name and gender, he looks through the possible aspirations and traits he could give your sim, which was easy enough. He briefly wondered if you would protest being given a mismatched trait, but when he hovers the cursor over one you don’t react at all. 

Calling out your name, he eyes you from his peripheral. This wasn’t the first time you spaced out today. One arm went in front of you as he waved his hand to catch your attention.

“You can… also,” you paused, chewing on your lip for a few seconds, “for reference. If you wanted.”

He whips his head to face you completely, looking a little shell-shocked.

‘If I wanted?’

He paused, figuring out how to phrase his response. Honestly, he probably didn’t need to- he already has your face mapped out and memorised in his brain at this point, but there was no way he was admitting that.

Besides, if you offered it wouldn’t be wrong wanting to accept.

“Not that I need it, but I’m just making sure, ya hear?” His voice was the same as always, not a sign of wavering to hint at his anticipation or nervousness. “Bet you just want my hands all over ya or something.” He said, doing his best to manage a playful tone but not quite making the cut.

If someone else had said it you would have felt called out, or at worst offended, but you knew he was merely slipping into the language he most felt comfortable using.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Your voice came out a little shaky at the start, but thankfully he doesn’t out you for it. “Just don’t be weird about it.” There was no doubt in your mind that your cheeks were hotter than the sun, but you were curious about how it felt.

“No pressure,” Banri said, hoping his face is still the picture of nonchalance despite the erratic thumping of his heart in his chest defying it. “You can back out anytime.”

You don’t answer, steadily avoiding his gaze by observing the hand hovering near your face. It twitched.

The blanket shifts as Banri sits in a way where he could look at you properly, putting the laptop aside.

As soon as you felt his fingers come in contact with your face you immediately shut your eyes, unable to bear the embarrassment. A multitude of questions ran through your head, unable to concentrate on a single one.

Why did you offer? Why did he accept? You did the same, so why was it such a big deal if he touched your face? Why did you touch his face in the first place? Why were you so touch-starved? Why did he it feel so nice?

You hoped closing your eyes hid the self-consciousness and pleasure you felt at this moment, enjoying his knuckles glide against your skin.

Banri narrows his eyes, stomach twisting at how overwhelmingly adorable you looked and how soft you were. Hell, you were turning him all soft and sappy and disgusting but that was the least of his worries right now. At least your eyes were closed, he doesn’t have to put on a facade— that this was just a friendly thing, because if he was reading the signs right you were both venturing somewhere beyond that.

His thumbs press against your cheekbones, so featherlight the sensation might as well be from a ghost. You stay still, unable— or perhaps unwilling— to move, and as much as you try to hold it in your breaths grow more and more uneven the longer Banri’s hand lingers on your skin.

You wonder if this is as intimate for him as it was for you.

Your skin is warm and soft, he’s a little conscious if the callousness of his fingertips feels uncomfortable to you.

Even with the slight roughness, his fingers felt infinitely tender as they swept through your cheeks.

Following your cheekbone, he moves to your jaw, to your chin, and with his fingers up again to his forehead, learning the planes of your face. He’s had you memorised visually, but it wouldn’t hurt to familiarise himself with the feeling of you. Banri stretches out his fingers before fully cupping your face with his palms, swallowing when you lean your head into one of them.

“Do you know,” Banri hesitates, “what you’re doing to me?”

His courage wanes, he wants to say more but it’s so difficult sorting out the emotions overflowing within. His head hurts a bit from figuring out what to focus on, the anxiety and panic or the joy and euphoria. The only constant right now was you.

One hand falls to your arm, slowly sliding up and down while leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other continues to rest on the side of your face, thumb inching closer and closer. As the pad brushes against the corner of your lip, your eyes open wide and gaze directly at the familiar pools of blue.

The first thought that flies through your mind is that he’s close enough now to kiss you. Everything about him, the air around them, feels warm and humming with an energy you’ve never felt from anyone before— other than Banri.

“This isn’t easy for me,” Banri lets out a breath, both of you doing your best to not disturb the feeling in the room. His hair falling loose but his eyes never leave yours for a second. “I’ve never… Look, I like being around you. You matter to me. A lot.”

You can’t help the smile that makes its way on your face, the utter adoration, and fondness and love you had for him escaping all at once. With what little space you had between, you pressed your forehead against his.

“You matter to me too. A lot.” You muttered, repeating his confession, closing your eyes again before ever so gently pushing your lips to his.

You’ve imagined how it would be like to kiss Banri before, rough and a little harsh, but as you felt his hand through the baby hairs at the bottom of your head you were more than content at his gentle kissing.

Banri continues kissing you slowly, unsure if the sun had already set, but all that mattered was this moment.

want to order again?

[honourablejester]

Spellbook/Book of Shadows Descriptions:

I saw a post recently about how you would describe your own spellbook, if you had one in RL, and that was an interesting idea, but I misread it first and thought it was describing spellbooks for your characters. Which is honestly a bit more interesting to me, because of various circumstances, so I thought I’d do that first.

(My spellbook, if I’m entirely honest, would likely be whatever the medieval equivalent of a ring-binder would be, because I like to physically lay stuff out and rearrange things for organisation purposes, so loose sheets that can be clipped or tied together in various orders would likely be what I ended up with)

Also, you may notice from the following, I like illusionists. Also abjurers and diviners, but they don’t show up here. GOOlocks are a given.

Heironymous Xiloscient, High Elf Illusionist & Historian:

Hieronymous is a shabby mess of a hunchbacked wizard who lives in an attic flat-slash-perpetual book landslide in a university district, is dating a shady mess of an assassin rogue, and is about half-and-half historian and wizard. He is not at all a practical sort of person.

His spellbook is a mess. It’s this great huge lumpy codex that he keeps sloppily stitching pages into the back of, covered in leather so patched and beaten and stained it’s hard to tell what colour it used to be. The thing is bristling with bookmarks and loose sheets, because he’s constantly cross-referencing back and forth within it, and he needs something to grip to flip easily. He could get a permanent three or four bookmarks stitched into it, three different coloured ribbons that he could put to the right pages each time, but he keeps forgetting to do that, so we’re left with whatever scraps he had to hand instead. This is purely for cross-referencing, though, for ease of moving back and forth between pages. He knows where everything in the book is, and if he needed it in a hurry, he could crack open the right page every time.

Every time he puts a spell in, he usually does remember to put the spell itself and all the pertinent practical necessities of it together, but then there’s an annotated ramble on the history and theory and links the spell has to a bunch of other things. And some other rambles that the spell reminded him of, and usually several pages of what was basically a mental wiki-walk on his part. All written in this incredibly cramped, tight, blotchy handwriting that half looks like it’s a code but mostly it’s just messy. He’s more careful with his handwriting on dissertations and things he has to actually submit to people, but for his personal spellbook? Scribbles at the speed of thought.

However messy the book looks, though, like the wizard himself, it is nonetheless very rigorously researched and holds a lot more pointed observations than you might think.

He also has a much smaller little back-up ‘folio’ which is just his spells themselves, along with assorted loose sheets of related research when he remembers to copy some over.

Fenlock the Frog, Bullywug Illusionist & Adventurer:

An abandoned urchin, Fenlock grew up mostly feral in a vast swamp. He might have grown up to be a very different sort of person, if not for two things. One: he stumbled across the blackened ruins of a wizard’s tower in the depths of the swamp, with several still-intact rooms hidden by illusions, and two: when a group of adventurers tried to slaughter him some years later to raid the ruins themselves, a passing dragonborn gladiator helped save his life and let him keep at least one ‘treasure’ from his old home, earning his eternal loyalty in the process.

As a wizard, Fenlock is slowly and painstakingly self-taught from the books and notes that survived in the ruins, starting with the ones in Common that he could semi-easily puzzle over, and graduating to several of the slightly more complex volumes. He chose illusion as his school partly because that’s what he had access to, but also because he saw how genuinely useful illusion magic was when it came to protecting what matters to you, since the only reason he had anything to puzzle over at all was because of the illusion spells hiding the study and sections of the library.

He’s still a Bullywug, though, and a feral little shit who wanted shiny things, so his personal spellbook is the fanciest thing he could scrounge from the remains of the tower. And, given the apparent personality of its original owner, there were several shiny options to choose from.

The one he went with is a codex in deep burgundy leather, with gold embossing and several small amethysts inlaid around the edges of the front plate. The pages are gilt-edged and a thick, heavy paper. It’s the fanciest thing he’d ever seen in his life, the fanciest thing a lot of people have seen in their lives, and was probably intended by the original owner of the tower as a blank slate for a magnum opus. It also has a nice little enchantment on it that protects the paper from water-damage, probably because the original wizard hid himself away in a bloody swamp and had at least some awareness of the fact.

The book, along with the clothes on his back and a couple of bottles of good inks, were the only things Fenlock managed to keep when Fierce saved him from the adventuring party. He is deeply, deeply attached and incredibly protective of it, viewing it as a gift from his ‘teacher’, and while he’s willing out of general paranoia to transcribe spells elsewhere as a back-up, if the book ever was actually destroyed he would be completely devastated.

He’s gonna learn Nystul’s Magic Aura at some point just to protect it.

Alcyone of Carcosa, Aasimar Great Old One Warlock:

This is a Tomelock’s Book of Shadows, not a spellbook, so its appearance is only partially of Alcyone’s choice, and she has something of a complicated relationship with it.

Alcyone’s powers were unwillingly gifted to her by an eldritch star cluster called the Hyades, at the cost of the destruction of her home city of Carcosa, and Alcyone possibly being either plane- or time-shifted away from its ruins. Her relationship with her powers is thus complicated, to say the least. However, she views the grimoire she was given as something close to an apology gift from her patron, as it allows her to look for other types of magic than just those the stars want to give her.

The grimoire is a heavy codex consisting of sheets of vellum bound between two plates of a strange grey metal. On the outside, the metal is fully covered in a stained yellow leather, with the Hyades constellation embossed heavily in black on the front and rear. Sometimes the embossed stars seem to glow the silver-purple of her eldritch blast. The spine has strange symbols on it that she hasn’t yet deciphered, and isn’t sure she wants to. When she finishes transcribing spells into the grimoire, the vellum takes on a strange silvery sheen and becomes slightly metallic, as if to match the metal of the binding plates.

The book also chimes slightly when she studies from it. She can’t hear this, or doesn’t notice it, but everyone around her will. It’s not a good chiming.

This is a fun game, honestly …

[mldrgrl]

The First New Year

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: @kateyes224 wanted an early season New Year’s Eve fic.  And you can’t get earlier than post-The Pilot.

If she hadn’t promised she would show up, she would have just stayed home.  Parties in general were never her thing and New Year’s Eve was the worst of them.  Inevitably, revelry would be taken too far and she wasn’t looking forward to a house full of inebriated strangers.  She had promised though, and so she would have to endure or break her word.

Knocking was useless and even the doorbell couldn’t be heard over the music and laughter from inside the house.  Cautiously, Scully opened the unlocked door to Ellen’s foyer and squeezed past a cluster of men sipping alcohol from plastic cups and arguing about upcoming Superbowl playoffs.  She snaked her way down the hall, past flanks of people; men in sweater vests and party hats, women in tight dresses and tiaras announcing HAPPY NEW YEAR and 1993 in glitter and gold.  She adjusted the folds of her trench coat a little tighter, feeling more out of place in her black turtleneck and wool trousers than when she first walked in.

Hoping to find Ellen, the kitchen was the first place she checked.  All she found there was more people, cases of wine and beer, and trays of assorted hors d'oeuvres that could feed an army.  Apparently all of Cathedral Heights was invited to tonight’s party.

Scully located Gene, Ellen’s husband, before she found Ellen.  He was holding court by the fireplace and lifted a glass in her direction when he saw her and waved her over.  Even though Gene was her best friend’s husband, she wasn’t exactly well-acquainted with him.  He was a corporate attorney, dedicated to his career and had little free time.  He made Ellen happy though, and that was all that mattered.

“Dana,” he said, drawing her in and kissing her lightly on the cheek.  “Good to see you.  This is Steve Wentworth and Tripp Lightfoot.  Steve just made partner this year.”

“Congratulations,” she said, forcing a smile.

“But, you haven’t even taken your coat off yet.”

“I just got here.”

“Dana and Ellen go back to Annapolis,” he explained.  “Isn’t that right?  You grew up on the same base?  Their father’s were Navy.”

“That’s right.”  She nodded in agreement and searched the room.  

“My Grandad went to West Point,” Tripp or Steve said.  She wasn’t sure which was which.

“Sorry, I just need to use the ladies room and then...”

“Past the kitchen.”

“Yes.”  She forced another smile and drifted away.  

Finally, she located Ellen at the back of the house in the enclosed porch at the back of the house.  Her friend and another woman were chatting and hanging coats on portable racks that were set up for the occasion.

“Dana!” Ellen cried, rushing over to hug her friend.  “Oh, I’m so glad you came.  I know you hate these things.  Linda, come and meet my oldest friend.”

“Good to meet you,” Linda said.  “El, I’m just going to use the phone in the den and check in with the babysitter.”

“Oh of course, of course.  Go in through the side, we locked the French doors to keep people from wandering in.”  Ellen took both of Dana’s hands and squeezed them.  “It is so good to see you.  It’s been too long.”

“I know.”

“Oh, but let me take your coat.  So how are you?  How’s the teaching going?”

Scully reluctantly shed her trench coat into Ellen’s waiting hands.  “Teaching is good,” she said.  “I’ve had a new assignment though.  Sort of.  On an as needed basis.  Field work.”

“Field work, that’s exciting.”

“It is, actually.”

Ellen hung Scully’s coat up on the rack with the others.  “Where’s Ethan?”

“Oh.”  Scully took a breath and then shook her head.  “Ethan isn’t...we broke up.”

“Oh, Dana.”  Ellen made a noise of dismay and her mouth drooped into a frown.  “What happened?”

“Nothing really happened, we just...didn’t really have time for each other anymore.”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of eligible bachelors here tonight, though I don’t even know half of them.  Mostly colleagues of Gene.”

“How’s Trent?” Scully was eager to change the subject from eligible bachelors.

“At Gene’s parents tonight, thankfully.  They got him one of those Gameboy things for Christmas and I honestly don’t know if it’s a godsend or an instrument of evil. It’s kept him out of my hair at times, but just try to take it out of his hands!”

“Mm.”  Scully nodded, but the struggles of parenting were foreign to her.  

“He loved those cars you got him though!  Your mom brought them to midnight mass, I hope she told you.”

“I know, I was sorry I couldn’t get them to you myself, it’s been a little hectic, but I’m glad he liked them.  My...partner suggested them.”

“Partner?  Part of the new assignment?”

“In a way.  I mean, I guess I don’t really know what to call him yet.”

“Him!  Is he attractive?”

Scully opened her mouth slightly and then paused.  Mulder was attractive, but she’d tried not to dwell on it or think too much about it.  But, he dressed well, he was always clean cut and shaven, and he smelled incredible.  He was also roguishly charming, which was a bad sign.  And given her track record with Daniel and Jack, she had made a vow never to find anyone she worked with attractive ever again.

“Yeah,” she finally said.  “I guess he’s...cute.”

“Cute is good.  Tell me more ab-“

“Ellen!” Gene called out to his wife and then he appeared around the door, leaning into the frame from the other side of the wall.  “Honey, sorry to interrupt.  Where’s the case of Coke?  I thought we left it in the fridge in the garage and I can’t find it.”

“Let me check.”  Ellen widened her eyes in feigned panic at Scully and smiled.  “Hostess duties call.  I want to know more about this cute partner of yours though.”

“I mean, there’s nothing really…”  Scully trailed off.  Ellen was distracted and already out the door.

With a sigh, Scully looked around the empty room.  It was just her and a hundred coats.  She opened up the small purse that was strapped across her chest and rested at her hip.  She’d only brought the essentials with her; her ID, her phone, her debit card, and a tube of lipstick in a small case.  She took the lipstick out and checked her face in the small mirror inside the case.  There was a smudge of mascara at the corner of her eye which she fixed with a fingertip and then she closed the case and put it back in her purse.

Steeling herself, Scully headed back to the kitchen and found herself a glass of wine to sip.  She wandered the first floor looking for someone, anyone she might know, but didn’t recognize anybody.  She didn’t know how to insert herself into conversations without being awkward and so she remained a wallflower, quietly observing from a corner.

“It’s Dana, right?”  Tripp or Steve from earlier sauntered up to her.

“Yes.”

“Tripp.  We met earlier.”

“Right.  You work with Gene.”

“I do.  Gene said you were in the FBI.  That’s got to be pretty exciting, even for a secretary.”

“I’m not a secretary.”

“Oh, I don’t mean you are.  I just mean, it’s the FBI.  Covert ops and all that.  Secret intel.  Everyone from the janitor to the head honcho probably has things they have to keep hush hush.”

“I see.”  Scully took a sip of her wine and tried not to look disengaged.

“So what do you do there?”

“I’m a Special Agent.”

Tripp whistled low.  “What does that mean exactly?  You’re a spy?”

“It means I’m licensed to carry a weapon and I’m trained to use it.”  She couldn’t help herself at being a little sarcastic, but it came out a little more flirtatious than she would’ve liked.

“I guess I should be on my best behavior, then.”

“Luckily, I’m off duty tonight.”

“That is lucky.”

Her phone rang in her purse just then and she took it out and looked at the screen.  She didn’t recognize the number, but she answered anyway.  Even if it was a wrong number, it was an opportunity to extricate herself from her current conversation and she wanted to snatch it up.  She raised an apologetic finger at Tripp and then turned away, covering her ear with the side of her wine glass to block out the noise of the room.

“Scully,” she said.

“Oh hey, Scully, I didn’t actually think you’d answer.”

“Mulder?”

“Guilty.”

“Is something wrong?  Is it a case?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at...a friend’s party.”

“I hate parties.”

She took a glance at Tripp and saw him sipping his beer and pondering the windows like he was pretending not to be interested in her conversation.  “Yes,” she answered.  “You and me both.”

“But, you’re at one?”

“Well…”

“Let me guess, you promised that friend you’d come and you’d rather be miserable than break a promise.”

She closed her eyes and her cheeks burned a little in embarrassment.  “Something like that, yes.”

“Well, I don’t want to bug you, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“I got your Christmas card.”

“My...Mulder, I sent that weeks ago.”

“Sometimes I get a little distracted and forget to open my mail.”

She laughed.  “And you chose 11 o’clock on New Year’s Eve to catch up?”

“I wasn’t doing anything else, so…”

“Well, you’re welcome.”

“Have a happy New Year, Scully.  I’ll let you get back to your party.  It sounds like...a party.”

“You have a happy New Year too, Mulder.”  She hung up the call and then stared at the phone in her hand for a few moments.

“Nothing urgent, I hope,” Tripp said, mildly.  “Our national security isn’t at risk, is it?”

“It could be.  I don’t work in that department.”

“So what department do you work in?”

“Pathology, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“I’m sorry, could you excuse me?  I just realized I need to make another call.”

“Sure.”

Before she could talk herself out of what she was about to do, Scully hurried back to the sun porch to retrieve her coat.  Along the way, she dropped her half-empty wine glass off on a tray of other used glasses.  She found her trench coat fairly easily and swiped one of the many bottles of champagne off the counter in the kitchen, tucking it under her arm as she tied her jacket closed and slipped unnoticed out the door.

Traffic was light, but it still took almost forty minutes to get to Mulder’s apartment.  She had to stop a few times to consult her map and make sure she was making the right turns.  His block was tree-lined and quiet.  The apartment building was brick and stately.  A couple that were making their way out the front door let her in before she needed to buzz and she took the elevator to the fourth floor to search for number 42.  When she found it, she knocked lightly and then stepped back to wait.

“You’re not the pizza guy,” Mulder said when he opened his door.  He was barefoot, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.  It was the most casual she’d seen him aside from his running clothes.

“Afraid not.”  She held up the bottle of champagne though and he took it from her by the neck.

“Won’t this be missed at the party?  Won’t you be missed as well?”

“Me and the champagne will go unnoticed.  And I figured, I kept my promise by showing up.  I never agreed to stay until midnight.”

“I like your logic.  Come in?”

For the first time, Scully stepped into Mulder’s apartment and took it all in.  It was dark and mismatched, but it still felt cozy.  It wasn’t quite the bachelor pad she was expecting, but she’d yet to see the kitchen or bathroom so she should probably reserve judgment.

“I was just watching Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve,” he said.

“Anything good?”

“Not really.  Should I pour this champagne now, or should we wait?”

Scully looked at her watch.  It was ten minutes to midnight.  “Pour it now,” she said.

“Sit down.  Make yourself at home.”

She took her coat off and hung it on the rack by the door.  Despite Mulder’s casual attire, she didn’t feel out of place here like she did at the party.  She unzipped her boots and took those off too.  Her socked feet slid precariously across his wood floor.  His couch was made of soft leather and she sank down into it.  A fish tank bubbled quietly next to her and she gazed at the tiny fish darting back and forth inside.

“Sorry I don’t have anything more formal,” Mulder said, coming into the room with two coffee mugs balanced in one hand and the champagne bottle in the other.  “I don’t entertain all that often.”

Scully chuckled as he handed her the mug with Marvin the Martian on the side and sat beside her.  The one he kept in his hand had the New York Knick’s logo on it.  He poured the champagne into her cup first and then his and she waited until he’d put the bottle down to clink their mugs together.

“Cheers,” he said.

“Cheers.”

They both took a sip.  Mulder licked his lips and then nodded.  “It’s good,” he said.

“I should tell you my godson loved the Hot Wheels you told me about.”

“I did?”  Mulder looked at her blankly and tilted his head in question.

“It’s okay, it was an offhand remark.  About hot toys of the season. I remembered it when I was shopping for him and...well, you should get the credit for it.”

“Oh.  How old is your godson?”

“Seven.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the prime target for the Hot Wheels market.”

Scully turned her attention to the TV and The Village People singing YMCA in low volume, interspersed with people screaming and dancing, waving noisemakers and blowing horns.  

“I hope you didn’t leave your party because of me,” Mulder said, suddenly.

“No, I left the party because of me,” she answered, after thinking it over for a few moments.

“Why’d you show up here?”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t really want to be at that party, but I also didn’t really want to be at home either.  And then you called and…”

“I’m a step above being alone.”  His chuckle echoed into his mug before he took another sip of champagne.

“It wasn’t that.  I don’t know what it was, actually, but it wasn’t that.”

They were both quiet again and Dick Clark announced a commercial break before the final countdown.  Scully looked at her watch again.  Four minutes to go.  Time seemed to fly by so quickly.

“Do you ever make resolutions?” she asked.

“Not really.  Do you?”

“Sometimes.  I can’t really think of anything this year, though.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.  Maybe it means you’re living the life you want to live.”

“Hm.”  She thought about that all through the commercial break.  She barely had enough time for friends or family this year, let alone a relationship.  Her work was both exhilarating and fulfilling, but was that enough?  She considered herself to be content and happy, but would she always feel that way?  Should she be making time for other people now before it was too late?

“Hey,” Mulder said, bumping her shoulder with his.  “Eight, seven, you’re missing it, four, three, two, one.  Happy new year!”

Scully snapped out of her reverie and joined him at number three.  They tapped their mugs together again and took longer sips of champagne as Auld Lang Syne began to play on TV.  The screen was filled with confetti and celebration.

“Scully?” Mulder said.

“Yeah?”

He leaned closer to her, hesitated for a second, and then placed a quick kiss on her cheek.  “Happy new year,” he said.

She stared down at his knees for a few moments and then reached up to touch the spot on her cheek where his lips had been.  “We can never be together,” she said.

“What?”

“I just...I should tell you that I can never date a coworker again, so…”

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, but…”

“I didn’t mean to give you a false impression, or...or…”

“I didn’t get any impression.”

“So that we’re clear.”

“Maybe it was me that-”

There was a knock on Mulder’s door that startled them both.  He cringed and then set his mug on the coffee table and pushed himself up from the couch.  She downed the rest of her champagne and pressed the back of her hand to her flaming cheeks, one at a time.

“You like sausage and pepperoni?” he asked, returning to the room with a pizza box in hand.

“I should probably…”

“I like working with you, Scully.  I just want to throw that out there because I think we both misread something tonight and...you’re right.  We can never be together because I like working with you too much.”

“Oh.”

“It was just a friendly kiss on the cheek is all.”

“You just want to be friends?”

“I kind of thought we already were.  Sort of.”

“We can be friends.”

“Okay.”  Mulder sat down again and made room on his coffee table for the pizza box.  “Well, would you like to share this pizza with me, as a friend?”

“I think I will take you up on that offer, yes.”

“In that case, I should get some plates.”

“Mulder.”  She touched his arm, keeping him in place next to her.  After a brief pause, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, trying not to think about how warm his skin felt or let her eyes droop as she breathed him in.  She could not be attracted to her partner, not now, not ever.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Happy new year?”

He smiled, but she noticed that his eyes shifted down to her mouth and then back up again.  “So, friends?” he said.

“And partners.”

“That depends on how good of a spy you are.”

“Mulder, I’m not…”

He raised his brows at her and she lowered her eyes.

“I like working with you too,” she said.  “With you.  Not against you.  Not for any other reason than...the cases are interesting.  The work is interesting.  You’re…”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…”  Mulder picked up his mug, but noticed she was empty and poured more champagne into hers.  “To 1993,” he said, raising his cup.

“To 1993.”

They tapped their mismatched mugs together and then Mulder got up to get the plates.

The End

[brideofcthulhu10]

Not a story request but just an opinion question for you :) Do you think the guys made a good ‘big brother’ figure to Star? And in which order would you place best to least in terms of treating her?

 See that’s a tricky one. I went ahead and answered this one early just because with these other prompts I intend to make them pretty lengthy. Usually I go in order of who asked first, but I don’t want to starve you guys of content for two days in a row. 

Honestly I think Star’s relationship with the boys probably started off amazing. We have to remember that Star didn’t know about Max, so that means he wasn’t responsible for her turning. I think at some point they met Star along the Santa Carla night life and she clicked rather well with them. Some people theorize that David had some form of feelings for her (even Keifer Sutherland played around with the idea) but David’s behavior towards her doesn’t seem to support that. I don’t think he hated her, but it seems now by this point he’s utterly indifferent to her. I like to think that maybe Star really was a hippy. 

During her walk around with Michael he comments that her name must be due to her parents being ex-hippies. This is entirely speculation, but I like to think that Star WAS a hippy. A flowy, peace and love flower child in maybe the late 70s who got swept up into the vampire world by sheer accident. She’s unwilling to kill, so I’m guessing like Michael, David tricked Star with the fancy bottle of blood. Its a huge reason why she warns Michael (”You don’t have to, Michael. It’s blood.”). That’s also why I think David was sending all those illusions. Well one, just to fuck with Michael the Clueless Wonder. But also I’m sure he knew Star would attempt to dissuade him. Another thing I like to do is take into account the Lost Boys Prequel which, while never made, had a fully written script diving into the origins of the boys that Joel Schumacher and Eric Red had wrote (so technically it is canon, just unreleased canon which breaks my heart). A small spoiler warning in that regards, but in it David loses his love interest in a tragic incident. Afterwards I think he became extremely possessive over his friends, and when Star most likely wanted to leave that’s when they decided to turn Laddie, sort of a gift to her so she’d stay.

I think that boys did really care for her at one point, otherwise they wouldn’t try to turn her in the first place. David to me doesn’t seem like the type of vampire to “build his brood into a massive vampire army”! That’s a huge fucking hassle if you’ll pardon my French. So I dunno as far as big brother goes, but he definitely had enough of an attachment to allow her in. Enough that she rides on David’s motorcycle, in fact, he encourages it. In the book it’s mentioned Paul was one of the only ones who interacted with her on a night to night basis. After all, he’s Paul. He’s goofy, fun loving, an open book. I think one of the biggest reasons the boys started distancing themselves from her is when she rejected their lifestyle, in a way taking it as she was rejecting them. Honestly, she kind of was.

 It was insinuating that by becoming a vampire you were turning into these horrid monsters that she refused to be a part of. 

But to them, being turned is a gift! Sure a few lives were lost, but considering how long ago they were supposed to have been turned, they had most likely dealt with that moral challenge long ago. But, despite that, Paul would certainly be the type to forget about all that drama and just vibe with his cute little hippy sister. I still picture him jumping over to her when the get back from a hunt, talking about his night,  Dwayne and Marko probably took it the most personal when she chose her humanity over them. 

I don’t see Dwayne trusting people easily as it is, and I’m sure he was still apprehensive when Star joined their quartet. But like him, she was very mellow and down to Earth, it was easy to feel at peace. Sure he was a wild man like the other boys, but we can see that Dwayne likes to hover in the background. More of an observer than the one torching the building. He clearly has a gentle side, he obviously took care of Laddie more than once. Even during those little background scenes Laddie is wedged up against Dwayne eating Chinese food, choosing to ride with him, climbing up the fountain to be with Paul and him. I’m sure a few of you noticed, but Dawyne actually sends Laddie over to Star when they’re chanting Michael’s name. I don’t think he wanted him around them when they got wild.

 Marko was probably friendly from the start but he’s a hard one to read. That sweet face hides a lot of darkness. I think he was pretty friendly to start off with. Doting, big smiles, goofing off. But once Star resisted the change, he distanced himself. That’s most likely why they didn’t kill her, there were some feelings remaining and rather than kill her they just wanted to find any way they could to keep her with them. You don’t want to be a vampire? Well, you’ll get eternal youth! You just gotta kill one person, then we’ll handle the rest! Don’t leave, we got a little boy so you won’t be alone. Girls like kids right?? But even still she resisted, and they grew impatient. Why won’t you join us, Star? Do you hate us?

Michael was supposed to be it. I bet you they upped the pressure for Star to turn, maybe even gave her an ultimatum or used her care for Laddie as leverage. But Max intervenes, tells them they can’t kill Michael as planned. So fine, they’ll change Michael! Star likes the guy anyway, all they have to do is make him one of them, then she’ll have no choice but to join them!

So if I were to rate it, I’d say the first to be brotherly towards Star was Paul. Even the novel suggested he was the closest to her. Poking her cheek whenever she’s pouting, even offer a hug when he sees whatever is happening is really weighing heavy on her. He doesn’t understand how she could not want to be a vampire like the rest of them, it probably really hurts him. She’s like his baby sister, doesn’t she want to stay with him? The thoughts are just too gloomy, so he’ll bury it all in an abundance of humor. Talking about his emotions is just too touchy feely for him, he’d rather just give her a noogy and run off elsewhere.

 Next, Dwayne. Sure he’s quiet, but I don’t doubt they’d have common ground with things like chakras, burning sage, she’ll tell him about reading the stars and what that means for the night. I think Star would try to read his palms, maybe Dwayne would find jewelry on a corpse or maybe some fancy rock while out and just toss it her way. Coming home just drenched in blood, seeing Star still moping on her bed and he’ll toss a chunk of quartz her way attached to a leather cord. 

“I found it hanging in that old man’s truck. He uh... doesn’t have much use for it. I don’t want it.”

Next would be David. Honestly he’s indifferent by this point, if she wants to be an indecisive waif that’s on her, not him. But, she’s not about to just leave them. She said yes when they asked her to join, it didn’t matter the context! You don’t just make promises you don’t intend to keep. So whether she likes it or not, she’s stuck with them. I think on a rare occasion he’ll show genuine kindness but he’ll just brush it off as a calculated move. 

Last is Marko. I don’t think he really interacts with Star at all anymore. Before he’d joke around with her, maybe use his chopsticks as fangs when he notices she’s a bit more mopey than usual. I think while friendly, Marko doesn’t REALLY connect with someone for a long time. Before they were turned Marko knew the boys, I wouldn’t be surprised if they grew up together (again if I’m going by Schumacher’s prequel script here) so that’s why he’s that attached to the guys. Marko was probably starting to really warm up to Star, welcoming her to the pack, and then.. she wasn’t feeding. In fact, she was resisting it! Couldn’t she see why this was such an incredible opportunity? Of all the mortals they could’ve changed, they chose her! It’s insulting! So now the most Marko will do is give her a side glance, maybe a smile but it’s always a very unnerving smile, like just underneath he wishes he could stake her himself and save the hunters the trouble. But, so long as she makes Paul happy he’ll just keep himself distanced.

[neekaasaddie]

Silver Chevy Silverado Part 2

      Everything is more quiet in the mornings. The air is fresher and cooler because it’s had all night to cleanse itself and there’s a distinct stillness that sweeps the environment an hour before the sun rises that’s never present in the night. It’s like a reset button is pressed and the humans in my neighborhood are quietly booting up for their day while in their beds. What if we’re all robots and when we sleep, we’re just rebooting?

     I hear a car door open in the distance.

     It’s easier to think in the mornings, too. You don’t have all the thoughts and events from the day nagging at you incessantly and weighing you down. Sometimes, when I wake up from a bad dream or one where my crush actually likes me back, I wake up in a pensive mood–– but other than that, I feel like a clean slate every time I open my eyes.

     “You’re an early riser,” observes a familiar voice. I jolt to attention and see someone sitting in a silver Chevy Silverado with the door swung wide open and a pair of legs dangling out. It sinks in that I had scaled up the hill, which my house sits on top of, in a thoughtful daze. My mind was wandering in an endless spiral––but my body is here.

     Oh my God, it’s him. I snap back to reality. “I could say the same for you,” I reply casually, folding my arms in front of my chest in a futile attempt to feel less vulnerable.

     “Yes, but I have to go to work, what’s your excuse?”

     “I don’t need an excuse to be up early,” I insist. “And if you have to go to work, why are you just sitting in your truck?”

     “I like to drink my coffee, smoke and catch up on the news before I go. It’s kinda my routine,” he explains as he grabs his coffee mug from the dash.

     “Hm, and I like to walk around my block in the mornings. That’s kinda my routine.”

     “Oh, sassy,” he smirks, taking a sip of coffee out of the large, plain-white mug. Our eyes remain locked as he does so, just like when I took the cigarette with my lips last time we spoke. His golden-brown tanned skin creates the illusion of his iris’ being translucent as his almond shaped, pale-green eyes gaze into mine. He has faint light-brown freckles speckling his face. How have I never noticed them before?

     Then it occurs to me. “Wait, did you just adopt this routine now? Because I’ve been walking every day for the past six months at the same time and I’ve never seen you.”

     “I usually come out after you’ve finished your walk,” he pauses, takes a sip of coffee again, and smiles as he says, “How are you up so early?”

     I roll my eyes. “I just get up early, okay?”

     “Aren’t you like eighteen?” he asks in a condescending chuckle.

     “Nineteen,” I snap, taking a step closer to him and the silver Chevy Silverado. “I’m nineteen.” 

     The previously sweet scent of musky vanilla finds me again but this time, it’s nauseating. Something about the tone of his voice rubs me the wrong way. 

     “Oh my God,” he exclaims in a dramatic near-shout. “Tell me what nineteen year old voluntarily wakes up at five-thirty in the morning.” His head flings back with the mug glued to his lips as he retrieves the final drop of coffee from the bottom of the mug.

     I feel embarrassment crawl up my throat. “Me!” I exclaim defiantly. “I do,” I say as I point my index finger at my chest, jutting my head towards him. A familiar scent immediately harrasses my nose, but it’s not vanilla, weed, or tobacco. I sniff audibly.

     “Is that alcohol?” I ask incredulously.

     “Irish coffee,” he replies casually, raising the mug in the air in faux cheers.

     “Ah,” is all I can say as I stand there dumbfounded. It smells pretty strong to me–– how can he drink that stuff so early in the morning? “I still don’t understand how waking up early is so odd.”

     He sets the mug down on the dashboard. “Waking up early isn’t odd, you just generally don’t see it amongst the people in your age group.” 

     “Oh, right. Sorry Professor Pedo, I forgot you got your PhD in teenaged girls. How old are you again? Fifty-four?”

     “Twenty-seven but that’s irrelevant.”

     “Oh is it?”

     “Yes it is. Now tell me, for research purposes of course, what causes you to wake up at such an early hour?” he asks, stroking an imaginary beard. 

     I flash a dumb smile and humor his question. “Like I said, I like to walk before the sun rises.”

     “Profound!” he says, making a pack of Camels appear in his palm in one swift motion. He hops out the driver’s seat, leans against his truck, and places a cigarette on his lip. “And what time do you sleep to wake up at this hour?”

     I feel my cheeks get warm. I look down at my pristine white sneakers and whisper, “Nine o’clock.”

     “Wow, you’re truly an abnormality in the teen world,” he says flatly as he lights the cigarette hanging limply from his mouth.

     I feel my cheeks get red hot with anger now rather than embarrassment. Would it kill him to be nice to me for one second? 

     I decide to shift the conversation away from my atypicality. “If you’re gonna shit on me, you might as well give me a cigarette.”

     He folds his arms across his chest this time, his meadowy-green eyes squint accusingly. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

     My cheeks get even hotter–– if that’s even possible. “Well…I don’t,” I reply candidly.

     “Then why did you ask to bum one last time we talked?”

     “Because you do it and it seems like a sociable thing to do,” I blurt before I can think. I clasp my hands behind my back to keep him from seeing them shake. “Considering my current state as an abnormality of human nature, I have to find every way I can to fit in.”

     He ignores my reference to his previous rude remark. “Well you shouldn’t. I’m trying to quit,” he says dryly as he takes a drag.

     “Quitting is for losers,” I say softly, kicking an insignificant pebble off of the dry light-gray asphalt road.

     “Is that so, Old Wise One?”

     “Don’t you have to go to work?”

     “Not for another five minutes.”

     “God! Why are you even talking to me?” I spit with uncontrolled frustration. The razor bite of my own voice surprises me. “What?”

     “I was just walking around my block totally spaced out and you could have let me walk right past you without me noticing or just sat in your truck whenever you normally do, but you chose to come out early and stop me and make me feel like shit––and I doubt it was to honestly critique my sleep schedule or point out my abnormalities.”

     Our eyes meet and, while I imagine mine as raging and livid, his are cool and collected. My stomach sinks to the floor. This entire interaction has been incredibly off-putting. The way he spoke about my age and my so-called “abnormalities” was belittling. And while he did push my buttons about the best-friend-thing last time we spoke, he did so in an endearing, witty way. He’s just being a straight-up dick right now.

     “Like I said, I like to get a rise out of you,” he finally responds with a twisted chuckle and takes a drag.

     “Well I don’t appreciate being risen by my friend at six in the morning.”

     “Who said we’re friends?”

     Ouch. “Well obviously we’re not because you think I’m abnormal and make it a point to say it to my face.”

     “Would you rather me say it behind your back?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in question and, in turn, creasing his forehead. 

     “I think it’s been five minutes,” I reply flatly.

     He glances at his phone, “It’s been exactly five minutes. At least your internal clock doesn’t seem to be abnormal.” He flashes a fake smile then hops into the driver’s seat, slams the door, and turns the ignition. I stand dumbfounded yet again–– in awe of his abrasiveness––until he rolls down his window and says, “See you around Old Abnormal One.” 

     “Drive safe Old Alcoholic One!” I shout as his car skids onto the road. 

     I stand in the same place he left me for quite some time–– watching his silver Chevy Silverado turn the corner, hearing him speed off to a distant land, and then standing solemnly in the still morning air, staring at the pebble I had kicked earlier. 

I feel stuck. 

I’m stuck in the same place I’ve always been and can’t move. 

I can’t move.

An overwhelming wave of loneliness washes over me. 

I have to move.

     I trudge to my porch, feeling as if the balloon that grew inside of me every time I spoke to him just popped. The lead returns to the soles of my shoes and that heavy hollowness grows inside my chest once more.

[iwritethat]

Jason Todd: German Shepherd

A/N: Dog Plan 2/?, how could I not write one for Jason???

>>>>———————————>

He had issues. You were god damn sure of it.

Obviously you loved your treasured German Shepherd to pieces and you were 99% certain that Zeus would die for you but that does not mean he wasn't subject to experimentation before you adopted him as a puppy. It was Gotham, that theory was completely liable considering his peculiar sparkling emerald irises.

The dog had a biazzarre habit of sneaking out the fire escape on some nights but always made his return a couple of hours later ready to snuggle up with you. His scent was usually that of gunpowder and cigarettes - again, in Gotham most places smelt like that but you couldn't help but wonder what your partner got up to on his escapades. Regardless, you brought a collar engraved with your address as a precaution. Although once the adventurous canine disappeared for longer than 2 days you began to worry, he was basically your comrade who seemingly understood every word you said so when the door knocked at 3am you skidded over in your hoodie with hopeful eyes.

"Uh hey, I believe this belongs to y- Sun!" The mysterious stranger didn't manage to finish before Zeus hauled his oversized paws over your shoulders nuzzling his nose against your hair on his hind legs, it was a struggle to hold the massive bundle of fluff so much so that you staggered back a little before fussing him in return. A pulsation of shock sprinted through your veins upon recognising his company and the twin guns situated on his thighs but he did just return your dog...

"Thanks for bringing this giant doofus back, I see you've already gotten attached though." You observed expectantly, Zeus standing by your side to stare at the Red Hood who shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Old habit, I've encountered him quite a bit on the streets - at first he went by 'Dog' but eventually I named him Sun Tzu. Then he suddenly shows up with a collar around his neck but I'm glad he has a good home."

"Yeah, Zeus always struck me as a weirdo who apparently sneaks out to play vigilante sidekick but I always pick the odd ones I guess. And Sun Tzu... as in the Art of War?" The man did a double take, he didn't expect you to know who that was.

"He's actually quite useful out there. And that's the one, have you read it?"

"No, but I'd like to. I guess you've got to go save the city but thank you again Red Hood." You waved him off, Zeus with a bark and you'd thought that would be the end of it.

.

Of course it wasn't, Zeus would continue to disappear no doubt on the streets with his apparent 'partner' - they were a deranged reformation of Batman and Robin much to your amusement. Only now you awoke to find an Art of War hardback on your bed rather than a toy with Zeus franticly wagging his tail. Suspiciously, eyeing your dog as you did so, you opened the book to find a scruffy note inside.

'Hopefully Sun Zeus got this to you, thought you'd like it. - Red'

Oh God...

Once you'd read the book, you sat contemplating a reply on your piece of card since you had no paper at this particular time - Zeus laid beside your leg, head resting on your thigh with a bored expression.

'Thanks, it's an incredible book. I'm not sure if I can ask how you are but has the crime world been busy? Gotten any cool cases? I suppose I shouldn't ask that either, well it was a pleasure meeting you the other night and you seem pretty badass but thanks again for taking the time to return my boy. -(Y/n)'

You visually winced as your hands began mimicking your thoughts knowing you were binning this version, with a sigh you stood to find a new piece of card as you couldn't ask a stranger that - let alone the Red Hood. What were you supposed to say anyway? You returned to your couch, clear card inches from your canines nose - you had no idea where he'd obtained the piece but didn't complain, writing a new message before slipping into the book for Zeus to return.

'Thank you for the book, stay safe out in this hellhole. - (Y/n)'

It was no more than a few days until you received a reply neatly tucked into your joyful canines collar despite the torn edges.

'I thought people threw away discarded notes, not write on the back but I'm glad you did it. It's Gotham, of course it's been busy and 'cool cases'? No (Y/n), definitely not. The pleasure was all mine by the way. - Red'

.

The exchanges continued for quite some time, your dog acting as your very own personal messenger, occasionally you'd send over books or on one instance you'd received a bouquet of flowers, of course you'd sent some back to which your correspondent found amusing. Regretfully over the passing 3 months you'd only encountered him under a few circumstances, mostly brought together by the antics of your shared companion but none the less you grew rather fond of each other.

You’d conversed as he sat on your widow ledge after you’d practically forced him to drink a coffee before disappearing back into the depths of Gotham, listening to the latest tale he threw your way. Then you have ran into him and Zeus during a midnight shopping run, the two opting to walk you home that night. It was difficult not to grow close to the man when you see him at least twice a week as well as the letters he continued to write despite already exchanged numbers.

.

Tonight you'd ventured to Big Belly burger, opting for a takeout after an exhausting day but were not expecting the cashiers joyful reaction.

"Ah hello you beautiful boy!"

You gave her a sceptical glance, pausing at the counter before noticing her kind smile was actually directed toward your dog - who shouldn't be inside but alas chose to follow you in anyway.

Zeus wagged his tail at the familiar welcoming, the woman walking around the counter to pet him much to your confusion, you were hungry after all but due to the happiness both parties displayed you saw no harm in waiting 5 minutes more.

"Where's your handsome owner? Can't be far behind no?" A pink hue settled on her cheeks, whoever this supposed master was apparently captured her romantic interest, regardless Zeus moved to sit by your side, leaning against your leg before releasing a bark.

"Dork." You tutted, tousling his ear.

The woman politely smiled, seemingly understanding the gesture but you didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

"Ah you brought his lovely partner with you today hm? Well now the flowers make sense, you are a lucky one, I didn’t think men like that existed. I'll prepare his usual and what would you like this evening?" Her cheery attitude returned as she began preparing your alleged lover's signature order much to your quiet protest. Suspicion overwhelmed you by wondering what other companions your dog had - Zeus trotted over to the exit as the bell rang signifying a person entering/leaving the diner.

"Hey Sun. You waiting for me or somethin'?" Immediately your eyes widened, the familiar nickname of your canine and the way he spoke making your heart race.

However you didn't want to make your presence known, having assumed the Red Hood wouldn't be dressed as such - not if the waitress was so flawed by him. Although credit due, he already had a stunning body in his vigilante attire...

This was the man your dog trusted every night - the one who wrote you letters and had a beautiful way with words. The one who had the waitress before you blushing like a school girl by his mere presence alone. With a careless sigh, you directed your attention to the two only stopping a few away - the scene bringing an admiring smirk to your face, the very attractive ravenette knelt before your companion both talking an fussing him like they were the best of friends, which you supposed they were after all of their adventures.

The male shot a quick glance to the person they were supposedly holding up, once recognising you he hesitated before standing and moving to speak. That is, before you cut him off.

"Don't worry babe, I got yours too. Sit and eat with me?" Your tone was casual as if you’d both done this many times before, like you hadn’t just laid eyes on him, yet it held an underlying demand as you held the paper bag out toward him.

It wasn't exactly a choice, regardless of how effortless fabricating a relationship was between the two of you. He immediately collaborated with your intentions, knowing that there must be a reason for you to act this way.

"Always doll, I've got some news for you anyway." He must've understood that you deducted who he was, and so guided you to the nearest table with Zeus following.

.

"So..." The man awkwardly started, unsure of how to go about the situation and truthfully neither did you but addressed the main question hanging in the air.

"Before you ask it was Zeus, no one calls him Sun except his partner in crime and there's also how happy he was to see you, I knew straight away."

"Hah, can't believe he betrayed me like this. But I'm kinda glad (Y/n), although was the pet name thing really necessary?" Was his reply as he began eating much like you had, the atmosphere became more casual with your shared amusement thanks to Zeus' previous antics.

"Firstly Red, you started it ages ago. Secondly, I don't know your real name and finally, the cashier thinks we're together thanks to our 'shared ownership' of Zeus. Rather disappointing actually, the lady does seem fond of you." Of course you'd defended yourself, the position you'd put yourselves in was somewhat embarrassing but all you think of at the time.

"All valid points I admit, and I've noticed but hey, if we're together I guess she can move on. And it's Jason by the way, Jason Todd."

"Jason... It's not how I expected to find out your identity but I'm not complaining, you've got good taste in fast food."

"Yeah, honestly this isn't how I'd imagined things to go either." He shook his head, shy smile on his face almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

"How so?"

"I would've preferred to tell you that I'm a vigilante at least a few dates in, not the best starting point is it?"

"No but it’s definitely interesting. How about this be our first date and we can go from there? It's a proper thank you for bringing my fluffball back home." Zeus released an obnoxious whine at the nickname from his place on the floor beside the table where he'd chose to lie down as Jason laughed but agreed none the less.

"Since you've so kindly paid for this one (Y/n), the next date is on me."

"I've just found out you're a gun wielding crimelord - what makes you think there's going to be a next one?"

Upon hearing your playful tone Zeus immediately sat up, barked as if making an argument whilst wagging his tail and looking between the two of you proudly. Jason smirked, gesturing toward Zeus as he answered.

"He does."

[sunnylildragun]

A promise

Day 5 of the Bumbleby Week! Hope you all enjoy it ^-^

Blake had been staring at her all day long. Those golden orbs had been following her every movement, not once leaving her body. The attentive gaze held many emotions Yang couldn't name, but they were there. The blonde wouldn't be bothered if she knew where her partner's sudden interest in her came from. Blake usually just daydreamed in classes, or did some sketches, and some times took notes. So for her to be so focused on the brawler... something had to be up. Right?

'Right,' Yang silently decided, making a mental note to talk to the other girl once the last class of the day was over.

Thinking about it, though, Blake had been acting strangely around her ever since Team RWBY- plus Sun and Neptune- went out on their secret investigation. The raven haired girl would stare at her for a long time, and then her gaze would drift away when she noticed Yang was looking back. She observed Yang's training routine. She followed the blonde around, reading a book so the 'I didn't notice where I was going' excuse would work. And it did work in the first few days.

Today was too much for Yang, though. She needed to know what in Remnant was making Blake act so weird. They were partners, after all. She couldn't just let something like this slip. What if it damages their partnership? Or worse, their friendship?

The blonde's heart clenched with the thought. No, she couldn't let that happened. She couldn't lose Blake's friendship. She won't let herself lose it.

Yang decided it was best to pay attention to class and take some notes. Overthinking would do her no good, since it would create only assumptions and false expectations. Her eyes turned from the spot on a random place to Professor Oobleck, following the man as he ranted about something on Faunus History.

"Miss Xiao Long!" He chose her as the victim of a new question. "Tell me more about the Menagerie Island!" His voice was fast, caffeine ridden.

"Um... it's a tropical island to the southeast of Anima. The main settlement is Kuo Kuana, where the chieftain and most of the population live. The island has a large desert, too, which is said to have a lot of dangers and rare, not listed Grimm. It's said to be a very beautiful and peaceful place, but it's also explicit that there were intentions of segregation behind giving the place to the faunus. I mean... instead of actually putting effort on inclusive policies, the governments just said 'oh, you don't wanna be discriminated? Then don't bother living with us'. Hiding the dirt of discrimination under the carpet doesn't solve anything. Instead, it creates grudges and incites more violence."

By the end of her answer, all eyes were on Yang. She figured it was because no one actually expected her to answer like that. Or to answer at all. The only one who didn't have a surprised look was Blake, whose eyes expressed affection and pride.

"Hah." She heard Cardin Winchester's annoying voice, and already had the urge to punch him in the face. "As if any of that matters. For me, that's where they belong."

"Well, it does matter. If you actually did your homework instead of harassing students who're here to actually do something useful with their lives, you'd know that." Yang said, eyes burning his face. "And you don't have a say in where faunus do or do not belong if you don't even bother with their cause, or isn't one of them. So please, and I'm begging for everyone in this room that isn't you or your minions, kindly shut up."

Cardin looked angry, but he didn't want to be further humiliated by the blonde's assertive words. Just in time, the Professor cleared his throat and got the attention back to himself.

"Ms. Xiao Long is correct! Both about Menagerie and about the importance of caring about the Faunus Rights cause! You see, class, many issues in our society are provoked by the bad relations between faunus and humans..." and the rant went on, but Yang wasn't able to follow as Blake tapped her shoulder.

"That was good." The ravenette whispered, smiling at her partner with soft eyes.

"My answer to Oobleck or the part where I roasted Cardin?"

Blake chuckled, the hand on Yang's shoulder squeezing as she kept eye contact. "Both."

They kept looking at each other for some moments, their Professor's voice seeming more as a distant noise. The way they lost themselves in each other, just admiring the immensity of purple and yellow, was incredible. Blake's hand absentmindedly ran Yang's right arm, and settled over the blonde's own. The brawler's hand was unsurprisingly warm, a pleasant contrast to the faunus' own cold one. Yang's heart was beating so fast that she thought of just crossing the line between friends and lovers already.

Their moment was interrupted by the bell ringing, signaling the end of the class. Yang cursed it, as it was so rare- too rare- for Blake to initiate displays of affection. She was glad, though, because it meant she was going to be able to actually talk to her partner.

"Blake." The taller girl called the other's name as they exited the classroom.

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk?"

"Aren't we already talking?" Blake smirked teasingly, but there was a certain nervousness to it.

"You know what I mean." Yang rolled her eyes, smiling. "And I actually want to talk to you... alone."

"Something wrong?" There was concern in the shorter girl's eyes, and the blonde couldn't help but smile reassuringly at her.

"Not really, it's just... I don't know if it's something personal or not. Wouldn't want to have people listening to it, yeah?"

"Um... I guess?"

"So, can we talk?"

"Sure."

They dropped their books in their respective lockers, and then headed to the gardens of the Academy. They chose a very isolated spot and sat on the grass. The feeling of cool wind against their skin made them shiver a bit, but nothing that could bother them. They were face to face, but not quite looking at each other. Yang could see Blake's uneasiness, how her eyes looked everywhere but her, how her posture was tense, how her fingers were fidgeting in her lap. Those signs were small, but the brawler had learned to read Blake like a book and could capture every small detail.

Deciding to put an end to her partner's anxiety, Yang finally spoke.

"Blake, look, I don't know what's going through your mind, but you didn't do anything wrong. And I'm not mad, but..." Yang trailed off, not knowing how to word what she was thinking.

"But?" Blake asked, her heart beating hard and fast, a lump forming in her throat. How many times had she heard those words? 'I'm not mad, but...' and then a speech on everything that was wrong with her. He made sure she would fear it when someone started speaking to her like that. He scolded, and manipulated, and hurt her. Adam broke her.

But Yang wasn't him. No matter what the similarities- her semblance, her aggressive way of fighting, her temper at times- told her, she wasn't him at all.

"It's just... ever since our fight against Roman, you've been staring at me. Like, a lot. Almost all the time, and I wanted to know why. If there's something wrong, or something you'd like to talk about..."

Blake sighed in relief, but at the same time taken aback by the blonde's words. "I... uh..."

"It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it. I don't wanna pressure you or anything, I just wanted to know because I thought I might have done something wrong and that I hurt you. But if I did do something wrong, I guess I'm making it even worse and-"

"Yang, hey, slow down." Blake said. "You didn't do anything wrong. I've been acting weird because I'm worried."

"Worried? Why?"

"When Torchwick punched you and you went through that pillar, I... I thought you got hurt. Like, really hurt. And Ruby told me about your semblance, but it only made me even more worried. I understood why you threw yourself head into the danger. And I've been thinking... what if there's an opponent who can actually hurt you? What if throwing yourself into them isn't enough? I... I don't know what I would do if..." Blake swallowed, and then sighed. "You're my partner and the best friend I have, Yang. I can't handle seeing you get hurt."

"So... you've been observing me because you think I may get hurt?"

Blake nodded. "And I've been trying to think of ways that I can make myself better for it. So you don't have to always do that, so you don't have to take everything for us..."

"I appreciate it, Blake. Really, I do." The blonde took her partner's hands in her own, squeezing. "But you don't have to go out of your way just to make sure I'm safe. My semblance, my fighting style, my abilities... they come from taking what I can and sending it back. I feel it so I know what I'm giving back. I understand your worry, but honestly, the way you fight complements me perfectly. It's already perfect. You are the perfect partner for me, Blake."

Blake squeezed Yang's hands back, her heart beating faster. She stared deep into purple orbs, and the blonde held her gaze. Once again, they were lost in each other. This time it was more intimate, though. One of Yang's hands went to Blake's cheek, wiping a tear that the faunus didn't know she was spilling. The other went to her partner's shoulder, thumb rubbing it through the uniform blazer. Blake leaned in, resting her forehead against Yang's, hands on the blonde's arms.

"Just please... try to be more careful..."

"I'll try."

They stayed a bit more like that, as butterflies and birds flew around them. It was a beautiful place, a hidden garden where their love for each other grew even more. The bonding moment was the most intimate they had had to that day, and it made their partnership and friendship grow.

-+-

Yang's eyes opened as she woke up in her bed at her house in Patch. She stared at the ceiling for some minutes, and then the tears started falling. She closed her eyes and sobbed softly, trying to keep quiet. It was the first time in a few weeks that she hadn't had a nightmare, but this memory was as emotionally wrecking as any other she niggt terror that haunted her. The happy moments she had with Blake when they were still in Beacon before everything fell... they were the ones that got to her the most.

She didn't say it, but she missed her.

She didn't see it, but she wanted her there.

She didn't think it, but she needed Blake Belladonna almost like she needed air to breathe.

Yang looked to her right, seeing what was left of her arm. She let out another sob, thinking of the promised she made to Blake all these months ago.

"I tried..."

[scoobydoominuscoobydoo]

Why we started shipping Shaphne. Just Random Rambling-

I’m gonna go ahead and say this is not an argument on why Shaphne is better than Fraphne because no ship in better than another, especially in the Scooby-Doo universe.

I’m gonna take a few moments to discuss the worst portrayal that ruined my opinion on Fraphne for a long time. 

And just because Shaphne is always gonna be the OTP of this blog doesn’t mean I don’t get why people ship Fraphne. I’ve seen every incarnation of Fraphne to date and they actually are cute, I get it.

Okay with that, let’s have some fun!

Mystery Incorporated:

Let’s start by addressing the only Scooby show that actually made Fraphne canon, and how they managed to screw it up so poorly it wasn’t even funny.

Now listen, MI was the incarnation I grew up with so I do actually have a lot of sentiment attached to it. But I am not going to argue with the fact that it did a poor job of characterizing all of the gang, Scooby included.

It tried it’s best to try and flesh out the gang to have them feel more, real. Like actual teenagers.

But oh my Lord they just made it worse.

And I think the one who got the worst of it was Daphne.

Her amazing and well rounded character that had existed since forever had been pushed down to the pretty girl that had a crush on Fred. And for most of the first season none of her actions were outside of her crush shenanigans. 

And she absolutely did not deserve that, Daphne was not part of Scooby-Doo solely to be Fred’s love interest. Way back in 1969 they understood that because Daph’s actions did not revolve around Fred 24/7.

When I watched the show when I was younger I never caught onto just how much of her “development” was her managing to get Fred to say something romantic to her. I honestly love the episodes in season 2 where Daphne isn’t in love with anybody because she actually gets the chance to just be herself.

Be quirky awkward Daphne.

And then she comes full circle and returns to having the same kind of relationship she had with Fred in season 1.

When they were together it wasn’t any better.

Rewatching the episodes when they were dating now when I’m older honestly made me uncomfortable. And when they got engaged it was laughable how poorly that was executed. Tbh I’m sure Fred had no idea that he proposed to Daph and just went along with whatever she said.

Then he just goes ahead and dumps her like it’s not painful or any sort of big deal while it actually crushes Daph enough to distance herself from the rest of the gang.

Season 2 Fred made me incredibly freaked out, like I love Fred Jones to bits and pieces but MI season 2 Freddie was the worst version of him and anyone who believes otherwise can explain why they disagree. 

I’m honestly curious if other people weren’t bothered by his disturbing behavior towards Daph for the beginning of that season.

Anyway bottom line, MI was why I had lost interest in Fraphne.

And why I gained a new interest in Shaphne.

I’m sure everyone remembers that episode in season 2 where...um...stuff happened.

Mod Silas is still convinced they slept together and I feel like it’s strongly implied but whatever.

That’s not what made me ship Shaphne since during all of that Daphne though Shag was Fred and Shag also thought he was Fred. Anyone feel like explaining how they managed to experience the same hallucination? So seeing that whole thing as Shaphne does kinda seem pointless.

What made me ship them was the short scene that happened afterward.

Both Shag and Daph quickly figured out what had happened and for like a few seconds they just stare at each other and don’t say anything. Like no panic or weirdness until Fred and Scoob reacted.

Shaggy ogles over being kissed by an angel, like twice I think.

Now both of those things don’t seem like a huge deal until you remember how much of a disaster these two’s relationships in the past were.

Both of them being in very forceful and controlling relationships.

Now it’s very probable that both of those reasons mean absolutely nothing and of course I’m reading into things as always.

But that was enough to catch my attention and pull me down into a void.

Because I’m gonna go ahead and be 100% honest with everyone:

Shaphne is never gonna be canon!

We all know it.

This isn’t a Riverdale/Bughead situation where people had wanted Betty and Jughead to get together long before the idea of Riverdale was created.

People were always for Fred and Daphne. And since the dawn of time it’s been clear that Fred and Daph are always gonna be each other’s respective love interest.

Hence why Shaphne is a void of pain.

But as I became open to the idea of it I made an observation.

Though Shag and Daph have very little interaction in most of the shows it was enough.

Shaggy and Daphne always take care of and understand each other. And it’s also super obvious that Daphne is very protective of Shaggy. Different from how she’s protective of the rest of the gang.

I’m not sure why their dynamic has always been like that, but it’s a dynamic that’s survived all the way into the modern age which means a lot to me.

Another thing that’s clear is Daphne loves Scooby.

Possibly just as much as Shaggy does idk.

The significance of that fact is best explained through a motto that Mod Silas and I have always had since we started shipping it:

“You can’t get Shaggy without getting Scooby.”

This was the biggest amount of drama with Shelma in MI was that Velma always saw Scooby as a dumb dog, as Shaggy’s pet, when it came to their relationship. And never saw him as Shag’s best friend, which is exactly what he is.

So when Shag broke up with her, she chose to blame the dog even though the reason he gave her was he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship.

And for the rest of the show Velma only ever gives Scoob sarcastic and condescending treatment.

 But Daphne has always loved Scooby, that much is clear,

Scooby and Daphne’s bond within MI alone is something to be appreciated.

And over the course of time I just kind of enjoyed the fact that Shaggy and Daphne would have a very healthy relationship, platonic or otherwise, if it had ever been further explored.

That’s a good portion of Shaphne, unexplored potential. 

And it’s definitely gonna stay unexplored.

However MI was just the beginning of my unhealthy Shaphne obsession.

The rest of the Universe:

Now the other Scooby shows had me approaching Shaphne differently because I wasn’t comparing it to Fraphne or Shelma in anyway since I didn’t have anything against the other incarnations of the ships.

For this I was able to just appreciate the dynamic Shag and Daph provided as a whole and not have to have that be my central focus for whatever show I was watching.

Like I can actual enjoy the friendship between the gang.

This version of Shaphne is the most relaxed and the one I wish got more attention, because this is the one where you see that they respect and understand each other. They also seem bonded over their love and protectiveness over Scooby which always gets me grinning like an idiot.

Daphne being protective of Shag is also another nice thing that’s presented.

However, in the old Hanna Barbera cartoons, romance was never supposed to be the main focus, or even really an element in the shows.

And to be fair romance isn’t meant to be the center of Scooby-Doo, it’s the friendship between four kids from very different social classes. 

I will say that shipping Shaphne and keeping up with all of the made for TV films is typically a treat since there are a good handful of them that just provide plenty of scenes showing the perfect dynamic they share.

For people who are looking for recommendations I’d say #1 is Scooby-Doo and the Legend of the Phantosaur, which on it’s own is a really good movie just to watch. But the Shaphne on top of it is a nice addition.

For #2 I’d say both of those live-action movies Cartoon Network made. The Mystery Begins and Curse of the Lake Monster.

While I have problems with those movies, *cough cough* Fred with brown hair *cough cough* 

I think those movies do the best job of portraying Shaggy and Daphne’s relationship and it’s really sweet to watch.

13 Ghosts + New Scooby and Scrappy:

I’m gonna go ahead and finish this off with the two key pieces in the Shaphne art museum.

I’m sure everyone is already aware of the existence of the two shows where it’s just Shag and Daph and company.

These are the ones where we actually get to see Shaggy and Daphne work as a team it’s all I ever needed and more. While the main reason these exist is because Shaggy was the most popular character and then they added Daph ‘cause they needed a pretty girl.

“How to make a famous cartoon in the 70′s 101.”

Now both of these shows focus like a lot more on the “comedic relief” and their fun shenanigans than on the duo but that’s to be expected since this show was made for kids.

But for the most part it’s worth sitting through Flim Flam just always talking and never shutting up or Scrappy constantly saying “Puh-pup-puuuppyy Powweerrr!!” Every 8 seconds to see Shag and Daph in the background acting like overwhelmed babysitters that aren’t getting paid enough.

Plus there was all that fun drama where people thought they were living in the same house together.

While I am very certain that these shows don’t exist because everyone at HB was secretly the biggest Shaphne shippers in the world, I am very thankful for them.

In then end I think the reasons I ship Shaphne aren’t because I want the underdog to get the girl in the end. And I don’t want it to be like some sort of ‘guy on the wrong side of the tracks dating a pretty, rich girl.’

I really just want these two to be happy and functional and honest and themselves.

I always just see it as them being there for each other because though they may be really different people it’s never bothered them before. I just see two people who accept and help each other and that’s just something I see even though their dynamic gets no screen time.

At the end of the day Shaphne is always gonna be a fill in the blanks kinda ship. 

And I’m fine with that.

-Mod Ninja 

[bookaddict24-7]

MUSIC MONDAYS:

A series where I recommend a book, review it, and create a short playlist to give a sense of what the book is about.

This review may contain spoilers.

Disclaimer: I received a copy via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.

This week’s feature is a book that had me on all kinds of emotional roller coasters. On one hand, I was a naive reader and I thought I knew what was best for the characters, but on the other hand, I was also a frustrated reader because of the protagonist’s at times naive behaviour. But I learned quickly that this book wasn’t just about the awful events that Mafi’s character’s suffer, it’s about finding and believing the hope that not everyone you meet is going to be a jerk; it’s about finding a reason to hope that perhaps certain people deserve more credit than we initially give them. 

A Very Large Expanse of Sea by Tahereh Mafi is a powerful story set in 2002, one year after the events of 9/11. While there have been many novels about the after-effects of that tragic day, Mafi manages to write a memorable novel about a teenage American Muslim girl trying to find her path in a brand new high school. Shirin is pretty sure that the best way to protect herself is to expect the worst from the strangers around her. After all, they judge her when they first meet her, right? Until one boy seemingly doesn’t and his interest could offer Shirin a new perspective. What could happen if she allows herself to fall for someone the rest of the world doesn’t see fit for her? What could happen if her protective walls start to come down? 

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I really enjoyed this. Hell, I will be recommending this to the readers coming into the bookstore until I go blue. But, with that being said, this wasn’t a perfect read. I’ll get my big negative point out of the way so I can fangirl about the things I did love about this book. 

My biggest concern is the portrayal of Ocean. While I can see the way his imperfect character learns some vital lessons due to the way he is portrayed, I am also slightly disappointed that he was shown as such a “perfect” white male character. He was a very good™ character, despite his troubled past. It’s literally one of his characteristics. While I can understand the importance of having someone who sees the world that way Ocean does in a book like this one, it was done in a very unrealistic way. No one is that naive, especially in 2002. Even those who hope for the best from humanity have to have seen the tension growing in the States between the different citizens. I am privileged because I did not experience the wave of hate that came on the heels of 9/11. However, my mother dated an asshole before she met my stepdad and he was from NYC. When he was visiting us here in Canada, he yelled some pretty racist stuff to people who were minding their own business. 

I personally didn’t experience the hate so many lived with in the early 2000′s and the hate that so many still live with now, but in that brief moment I saw how someone that I once thought was cool could hide such a darker side. It was a lesson I never forgot and I can still remember where we were and how he looked yelling that disgusting crap out of our car window. 

My point with this digression is that while I can understand Ocean’s purpose in this book--because Shirin is understandably jaded and careful and we need a character to show her that hope still exists--but his over-the-top naïveté and wishful ignorance made it hard for me to completely fall into the story whenever his “goodness” was mentioned. 

For all of his annoyingly chipper behaviour, Ocean does grow in this novel. He learns to hope, but it comes at a price. While I wasn’t a fan of how he is presented in this novel, I did feel for him and his experiences. Having your positivity thrown in your face isn’t a great experience. 

With all of that being said, however, the rest of the book was just incredible. At first, I didn’t know how to feel about Shirin. I will admit that I became a victim of my own opinions and tried to place my expectations on her. She was a very careful character who knew her own world much better than I did. I fell into the trap of expecting certain things from her, but was happy to experience Shirin’s growth into a character far beyond what I expected her to be. Don’t get me wrong, Shirin was at times naive not unlike Ocean. However, he expected the best and she expected the worst. This at times also grated on my nerves because I wanted her to at least try. 

One of the great things I loved about this book was how Shirin grew to have hope. In a story where so many bad things happen to her because of who she loves, what her beliefs are, and how she looks, it’s incredible to see her grow into a person who is ready to take on the future. Also, I admired how important it was to her to remain true to her identity. She didn’t let the bullying, or the anger thrown at her dissuade her from her beliefs. 

Another interesting point was the comment on how fickle young minds can be. It’s interesting because of how true it is to see how some teenagers follow the pack mind, but most move on until their actions become a regrettable memory. There’s a point where Shirin even comments on how weird her classmates are when their opinions waver and change in certain situations. Even this message gives the reader a sense of hope because it shows that swaying public opinion isn’t as impossible as we might think it is. 

Also, I’m just throwing this in here because it’s still a point of interest in 2018: the double-standard on how boys are raised compared to how girls are raised. The leniency that Shirin’s brother is shown in regards to dating, going out, and the rules is staggering in comparison to Shirin’s own rules. Thankfully, it wasn’t an impossible hurdle for Shirin’s story, but it was something mentioned and I wasn’t entirely surprised to see that we’re still struggling with this today. 

One other topic I want to mention before I finish is that of Shirin’s parents. The differences between immigrant parents who’ve strived for a better life for their families and the children who grew up in the new country was not lost on me. Shirin’s allusions to her parents’ dark pasts made me incredibly sad for Shirin and her brother. I personally believe that everyone has their own struggles. It doesn’t matter how large my struggle is compared to the next person--everyone has a struggle. To tell your children that their struggles aren’t important or as impossible to overcome because they didn’t grow up in a war-torn country is deeply disheartening. Especially when those struggles include racism and physical abuse at the hands of people full of hate. Like many other things in this book, this broke my heart. 

Putting aside all of the sadness, this was a beautifully written book. I fell in love with Mafi’s writing through her middle grade series and I was a tiny bit hesitant going into this one. I was very happy to see that I still enjoy her writing!

 But like other important Young Adult novels coming out recently, I think this is an important book to read. It may not be set in our present time, but it is set in one of the most recent dark times in our history. Racism is always a dark subject to read about, but it’s also something that needs to be talked about. Mafi’s book is something that everyone should aspire to read, if not for the incredible messages of hope and growth and understanding, then for the jarring realities of what it was like to be a young Muslim woman in 2002. 

My Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

Age Recommendation: 13+

Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Racism 

Add it to your Goodreads here.

See the playlist on Spotify here.

The Playlist & Why I Chose this Music:

1. What A Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong

This is the kind of song that is played when we want to remember that though the world may look like crap, there are still things and people who are worth the fight to make the world a better place. Also, this song goes back to the theme of hope. 

2. Don’t Phunk With My Heart by The Black Eyed Peas

So, because this is set a year before I started high school (it’s...been a while), I went ahead and reconnected with a bunch of songs from my teenage years. Anyway, the lyrics to this song remind me of Ocean’s struggle in trying to get Shirin to admit she’s into him. That boy’s heart took a beating in this book. 

3. Lose Control (FT. Ciara & Fat Man Scoop) by Missy Elliott

Shirin and her brother are badass breakdancers. If you’ve ever heard this song, then you know that the lyrics and the beat will immediately make you want to dance. This song connects us to Shirin’s surprisingly fun and cool side. 

4. What You Waiting For? by Gwen Stefani

While one of the songs chosen was for Ocean’s poor heart, this song is for Shirin’s scared heart. She wants something that she’s afraid will destroy her world, but she has to be prepared to take a chance first. 

5. White America by Eminem

This song is pretty self-explanatory. I know this is a controversial choice, but I honestly thought of this song first when it came time to choosing a playlist. Eminem’s lyrics and uncensored observations touch on some of the issues explored in Mafi’s novel. 

6. No Surprises by Radiohead

There’s a moment in the book where we get to see some of Shirin’s music. This song was on the playlist she had created and I thought it was fitting to include it in my fan playlist. I always like including songs that the characters themselves reference. 

7. Mr. Brightside by The Killers

This is all of Ocean’s sunny disposition and his unrealistic expectations of the world around him. While the lyrics themselves don’t correlate with Ocean and Shirin’s relationship, the ironic title of the song and the darker undertones of the seemingly chipper beat shows that things aren’t always what they seem. Ocean learns a lot from his experiences and this song shows a man who is learning to not be Mr. Brightside.

Have you read this book yet? Would you recommend it?

Happy reading!

[bossubao]

The Queen and the Huntress

A/N: Both characters portrayed in this fanfic do not belong to me, but the wonderful developers of Warframe, Digital Extremes. After seeing an artist on Twitter do their renditions of certain frames together, I was struck with an incredible desire to write something to get my feels out and I officially ship Ivara x Titania (sorry Oberon, I love you but these two are just mmph.) Sorry to those of you who are staring at a wall of text - first time posting on tumblr so forgive me. Rating: M for sexual content. Read at your own discretion.

-------- This was no regular mission.

In fact, the trip to Earth felt more a “vacation” if you didn’t count the vast number of troops stationed on its surface and the sickly green areas they inhabited. The commander was less-than-pleased by the plea for a few days’ reprieve from the slew of deployments and missions, due to the fact she needed her for infiltration sorties. But when the huntress remembered the bullshit that happened a few days ago, her response was a flat out ‘no’ even though she wasn’t the one who requested the break.

“Titania,” she finally spat out, waving her hand over her head at the razorwings buzzing in front of her face and above her head. “Would you please tell your damnable butterflies to sit still for two more seconds?” Light laughter filled the air along with her impatient fingers drumming on the surface of the navigation console.

“I cannot blame them for wanting to be free of this cramped space.” Cramped space referring to the drop ship otherwise known as the ‘Liset,’ one of many variations of the agile craft. Ideally, it would be enough to hold an adult and a small child let alone two full grown women and some pesky flying insects. They couldn’t complain when their commander gave them permission to use it given the fact other missions were still being conducted at their time of departure. “Tell them to wait. I don’t want to crash us coming in.”

“Whatever pleases you, Ivara.” Titania, one of the Earth guardians and responsible for a large portion of its vast forests. Also responsible for a begrudgingly approved leave and benefactor of this journey.

Piloting the Liset was actually far easier than expected, if only for the first portion of the journey. Preset protocols included activating anti-heat shields and adjusting flight patterns to bring it into the upper atmosphere. This part always remained the same no matter which planet (or moon) they chose. The huntress tapped a few buttons before taking a hold of the controls herself – nothing more than a holographic projection digitally connected to the fine-tuned mechanics of the ship itself. It gave the driver full control, which she had no problems with given her mission records. You could give a wrench to a MOA to bash against something and that was harder than bringing the craft to a gentle landing.

Of course, if they planned to leave the Liset on a normal docking platform and not somewhere in the middle of the Void-forsaken forests.

Ivara spotted a clearing in the middle of the tangled forests below. Far enough from prying eyes… it’ll have to do. She pulled the ship into a hover and with a careful hand managed to land with only the smallest of bumps. The woman switched off the engines and stood up only to find a pair of slender arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind. “You’ve brought us close, thank you Ivara.”

Her ire grew along with the heat in her face when Titania kissed her cheek. “Would you please get off me? We’re here now.”

Not a second after the ramp dropped did the forest guardian vanish from sight. Ivara rolled her eyes and walked to the back of the ship to pick up her gear. Even though they had a low chance of running into stray patrols, she felt safer with her basic arsenal. She strapped Quiver – a strange contraption holding several half-fletched arrows – to her arm and belted a full, regular quiver of regal-looking arrows at her hip. Artemis Bow proved better equipped to dispatch targets but for the purpose of energy conservation and not needing it out here, Daikyu fulfilled that role perfectly. She slotted a few deadly looking blades in the casing on her other thigh and a dagger to her boot. Okay, maybe she was being extra safe and too careful for a supposedly ‘safe’ trip.

The muggy air hit her like a charging Juggernaut. Despite growing accustomed to it on her hunts it took a few seconds to adjust from the cool, clean cabin air. It was quiet, not the kind that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up but the kind of quiet she enjoyed when alone. Her travelling companion wasn’t too far away – her razorwings were a dead giveaway – and Ivara found her hanging upside down from a branch. Hair as vibrant as cadenzas swayed with the breeze and electric blue eyes bore mischievously into her dim cyan ones. Ivara kept her eyes focused on her face instead of trailing higher to the jewel situated between two perfect swells. “You looked prepared for a war, huntress.”

She quirked an eyebrow. The pixie (well, currently in humanoid form) wore nothing more than a simple, collared tunic with a V dropping down to her navel, skin-tight pants that left just enough to the imagination, and leather boots that actually looked like the most practical out of her entire ensemble. Compared to Ivara’s mini-arsenal, Titania danced around with not a single weapon in sight. Honestly she didn’t need anything if she already had weapons at her disposal; the deceptive, glowing creatures fluttered idly and a couple actually landed on the huntress’ arm. The huntress shook her head as if warding off intrusive thoughts - old observation habits were starting to get to her. “I’m always prepared. This is the bare necessities.”

The pixie gave her a reassuring smirk. It was unfavorably attractive and Ivara knew without a doubt Titania had ulterior motives bringing her here. “You are in my domain, you need not worry.”

Still, she didn’t cave in to this one instance of indulgence. “I’m just here to be sure you return safely.”

The woman folded her arms over her chest and frowned deeply. The razorwings buzzed a little more in Ivara’s ears. “I am a guardian of this forest. I need no protection.”

“I’m well aware.” With the way Titania carried herself among the flora, it was hard to imagine her anything but that. “I don’t want to have Commander Arans-Oxford hide me if something did happen, since you asked for me to accompany you here and not the other way around. Not that I had any intentions of letting it happen in the first place.”

Heat suffused her cheeks without her approval when the taller woman drawled in a plethora of cute noises and slung her arms across her shoulders. Ivara looked away pointedly but knew without a doubt her current companion enjoyed her embarrassment. “Aw, is little, grumpy you worried about me getting hurt? I’m actually quite flattered.”

Ivara was a mistress of the hunt, a title no one else held for good reason. But when compared to what Titania did to dedicate herself to the forest – suddenly her esteemed pride felt smaller than a kuaka’s claw despite the compliment. She closed her eyes briefly to regain control of her composure and give her face enough time to cool off. “What are you looking for here anyway?”

“A particularly rare strain of a flower.” She watched in mild disbelief as Titania peeled away and vaulted herself into a perfect arc up to a nearby tree. “You’re serious.”

“I am.” The deadpan tone was about as humorless as Titania could get, which was actually impressive given her lighthearted personality most of the time.

Ivara pinched the bridge of her nose at the steadily growing headache between her eyes. A part of her was a bit miffed they were here for one particular thing, and a larger part wondered what exactly it was about this particular plant that warranted time off to search for. “Okay, so you’re telling me we asked the Commander for a full two days off, specifically for a trip to Earth in some god-forsaken remote location that isn’t even mapped throughout history…To. Look. For. A. Flower.”

“Is there any difference when spending time lounging in the recreational rooms or polishing weapons on breaks? Everyone has different priorities, mine simply happen to be with Earth-related activities. So yes, it is to look for a ‘flower.’”

“I suppose not.” Ivara could feel them teeter on the edge of a dangerous line, one she had no intentions of crossing intentionally lest she feel the wrath of the pixie. And as far as she knew, it would not be a pleasant experience. “Why couldn’t we do something else like go on a hunt? I feel like they would be at least a little more enjoyable for the both of us.”

The pixie scowled and came an inch of the huntress’ personal space. Titania made no effort to hide her annoyance. “Are we not here on my terms?”

Ivara frowned visibly, arms crossed over her chest. “We are, but wasn’t it you who said I needed a break? I prefer hunting for game, not for plants.” Which was a complete lie in itself; the huntress knew for a fact the forests and its inhabitants were one and the same - an enticing flower was about as deadly as a mother kubrow looking for her missing pups. And though she never voiced it, every expedition they came on together to Earth always brought new knowledge she soaked up like a sponge.

Of course Ivara had learned long ago how to keep a good poker face, so Titania was none the wiser in assuming the truth despite her age and the huntress knew she struck a raw nerve.

“Is that what you really believe, huntress? I was under the impression you were a clever, smart woman, but perhaps I was wrong.” Before she could reply, the guardian flew off and blew a burst of orange magic into her face. She coughed on the surge of – quite literally – pixie dust and waved her hand to dispel some of it.

Regret filled her stomach. She hadn’t mean to upset Titania – the forests around herself resonated with the pixie’s anger and she felt the air grow thick with hostility. From agreeing to shepherd the woman to Earth and accompanying her when even Oberon wouldn’t, she though she did enough a favor for her. Ivara wiped her face with a hand to clear her mind. It would do no good to dwell on such thoughts and she cast Prowl. It wouldn’t do much to actually keep her safe from the trees itself since she was the only ‘foreign’ presence but if it gave her some measure of comfort, then she’d hide herself in her illusions. Ivara gave the Liset a longing glance, the last place of sanctuary she could have taken, before slinking off to track down the pixie against her better judgement.

Most of the last two days consisted of trekking across canyons and rivers through the thickest and densest parts of the forest. At one point she considered turning back to send a message back to her commander about a possible extension on their break, but the longer she went without seeing the pixie the worse her anxieties got. Ivara spent a good portion of her trek keeping track of the traces Titania left behind, which proved near-impossible when the woman was capable of flying. It was a miracle she even managed this far - she thanked her experience with tracking kubrodons on Orb Vallis. Ivara paused at a particularly large trunk and set down the large condroc slung across her back. The pesky bird nipped at her feet when she stopped to rest one time and without a second thought slew the beast before it could so much as let out another squawk. Titania was still nowhere in sight and she let out a long, tired sigh. Tracking like this usually meant a few day’s travel, but Ivara probably covered more ground in two days than she could have in a week’s time.

The huntress collapsed on her rear and leaned carefully against the hard, gnarled surface. Long ago she abandoned staying in Prowl and simply traveled as she normally would. This far out she wouldn’t encounter any Grineer and it was better to conserve her energy reserves for other situations. When was the last time she exhausted herself to the point of losing concentration? Perhaps in her earlier days when she was keen on learning the ways of the hunt.

Ivara’s shoulder stung at the painful reminder of missing a hold while scaling a cliff side. Times like those she wished the damned woman couldn’t fly. Thankfully she didn’t fall to her demise, but being thrown back into a jagged surface wasn’t a pleasant experience, especially when the sharp edge cut deep enough in her skin to cause some worry.

A familiar buzz filled her ears and she glanced about herself. Glowing eyes scanned the surroundings when she noted a solitary razorwing flying aimlessly in the air. She pulled her lower lip in a quiet whistle, high pitched enough to the frequency she knew the creatures would recognize. Immediately the razorwing changed its path and it zipped around her excitedly like a kubrow seeing its owner after days away.

The thought warmed her heart.

“Heya,” she whispered, letting the razorwing land on her outstretched hand. She knew this one, Kalani, and it fluttered its wings in response. “You hungry?”

She gestured to the tied up, dead condroc and it landed on its body. Kalani didn’t seem terribly interested as it came back up and landed on her arm instead. “Know where your owner is?” It flew back into the air, flying off in one direction and hovered as if to wait for her to follow along. Seemed her small break was already at its end. Ivara grunted and lifted the condroc back over her good shoulder and trudged along. The trees grew thicker here, enough to block out the sunlight completely and she found herself relying on the myriad of plants around herself to guide the way. Mushrooms she’d never seen before sprung up at the base of the trees and the flowers glowed like fireflies. The razorwing disappeared through a narrow crevice in the rocks nearby, and the huntress followed it through.

Cool air enveloped her. It was a tight fit, one she could barely make sideways. It forced her to carry her meager gear and bounty in her hands. The passage wall to her back scrapped at the wound and she hissed quietly – it was undoubtedly infected thanks to her negligence, but it remained low on her current priority list. Slowly but surely the path widened and Ivara could walk normally. They came to a large, wide cavern, vines above weaved together tightly enough to form the protective alcove yet loose enough to let the last rays of the day filter through. She watched Kelani fly off to the solitary figure in the middle of the spring at the other end of the room. The space itself was gorgeous beyond words – wildly vivid colors from bright blues to shining teals emanated from the surface of plants she never saw before. Water trickled in from an unknown source and echoed in the cavern with soft splashing. Even the spring itself seemed to glow with unbridled magic.

Still, this paled in comparison to the beauty at the center of it all.

The huntress’ breath caught when Titania glanced in her direction. She was as bare as her first day in this world and thankfully remained mostly submerged. Ivara kept her eyes averted, dropping her cargo close to the water line, but not enough for the blood to stain crystal clear water.

“Kelani told me you brought a gift for my razorwings?” She took a seat on a nearby rock, setting her extra gear down before beginning the process of unstrapping whatever weapons weren’t still attached. She figured this was Titania’s intended destination.

“Wasn’t sure if they preferred bird or rats. I figured it wouldn’t matter either way. Sorry if it isn’t fresh, I killed it yesterday.” Ivara watched as Titania’s weapons buzzed over the kill excitedly, tearing into its flesh like a hungry pack of wolves.

“You even took the feathers off.” Her voice sounded closer, echoing like an ethereal presence.

The huntress shrugged. “Standard practice.” She winced and let out a quiet, pained groan when she twisted her arm to get her hood off. The wound had gone from a dull ache to full-blown pain no matter how much she tried to avoid overdoing it. Any other injury she could take care of in an instant but the ones on her back always suffered the worst of care unless Trinity was around. The sound of water swishing and soft footsteps kept her gaze courteous, but a gentle hand brought her to look Titania dead in her eyes. “…..you’re hurt.”

She fought off the urge to roll her eyes, instead remaining mostly indifferent or as much as her pain would let her. “It’s a small wound.”

“Lies.” The accusatory hiss sent a fresh wave of guilt through her stomach. She didn’t stop the hand going up to her forehead and the frown on the other woman’s face deepened. “You’re feverish. Let me see it.”

“I’ll be fine.” She jerked her arm away from Titania’s hand, only to instantly regret it in the next moment. She refused to make a sound, the muscles in her neck tightening to keep her voice under control. Pride was her strength and her pitfall. Ivara found herself staring up at the woman who began hovering a few inches off the ground. From this angle, she really did look like a proper, regal queen of the forests, with the way her razorwings perched on her arms like a crown inlaid with gems.

“Ivara, I’m not asking. I need to see it.”

Ivara scowled, blue eyes glazed over but still determined and fierce as ever. Could she, for one second, stop being such a stubborn woman? “I said I’m fine.”

The air hummed with magic and she had the sensibility to flinch when a perfectly manicured hand cupped her chin a little more fiercely than she anticipated. A bolt of heat rushed to her core but it dimmed when her back pulsed and throbbed - she couldn’t ignore it anymore. “Ivara.”

The huntress was a woman who prided herself on being the mistress in the shadows. But when the forest guardian commanded her so, she felt her willpower crumble as easily as Gara shattering her Mass Vitrify. She stood defiantly for a few seconds more before shoulders sagged and she broke eye contact with Titania. “Be careful.” Her voice finally cracked – weak, husked, exhausted. Everything she didn’t embody normally all in two words.

Dexterous hands wasted no time in gently prying her hoodie off but her shirt needed to be cut open to bare her back. Titania hadn’t been kind to her precious article of clothing when the sounds of fabric filled the air - damn it, she went through a lot of trouble to get that. It was a special shirt she had embroidered with the conservation emblem from The Business on Fortuna. The crisp air kissed her skin but did little to soothe the blistering pain. “It’s – what hit you?”

The questions, all the Hunhow-damned questions. “I slipped.”

Titania came around and gave her a skeptical look. Ivara stared at her blankly. “I’m as serious as you looking for your flower. I miscalculated a hold.” Was it just her or did the air feel warmer now?

“You are a skilled and cautious woman, Ivara. Mistakes are not in your arsenal. What would cause you to lose your focus?” Her stomach turned uncomfortably as a lump settled in her throat. Admitting her feelings equated to giving into the enemy, something Ivara swore to never do as long as she lived. But the thought of upsetting Titania had settled on her mind so heavily it affected her better judgement and resulted in the convoluted mess she put herself in. And it only happened when said pixie was involved.

“Huntress, answer me.”

I can’t. Not directly at least.

“You are being ridiculous. Fine, we’ll play your guessing game.” How ironic. “Was there an Eidolon?”

“No, you and I both know I am capable of handling it without breaking a sweat.”

“Did you forget something back at the ship?”

“I wouldn’t be here so quickly.”

“Had a patrol wandered in the area and ambushed you?”

Her head spun. When did standing become so difficult? “I Prowled my way through here. And you of all people would know if there are intruders”

“Ivara. Enough of this. Tell me what happened.”  Said woman was tired of this – tired of the endless questions and accusations like she committed a heinous crime. She hated standing there being indirectly chastised like a child for a ridiculous thing as a scratch. She finally snapped, and the fury resulting after spoke volumes of her conditions.

“I felt worse than a pile of kubrow shit for making you upset, alright?!”

The cavern fell silent, as if shocked by the very notion that Ivara, a tough but soft-voiced woman, was capable of commanding roaring armies in a single line. Titania retracted her hand from the huntress, fearful any more contact could provoke a worse response. “It’s been eating at me all Orokin-damned day and I’m tired of it. That’s why I brought the condroc, because I wanted to make amends. That’s why my shoulder is busted, because I’m so sick to my stomach I can’t think.” Ivara hated doing this. She hated every time she exposed herself to the pixie that it made her irrational and feel out of her own skin. It just wasn’t her.

Ivara leaned forward on her knees, breaking out in a cold sweat as she finally succumbed to her ailments. She’d never felt so drained in her life and wanted nothing more than her bed aboard the Orbiter. Even the Liset sounded more welcoming than here.

“….huntress.” Ivara didn’t budge when Titania called for her and tugged at her arm. “Ivara, please.”

She shook her head and attempted to shut out the headache pounding in her head. “Leave me alone for crying out loud, its cold.”

“Don’t go anywhere.” Not like she had anywhere to go to begin with.

Titania zipped through the tree line, tapping into her connection with nature to seek out the herbs she needed. Ivara needed. She’d been upset with the huntress, yes, but due to her stubbornly pragmatic ways. When the pixie took off, she figured Ivara was capable enough to track her down and keep up but after two days and just now seeing her, it never struck her something went gone wrong. Her razorwings spread out in a fan when they approached an area she knew intimately when Oberon came to her with injured beasts.

She didn’t even know if it would work for the woman she left back at the cavern…

The forest guardian struggled to carry Ivara over to one of the large mushrooms instead of laying her on the bumpy ground. She fell unconscious shaking and sweating as the fever completely overtook her. Titania never saw Ivara visit the medical ward for flu medication, or even show signs of illness in the time she knew her. She became a pillar of sorts for the pixie, putting up with her silliness and whims, indulged in her temptations and desires, but never once let herself fall into poor health.

Her mind broke when she heard soft whimpers slipping from Ivara’s lips. Each one stabbed her in the stomach far worse than Ash’s Bladestorm, twisting her gut until she refused to sit by and watch her break the fever on her own.

She was sick, terribly sick and still tried to be strong. Even now the huntress remained curled up as small as possible as if to keep herself from being an inconvenience to Titania. What did she do to deserve such devotion?

“Thank you….” Titania whispered her gratitude – would have shouted and jumped for joy if not for the lump lodged in her throat – and collected the precious medicines in her hands when the razorwings brought them over. She gathered in her arms a myriad of plants, fruits, and herbs all of which with no actual names but she knew their properties for conditions similar to Ivara’s situation. The flight back to the cavern felt like an eternity, but within minutes of returning had a salve ground and prepared. The huntress was deathly pale with clammy skin; the wound needed to be cleaned.

Using the upturned side of a modest sized mushroom cap, the pixie scooped up some of the water from the spring and carved out a bit of nearby moss to bring to the archer’s side. Ivara was half-conscious, watching Titania move around with glazed eyes and tried to sit up when she approached. Titania pressed her hand firmly on the small of her back and forced her back down on her front. “Rest.”

Like a loyal servant obeying their queen, she stilled and closed her eyes. Seeing Ivara so compliant and submissive made her stomach churn.

“This is going to hurt huntress.” Titania soaked the moss to wipe the wound clean, trying to be as careful and quickly as possible when Ivara seized up. It was worse, far worse than she led on and yet remained silent through the entire ordeal. When every trace of dried blood, and anything that looked remotely close to bringing further infection, disappeared, she applied a generous amount of the multicolored paste over her back and massaged the area around the wound to encourage absorption and healing. She picked the cleanest moss to serve as a makeshift bandage, applying them before finally letting Ivara be.

She still looked worse for the wear, but better than an hour ago. A little bit of color returned to her cheeks and her eyes looked less hazy than before. The forest guardian pulled a weak smile when Ivara reached out. Titania held the huntress’ hand in her own, bringing them up to place feather light kisses to each knuckle. Her voice was hoarse, wrought with sleep thanks to the salve. “Thank you Titania…”

"Sleep, Ivara. Sleep." Titania combed her fingers through silver locks, coaxing her huntress into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness. While it was strange for her to care for another person, it came to easy and naturally with Ivara like she had done it all her life. She wanted to share her joyous discovery, to surprise Ivara and point out the trip was worth the trouble getting here. But when her eyes alighted on the woman next to her, a rueful smile crossed her features. It felt far less significant when her favorite person laid by her side completely incapacitated. Even worse so when she realized she had been the source of the huntress’ injuries and tumultuous thoughts.

She really does love me… even if she, and I, are blind to it. For once in her life, Titania regretted letting her emotions flow so freely. Had it not, Ivara wouldn’t be here suffering so much.

Dim eyes fluttered open. The first thing to come into focus was Titania’s troubled expression – eyes squeezed shut and breath light. The next were their hands brushed together. No matter how hard she tried to piece her memories together, everything remained a heavy fog and rather than fight it, she let herself rest against….whatever it was underneath her. All she remembered was arriving in some kind of cavern and her back in pain –

Ivara took a deep breath slowly, surprised by the lack of pain across her back. She flexed her shoulders carefully only to find nothing out of the norm and took advantage of a moment to sit up. They were on some kind of broad plant with ferns serving as makeshift bedding. She reached back and carefully touched her wound covered in some kind of soft, squishy material. Had Titania taken care of her? The telltale wispy, white light dancing across the floor said night, so how long was she out?

The figure at her side stirred, shifting in her sleep and murmuring in discomfort. Instinct prompted her to take one of the pixie’s hands and rub soothing circles on the back of it – a habit she picked up whenever Titania found herself in Ivara’s quarters and stealing her bed for sleep. Something about it being softer than her own, though the huntress knew it was because it belonged to her.

“Ivara?” Blue orbs fluttered open, confusion written across her face. “Ivara…!” This time more ecstatic when it finally sunk in. Ivara nearly fell off their perch when Titania threw herself at the archer, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders and face buried in her neck. “You’re awake. Thank the Lotus.”

“…..how long was I asleep?”

“A couple of days. Your fever finally broke hours ago.” Titania sat back on her knees and heels, but lingered close. Ivara wanted nothing more than to kiss and wipe clean the flash of guilt across delicate features. “I’m…… I was worried.”

“You have every right to blame me. Had I not been so careless, you wouldn’t have to go out of your way to take care of me.”

Ivara met Titania’s gaze with remorse, but Titania spoke up before she could. “It’s not your fault. We both made mistakes. I would never blame you, and…” She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking away shyly.

“-you know I won’t as well.” ‘Sorry’ didn’t fit in either of their vocabularies. Forgiveness was something Ivara rarely gave except to the few she felt deserved it, and the indirect admission of such was enough to make Titania’s stomach flip-flop and fill with butterflies more excited than her razorwings. She beamed, bright enough to pull a small, although resigned, smile from the huntress. “I took some time to fly back to where the Liset is and radioed back to command. Commander Arans-Oxford wasn’t pleased, but she said to take however much time necessary for you to make a full recovery before we return. She also wants a full physical to be sure you’re well.”

Ivara flexed her muscles and twisted and turned to test her body. It took all of Titania’s willpower not to stare shamelessly especially since the woman had just recovered from a potential, life-threatening injury. “I feel fine.”

“I used a small variety of plants with basic chemical properties to stop bleeding, encourage healing, break fevers, and numb pain. I’ve had to reapply it every few hours to ensure max efficacy.” She leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Ivara’s lips before she could open her mouth and protest. “No, you were not a burden. I wanted to be extra careful. I prefer my favorite person well and whole.” When the huntress’ cheeks colored and she didn’t protest, Titania fought off the urge to steal another kiss.

“It’s weird.” The forest guardian blinked in confusion. “I mean, being taken care of. I’m… not used to it.”

“Is it a bad thing?”

Ivara shook her head. “No, not at all.” Cyan eyes looked away, hand running through her hair. “I don’t mind it if it’s you. Trin’s okay, but she’s all business. With you, I feel like it means a lot more.”

Titania raised an eyebrow at the huntress. Why wouldn’t it be? “For now, just simply relax and let the medicine work its magic.”

Ivara watched as a svelte form jackknifed through the water gracefully. It turned out Titania’s affinity for flying translated well to swimming, a trait she envied deeply. The following days they spent making sure her wound healed properly and in turn it forced her to lay on her stomach so she wouldn’t aggravate it. The pixie refused to leave her side except to hunt down sustenance, most of which comprised of fruits to supplement whatever provisions the huntress originally brought. Despite the rough start the entire affair did feel more vacation-like than she expected. The quiet splashing allowed Ivara to doze off for a few moments until the sound of Titania’s footsteps caught her ears. “I’ve never seen you so at ease, huntress.”

The white-haired woman maintained a carefully neutral expression when she peeled open her eyes. “I have nothing else to do but lay here.” She almost missed the mischievous glint in her companion’s eyes.

“I can think of a few other possibilities…” Ivara swallowed thickly at the sultry tone, her body heating pliantly to her voice. The only one who was capable of tempting her.

“Titania, no.” Damn the shaky hesitation in her voice! Ivara’s breath caught when the woman loomed closer still and cupped her cheeks, lips parted tantalizingly enough to make her want to sample a taste. She knew exactly where this would go if she caved in and debated whether or not it would be worth possibly reopening her wound. “Didn’t you say yourself I needed to rest?”

Titania completely ignored her when soft lips grazed her own, the sweetness coating them prompting Ivara’s tongue to dart out and swipe a quick taste. She suspected the extra affection and ‘pampering’ had been to coax her into a more reasonable mindset, which worked unfortunately. Titania knew how to have her way, and the huntress obliged more often than not. “You won’t need to move…much.”

Given their current height differences, Ivara hardly had to move an inch when the pixie closed the gap and meshed their lips together. She was sweeter than a ripe fruit and more fragrant than a flower in full bloom. Every time she surprised the huntress with a kiss, it left Ivara’s nerves tingling and fingers itching to hold her in place. Most times her desires warred with her morality. Titania reassured her that her and Oberon, while protectors of the Earth from hostile forces, were not predestined or slated to be together. She even enlisted Saryn, a fellow warrior against the slew of infested creatures that broke out from Grineer containment on Earth, to convince her there were no romantic interested between herself and the fae king. They were all there to uphold their oath and duties. This time was not one of those self-doubting moments. She wanted the pixie, both in mind and body.

Little did Ivara know, she was Titania’s present and secret weakness. How could she resist such a confident figure? What she lacked in social grace spoke volumes when she hunted, and it made the pixie salivate from the power coiled up neatly in such a convenient form. No one understood her kindness and thoughtfulness, and she – to some extent only Titania could sense – craved the physical and spiritual connection often deprived from people who practiced her craft. Unwittingly, Ivara spoiled her with more attention than she ever asked for, let her do what she wanted without complaining (much), and worried about her well-being more than her own. Titania rarely showed her appreciation of that companionship.

“Lift your hips.”

Ivara felt her cheeks flush and it spread like wildfire across her skin. The command sent little jolts of electricity down her spine in a way she didn’t know before. She wasn’t sure if it was simply the magic in the air, the unknown herbal medicine in her bloodstream, or simply the husk in the pixie’s voice that compelled her so. She pulled her legs close underneath herself when Titania disappeared from her sight. Deceptively dainty fingers dug into her hips while silky legs gently nudged her thighs apart and warmth settled between them. With how much privacy they had, the huntress felt comfortable remaining nude and it wasn’t until now she became hyper aware of that fact. It was easier for the pixie to indulge in the sinful succulence that was the white-haired woman. Slender digits traced sensitive flesh at the apex, stroking an already burning flame into a scorching inferno no one else could douse but the woman pervading every inch of her mental space.

Ivara bit her lower lip when Titania dragged a solitary finger down the length of her slit, breath catching in her throat when it circled a swollen clit in painfully slow laps. Her muscles burned with need when another finger slid between wet lips, adding pressure but never pushing past to where she needed it most. She was putty in her hands, content with being her prey and her body responded to the advances with that clear message. Why was she so receptive now of all times? Perhaps all the extra attention and the lack of any threats left her little to do but find somethings else exciting to fill the peace.

"What did you - ah! - do to me?" More pressure built between her thighs the longer her partner denied her relief and she fought off the desire to clasp them shut or else squeeze Titania to death between them. The slim form of her lover pressed against her back - mindful of the injury - and teeth sank into the crook of her neck to draw out a low groan from the huntress. Pain wasn’t something she enjoyed, but Titania knew how to mix it well with the pleasure. "That flower I sought... It's nectar is rumored to be the sweetest, but also a power aphrodisiac. I was curious as to its effects."

Well, it certainly worked because Ivara didn't mind having the queen of the forests lord over her poor body now.

Titania’s head spun from how submissive Ivara became under her touch. It fueled her own desire and she trailed kisses back down to strong thighs, canines scratching smooth skin and earning a soft sigh of approval. “Ivarrra….” The effect was instantaneous – the huntress let out a not-so-quiet whimper at the sensual roll of her name. It was a sound the pixie craved to hear more of, to fill the air with nothing but her pleasure. Her eyes flared with magic, rationality fighting her primal instincts to feast on her prey.

“I want to hear you, huntress.”

Ivara bit her hand when Titania finally slid her finger into velvety depths and shuddered at whatever the pixie muttered in her native tongue (probably curses of some sort). Her impatience won out over her control and she tried to rock back against that hand only to find it stilled completely.

“Do not move.”

Frustratingly so, Ivara complied. She was rewarded with not just one finger, but two stretching her walls out just enough to have moans clawing her throat. She withheld giving the pixie the satisfaction of her vocalization and Titania responded in kind by seeking out the very thing that would make her snap. Every thrust, every kiss, every second that rolled on drove the huntress closer and closer to the edge of a yawning abyss threatening to swallow her entirety with mind-numbing pleasure. Her lover worked her into a messy pile of flesh, bones, and raw lust that left her sweating from head to toe.

Ivara’s mind went pleasantly blank when a third finger was added.

She seized up when they spread apart just enough to make her feel absolutely full.

“Come for me, Ivara…”

A guttural, high-pitched moan ripped her throat apart when Titania added her tongue to the mix, sucking on her clit with the perfect amount of pressure to shatter her world into a brilliance of light and stars.

Titania purred and yowled like a kavat when Ivara’s hand threaded through her hair. Her body ached in a way nothing they did previously could compare and she hummed her approval to the delicious soreness between her thighs. They curled up comfortably in their small nest and as much as she hated it, they dressed to keep themselves warm since the alcove didn’t provide anything in regards to heat retention. Cuddling with the huntress was all that mattered – there was something comforting and reassuring about their bodies intertwined as tightly as the vines above them. “I prefer you like this so much more, Ivara.” The huntress’ chest rumbled with quiet laughter.

That was such a pleasant sound, like the harmonious cacophony of the forests’ creatures in the morning.

“I spoil you far too much.” Titania craned her head up to meet those magical eyes. Ivara quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re actually really pretty up close.” Pink tinted her cheeks and the huntress scowled, looking away nervously.

“Why do you keep saying such things Titania?”

The pixie giggled, wrapping her arms loosely around a slim waist instead of answering the question. She buried her face in the crook of Ivara’s neck and kissed the tanned column of flesh idly. Why was it that now she felt so… attached, possessive, and even in more love with the huntress? Was it an aftereffect of the flower's nectar? Perhaps it was the fact possibly losing the one thing she cherished so much made her all the more appreciative of the time she spent with Ivara.

“Stay with me.” The white-haired woman blinked in confusion, uncertain of what the pixie implied. “I meant it beyond just being my lover. You are more than just that to me, huntress.”

She remained thoughtfully quiet, as Titania waited with bated breath. “Are you-“

“I am.”

A longer stretch of silence followed. The pixie propped herself up on her elbows on either side of Ivara. She hovered just above her lips and steeled her gaze. “It is not a light proposition, nor can I guarantee your safety but I feel more ill without you by my side. Would you still consider it…?”

Conflict flashed through her eyes, Titania could see it and she felt selfish for asking so suddenly. But she needed to know and wouldn’t be satisfied until she had her answer, even if she had to wrench it from her in the most painful way possible. Ivara was independent, self-reliant, and a terrifying force to be reckoned with. When it came to stealth, Loki held the title of being the fastest while Ash sought his targets with swift, pinpoint accuracy. But the huntress had droves of patience and could spend any amount of time behind enemy lines without being detected once. She moved seamlessly through the ranks of troops and stole precious data from right under the noses, or put them to sleep before cleanly disposing them in a more permanent fashion without leaving behind a trace.

Titania couldn’t see anyone else being a more perfect fit for herself.

Finally, she replied quite simply. “I already come to Earth quite often. It would only be fitting.” The pixie’s heart soared. “As long as Oberon and Saryn permit it.”

She waved it off, kissing Ivara fully on the lips. Chaste yet still full of affection. “If I am capable of accepting Nekros with Oberon and Nova with Saryn, I’m certain you make the most sense.”

Ivara almost knocked her out bolting upright. “Wait, Nekros? And Nova?”

“Does it surprise you that much?”

The huntress gave her a deadpan look. “Yes, it does actually. I may have suspected Nekros, but Nova…”

Titania simply smiled and shrugged. “You understand where I come from then.”

Saryn was their neuro-toxin specialist, a haughty and confident woman with a tough exterior to stand up to. Nova was a molecular expert - she could manipulate their enemies with a tuning fork if she wanted but she was graceful, quiet and shy. Curiosity baited her into how the pair even worked together, but Titania's presence at her side kept them for another rainy day. Perhaps this wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

When she took one step onto the ramp leading back up into the Liset, a loud explosion caught her attention from behind. She recognized that noise belonging to Grineer troop ships deploying their cargo and she glanced up into the cockpit of the ship. No doubt Titania heard it as well and she came down to meet her. “I’ll check.”

“No.” The firmness in Ivara’s voice stopped her dead cold. The huntress drew a single arrow from the quiver at her hip, infusing it with magic and notching it expertly. She drew it back, aimed high in the sky before firing and letting her mind go with the arrow. Once she had control, she kept it on a steady flight above the canopy. She passed several smaller ships and a Bulkor, frowning when the arrow embedded itself in the hull of one of them and the impact sent her reeling back into her mind. Normally she would just let go, but the potential number of soldiers they carried had her a bit stunned. Why were they in this part of the forests? This was far from any permanent post or encampment unless –

“They know,” Titania hissed lowly as the surroundings resonated with her ire. Ivara suspected she did a little recon of her own, and somehow the both of them hadn’t gone entirely undetected. She placed a hand on her shoulder, lips pulled in a thin line. Parts of her started vanishing into transparency. Titania bared her fangs, magic coiling in her hands. She was about to show them why she was known as the guardian of the forests, and why size didn’t matter. “We hunt?”

Ivara nodded once before disappearing into Prowl. “Of course, my Queen.” The little term of endearment made Titania’s heart flutter.

“We hunt.”

[theshatteredrose]

A Meaningful Conversation - Etrian Odyssey 4 Fanfiction

Summary: Logre needed to speak with Jeroden. But he didn't think a head-butt from his prince would be the push he needed...

Pairings: Hints of Jeroden/Logre :3

AN: Just another oneshot of Logre finally getting to the point where he'll let himself be happy, but he just needs one little push :3c Now, hope you enjoy reading~!

Ao3 | Wattpad | FFNet

~*~*~*~*~*~

How did one let oneself be happy? How could it been done, when one's life had been in the servitude of others? How did one get passed the guilt, the uncertainty, to allow oneself to actually...just be happy?

Those were the questions that Logre were troubled by.

He wanted to try his hand at moving on, moving forward. He truly did. He just didn't know how. That was why he was so troubled. He also felt guilty about being troubled, though.

Only a day had passed since Jeroden, his friend and companion from his days as a dutiful soldier of the empire, virtually returned from the dead. In a rather dramatic fashion. Saving him from three obviously up to no good hoodlums that tried to capture him for who knows what reasons.

And Logre had been holed up in this room, on the second floor at the Researchers' clinic, lost to his own thoughts. It wasn't as if he wasn't relieved that Jeroden was back. That he was alive. He was. He was incredibly relieved. But even after his talk with Nitish, even after he helped him sort through his own feelings and emotions, Logre still felt overwhelmed by everything.

He was reassured that it was natural. Especially for someone like him. A highly trained soldier. Someone who had been taught since he could walk to put the empire first. Suddenly having the ability to think about himself wasn't going to be easy for him to simply accept.

But his utterance of wanting to move forward was a huge step in the right direction.

Honestly, there were times where Logre felt unworthy of this guild. Not that he would say it aloud, mind. Not that he would try to put some distance between them. Not with this guild. They wouldn't let him. They'd drag him back kicking and screaming if he tried to stay away.

Logre sat down on the edge of the bed in the room and turned to look out the window. Just outside, just below the window stood Jeroden. Free of his armour and in "normal" clothing. He stood with his back to the residence as he spoke to both Achyuta and Xander.

His gaze lingered on Jeroden. His arms folded across his chest, tightening the shirt against his back. The taut muscles in his back prevalent, especially when he laughed at something. Achyuta seemed to be speaking with Jeroden easily, though he could honestly talk to anyone. Xander appeared less forthcoming with his words, but he, too, seemed rather relaxed. It seemed that spending time with Ciaran had indeed been beneficial for him.

Watching the three interact, watching as Jeroden spoke and laughed freely...Logre never thought he would see him again. Let alone standing out in the streets of Tharsis. Speaking with his guildmates. Standing outside of the residence where their guild, and their prince, stayed.

It seemed so surreal.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why Logre felt overwhelmed. He never thought that something like this would happen. Could happen. And now that it had...he was afraid that it could be nothing more than a dream.

He didn't think he could handle it if it was...

The sound of the door to his room abruptly opening pulled Logre from his thoughts and observations. He immediately turned to look, mildly wondering if it was Isiah again, perhaps becoming impatient with his preverbal sulking.

However, he was surprised to see his prince step inside instead. Usually, he was out in the field under the guidance of Varuna and Bryce. But their party had been in town for the last couple of days. And they had been in the city when Logre had found himself in trouble.

"Your Highness?" Logre questioned as he made the motion to stand up.

But Baldur made a dismissive motion with his hand. "No, stay seated. Otherwise I won't be able to do this..."

Logre dutifully sat back down, though his brow did furrow in confusion. Which only grew as Bladur continued to approach him, to stand before him. Far closer than he had ever done before. But before Logre could question if his prince was feeling well or if he needed something, Baldur unexpectedly reeled his head back and...

Head-butted him on the forehead.

Logre reeled his own head back from both the impact and the surprise. His hand immediately flew up to press his palm against his forehead. There wasn't exactly any pain at the moment, though it certainly did rattle the cobwebs in his head. No, it was the shock of the entire thing that left him wide eyed and utterly speechless.

Baldur, his prince, the son of his emperor, just head-butted him!

"Listen here, Logre, as your prince I order you to look to the future instead of the past. To think about your own well-being instead of others. And to lead by example. If someone like me can learn to move forward, to let myself be an actually explorer, to willingly go out into the fields with them, then you can to. In fact I damn well order it, do you hear?!"

Logre simply stared at his prince, who in return glared at him.

Before he could manage any kind of response, even if it was just a stutter of acceptance, Baldur huffed somewhat childishly as he spun on his heel and stalked from the room. As he stomped out into the hallway, he shouted another order to someone else. "You! Get in there!"

About a minute later, Jeroden appeared in the doorway. He peered into the room, a truly perplexed expression on his face. Odd. Jeroden had been outside a mere moment ago. Did Prince Baldur's voice carry that well?

"You all right there, Logy?" Jeroden asked as he stepped inside.

"Ah, yeah," Logre replied, still well and truly stunned by what had just occurred. "Just...His Highness head-butted me."

Jeroden barked out a sharp, amused laugh, almost as if it came out purely by accident before he snapped his mouth shut and smiled. "That's a new one. I wonder where he learnt to do that."

Logre would blame Isiah, but he had never seen the medic actually head-butt anyone. So he was going to place the blame on either Bryce or Blayden. Maybe even Varuna. Hell, maybe it was Miach who taught him something like that.

"Isiah is going to get a kick out of it," Logre murmured as he idly rubbed his forehead before he dropped his arm listlessly to the side.

"Your guildmates are very protective of you," Jeroden commented out of the blue with an amused smile. "It's a both good and amusing thing."

He was obliviously insinuating about their response to those men that attacked him. As Logre was allowed to recuperate further in a more comfortable setting, he asked what had happened to those three men that accosted him in that alleyway, and got some rather surprising expressions of confusion and dismissiveness.

"What men? Those men didn't exist. What you talking about?"

They were so...blatant in their lies, though. Their acts of innocence was so fake, it was comical.

They continued to play with the oblivious act, pretending as if they had no idea what he was talking about. As if that never happened. But Logre knew better. He knew better to push for further questions. Obviously his guild had managed to find those responsible. And...well, it would be better if he didn't know what happened after that. That way should he ever be questioned about mysterious disappearances, he could be somewhat sincere in his admissions of not knowing anything.

Though, whatever had indeed happened (or rather "not" happened), Jeroden seemed to be aware of it. Partly, or fully, he certainly knew something. And was thoroughly amused by it.

"His Highness is also protective of you, it seems," Jeroden added. "Just like his father."

A lot of people seemed to be protective of him. If the fact that his guildmates had all decided to hang around at the researchers' clinic, instead heading out into the fields like they had originally planned, was anything to go by.

He...couldn't let them down. They wanted him to at least try his hand at this moving on thing. He had to try. For their sake. As well as his.

"Jeroden, we should just talk for a bit," Logre said.

Thankfully, Jeroden nodded his head. "Yeah, that would be wise," he said as he moved and sat down next to Logre on the bed. He chose to sit close to him. Not touching, mind, but still very close.

This...should be interesting. How well two emotionally stunted soldiers would be able to talk, though, was anyone's guess.

Now, how to start their conversation?

Thankfully, yet again, Jeroden was the first to speak. "I know my reappearance was startling to you," he said as he turned to face him, his knee brushing against his. "And I apologise for that. I just wanted to see you again."

"No, I know," Logre immediately replied as he turned slightly to face Jeroden in return. "I am relieved that you're here. Gods, I know it doesn't seem that way, but I am."

Turning to face Jeroden made it impossible for Logre to look anywhere but his eyes. But he did see, and did relief upon seeing, a smile spread across Jeroden's lips.

"I know," he said. "My return could have gone better. But I've always been a bit outlandish, hm?"

Logre had to smile at that himself. "Yes. You never did things by half, did you?"

Though coming out of the shadows to punch out the man attacking him and then sweeping him into his arms in order to take his to safety, was definitely something Jeroden would do. He hadn't done anything quite like it in the past, but he always playfully stated that he would.

"I'm a loudmouth, true," Jeroden continued, his smile taking on a hint of that cheekiness Logre remembered when they were both fledging soldiers. "But I've never said anything I didn't mean."

He suddenly placed his hand atop of Logre's that rested on the bed between them. And Logre felt his pulse quicken. He was alluding to his vow...

"I meant every word of that," Jeroden said with sincerity as he leaned his head forward, toward him to ensure that Logre was to look into his eyes, to not only hear his honesty, but to see it as well. "I realise now that I may have gotten a little carried away. But I won't take any of it back. And I'll repeat it as many times as necessary. But if you-"

"I didn't hate it," Logre interrupted him. "It just...surprised me. To think that Emperor Afrodr would request such a thing. And for someone to actually mean it..."

An expression that was a mixture of fondness and exasperation appeared on Jeroden's face and he shook his head. "You've always been a martyr."

"That's not true," Logre immediately protested.

He wanted to say more, but Jeroden silenced him when he suddenly but tenderly took his chin in his other hand. "Yes, it is."

There...there was that genuine fondness again.

Jeroden leaned forward, toward him a little more. Though slight and subtle was the movement, it made Logre's breath hitch in his throat nevertheless. His face was really quite close to his. It would be easy to...

"Hah," Jeroden suddenly sighed and pulled away from him as he removed his hand from his chin.

Logre was honestly surprised at how disappointed he felt when Jeroden pulled away. And how cold he suddenly felt when he pulled his hand back as well. Thankfully, much to his relief, his other hand stayed atop of his against the bed.

"You've got yourself quite the guild," Jeroden said, his comments somewhat out of the blue. "To think that Achyuta and Xander would be here, also. And that Achyuta had a twin. Bit of an asshole, though, but I like him. It's going to be a riot riling him up."

Despite the disappointment he felt earlier, a chuckled slipped passed Logre's lips and he nodded his head. "He's a strange on, even for an imperial, but he has his reasons for being so."

"Do you enjoy being around them?"

That question was really quite out of the blue and Logre felt his brow furrow slightly in confusion. "Of course I do."

"Is it ok for me to get to know them, too?"

Oh...

"Well, if you..." Logre paused for a moment in an attempt to find the right words. "If you want to fulfil your vow to me, you really should try to get along with my guild."

Jeroden's expression brightened, though he also appeared as if he had expected that answer. "Ah, more than reasonable."

"Yeah," Logre said before he smiled as he turned to look away from Jeroden. However, he leaned toward him nonetheless, his shoulder pressing against his. "Besides, I want you to. You say I'm the martyr here, but you deserve happiness, too."

"So, let us both have a go at this happiness thing," Jeroden continued as his hand pressed a little more firmly against his, his fingers, coarse from a driveblade yet still somehow tender, curled around his hand. "The two of us. We've got a lot to learn."

Logre curled his fingers against Jeroden's and his smile became easier to hold. "Yeah. We do."

Maybe he could, they could get used to this happiness thing after all. If the two of them stick together, they'll surely work it out. 

But there was another question that had been bothering him, too. One that made him feel a sharp spike of guilt in his chest...

What about Kirjonen?

[staceyhcsrek17]

Thinking Over You

This is my message in a bottle - hoping the oceanic universe that crossed our paths will bring this to you.  I’m too scared to tell you myself but I’m almost more scared of you never knowing what I was thinking the whole time.  

It was a night in October that brought me here.  I feel for as much as I think about it and consciously slip it into casual conversation that I should remember the exact day but I don’t.  If I go back and look in the calendar I could probably figure out the exact date but is it really that important? It was a Saturday night in October.  The night was almost unseasonably warm but not in an Indian summer type of way; in that way October has become in Pennsylvania - chilly and dewy in the morning and by the afternoon the sun has evaporated all the fog and mist into a hot sweat tickling under your sweater. I can’t remember if the leaves were changing or if it had been cool that morning.  I just know it was a night early in October and it was a little warmer than usual and I was feeling unusually restless.  I guess it was not that unusual for a twenty-three old, just a couple months fresh from college, a newly minted nurse with some money in my pocket for the first time.  Nonetheless, I was itching to get out of my apartment and forget the gnashing feeling against my ribs that while I was making sure other people’s family members avoided the grave until at least 7:15, I myself wanted to die - at work at least.  I think my friends, also nurses, felt similarly, but I don’t know if it was to the same degree that I did.  

It was a Saturday night in October and I needed a drink.  And to dance.  I was debating even going out though; something about my makeup maybe?  Having nothing to wear?  Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.

“Come over.  We have a friend staying over that I think you’ll really like ;).”

“Lol, probably.”

I guess I was going out; my hair and makeup be damned, it was already getting late.  I touched up my face makeup, maybe added some eyeliner.  Did it really matter to you?  Did you even notice?  I combed my fingers through my hair, which was locks of dark brown that almost fell to my waist a week ago, that I had chopped so short that I couldn’t even put it in a ponytail.  I guess I just straightened it not knowing what to do with this new version of my hair - this new version of me.  I chose a shirt that was somewhat low-cut, showing off my barely-there fabricated cleavage and a pair of denim shorts that were a little too short and tight for my chubby butt cheeks; perfect for a night at one of Bethlehem’s South Side dive bars.  

I remember that I ubered there, knowing that I would imbibe far past the physical and legal capacities to drive home.  I waited outside the the door hidden into the shops of Main Street, observing the trickling remnants of people finishing up their late dinners or night caps.  The stairs to the apartment were narrow and dimly lit with a bits of dust settling into the wood of the building.  I don’t remember how I felt before I walked into the door right before I met you.  Did I feel indifferent?  Was I nervous knowing that I was going to meet someone new?  I know I had been feeling that I couldn’t believe in love anymore; it was pointless because even if it was so good - it would eventually come to an end.  I had felt so good and then everything I thought I had crumbled into a million irreparable pieces that I had tried and tried to haphazardly put back together but they never fit quite the same again - and always ended up falling and shattering on the floor every time.  You didn’t know that though.  You didn’t know anything about me.  I was just the girl that walked into your friend’s apartment in the short denim shorts and a black shirt.

……….

“I don’t mind being woken up at two in the morning if it meant you were able to fall in love again.”  I remember my roommate telling me this the day after were first met.  We apparently kept her up while we were talking and laughing in the living room after were came home from the bar.  I can’t fully recollect that night in details; we were both incredibly drunk.  I remember showing you my herb garden.  I know that at first I didn’t want to like you.  I asked you what you did and you told me that you were a cop.  I thought that meant you were just like him.  I thought that it meant that you couldn’t be fun or sexy and our lines of thinking would never intersect.  I don’t know what flip switched in my brain or my heart to give you a chance, to open myself up to a possibility of you just a little bit.  It was like a dam that was built up and you pulled out just the right part of it for the whole thing to break apart and be swept into the river.  

Perhaps it was the true definition of a cosmic joke, the universe executing its most well-played trick on me.  He was a cop who was a little too serious, a little too insecure, and a little too boring for me.  Ironically, the first fight between him and me happened because I had asked about an open relationship.  You did things that he would never do, even though you are a cop, which was always his excuse for the way he chose to be.  You got drunk in a strange city, you made out with me in a bar with all of our friends watching, and you have a girlfriend back at home.  The last part of that is so casual, isn’t it?  So strange for everyone else but so normal for you and what I’m seeing as normal as well.  Still, you talk about her to me, and I don’t know if you can tell sometimes that I don’t know what to say; it’s like breaking down the metaphorical fourth wall but in real life.  Maybe I don’t like being reminded that even if I’m in love with you, it’s a kind of love that I’m unfamiliar with; it’s a kind of love knowing that there’s a huge possibility that it will never be reciprocated but choosing to let yourself feel it anyway.  It’s seeing all the tarot cards laid out in front of you and knowing what they mean, but you shuffle them again just for that one spread that tells you that even if that chance is small, it’s still there.  

The whole thing doesn’t sound very romantic.  It most likely isn’t.  Our first kiss was at a bar that I used to (still) go to for dollar drinks and throw up in their tiny, humid bathrooms.  I don’t remember this detail exactly, but I had drank a lot of rum and Coke that night, so that’s what I must have tasted like to you when you kissed me.  I do remember how you pulled me in with my chin cradled between your thumb and index finger, so gentle but  commanding in the same way.  You held my face and kissed me in a way that I don’t remember being kissed before.  And then I couldn’t stop.

……….

Recently, you came here to see your friend and asked if I was free.  You picked me up from my apartment and kissed me in that way that drives me crazy and makes me feel something other than sadness or indifference.  When we were driving in the car to meet up at our friends’ new house, you put your hand on my leg; a subtle gesture that I’m not sure if you noticed or put much thought in to but it made me feel as if I had caught a gasp in my throat.  I think most people would call that “butterflies”.  As we were walking around Main Street, trying to intertwine ourselves amongst the hundreds of people there, I’m sure anyone that would have given us a thoughtless glance would have took us as just another couple there.  There were times where the crowd grew thick with people moving at all different paces and you would put your hand on the small of my back - again, a gesture that made my throat feel like it was closing in on me.  Later, we went back to our friend’s house and we were intermingling within the group at the dining table.  You didn’t have to worry about me and I didn’t have to worry about you; we could carry on separate conversations with different people without being concerned that the other felt left out.  You bought me mac and cheese at one in the morning and I was a little drunk.  I saw you at one point starting to fall asleep on the couch and I, not wanting you to fall asleep before I could enjoy you mind and body, climbed into your lap, looking down over you to see your eyes flutter open and your mouth spread into a contented smile.  I don’t know why, but kissing you that night felt especially good, like my mouth and lips just melded into yours perfectly.  You were whispering dirty nothings into my ear as I kissed your neck, both of us seemingly ignoring the fact that two of our friends were standing in front of us talking about how her fiance had messed up mounting their television.  When we came back to reality, realizing that we weren’t the only ones in the room, we laughed and kept on kissing, trying to see if they’d turn around to acknowledge us.  I would burst into laughter the longer we could go without them noticing us, my arms flung loosely around your neck and my head buried into your shoulder.    

The sex that night was different for us than it had been before; somehow more easy and natural.  It felt like the kind of sex you have with your partner when you come home from a late night with friends; your bodies a little too tired to do anything other than sleep but you both still wanted it so badly even though you had gotten used to each other in the way that couples do.  We didn’t use any type of protection, which made it feel more intimate maybe, since it was something you had absolutely insisted on in the past.  The night had been warm and humid; absolutely miserable.  We washed away all the sweat from the crowd and rolling around in the sheets in the shower.  We laughed and kissed and we talked for a long time just standing in the warm water before we got out.  After we had dried off, we snuck into my dark kitchen where I stole a pint of strawberry ice cream from the freezer and I fed it to you, and then me alternating, in spoonfuls at a time.  I really loved that moment with you and wanted that moment of me feeding you ice cream or pot pie or mac and cheese or whatever and sneaking words and kisses in between all of those things to last for every night of forever.     

……….

Sometimes I think, “you have to know.  You have to know that I’m about to smack my head off the pavement, falling for you.”  It has to be so apparent to you but then I remember that I’ve built these borders around me to keep people like you out of my mind; or maybe I have just perfected my poker face in all of this.  I don’t even know if you have the capacity to feel the same way or how your brain works to compartmentalize the different aspects of your lifestyle or even how I process it myself sometimes.  Regardless and despite how far all of this falls outside of the pre-made stencil of what love is supposed to look like, I choose to love you.  I choose to let myself feel it; let myself just have it, even if it is just for me.  I choose to let that feeling wash over me and ride it until it collapses into nothing and goes back to the sea from which it came.  I hope that that same sea will take this message back to you in the little glass bottle that I’ve sealed it up in.  I still have to ask, how could you not know?  This message is sitting right next to you in the bed you’re sleeping in.