#i cannot wait for in 5 years when its more widely recognized that this is just straight up bigotry bc i Know thats gonna happen

[cleverpaws]

sorry i will literally never understand how anti endos will be like "no guys THIS time the bigotry is Good And Ordained By The Universe Itself" or whatever and then you look at what theyre saying and its just everything people said to asexual people in the 2010s on here repackaged as bullying endo systems instead

[hellfire--cult]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {Dark}

Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run {Steddie x Reader}

WC: 13.1 k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, chasing kink, mentions of bones breaking, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, knife play, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession.

Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, the head of The Black Dragons decides to finally join the trial, and claim what is rightfully his. No matter who he has to take down for it.

Author's note: Well shit, I just... wanted to write something out of my comfort zone, and well... this happened. If I missed any warnings please say so, but I hope you enjoy this, and if you don't like any of the warnings above, please, don't read. There isn't any gore at all, js. Also, I didn't proofread this. Please SEE THIS ART of how Eddie ACTUALLY looks in this story. Can't thank Corpse enough for it!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY

The rules are simple:

1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.

2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.

3- No water and no food will be provided.

4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.

5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.

6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.

He looked all around him in the big wide center of the room, a ball room. There was a big buffet, serving various kinds of foods to fill a whole army, as well as drinks, non alcoholic, were being served around. He scanned all around him, looking at the various masks everyone wore.

A wolf.

A fox.

A blank face.

A goat.

A clown.

There were many varieties, many kinds but mostly were in animal masks. Coming to this kind of event was not something he ever thought of doing, at least not by his own accord. But here he was, in a demon mask, a black skull that covered half of his face, with its black horns going up. He stood out, definitely stood out, and he noticed by all the faces turning towards him. 

He was recognizable, his dark hair tied in a bun, his lips under the top sharp teeth of the skull mask, his eyes showing in the holes of the eye sockets, and then, unlike anyone else in the room, he was only wearing a blazer over his torso, leaving his skin exposed. People looked at him as if he were insane for doing this stunt, others thought he was cocky for trying to think he had a chance dressed like that, but others were simply scared of him.

Tonight, his name was Demon.

He glanced around once more to see the many different people he clearly recognized. Sons of rich families, looking for some fun, for some sense of victory that they can just get with daddy’s money. He also recognized the rings of various people that were only hired to enter this competition and win the prize for their boss. And then, there was him. The only Mafia Boss entering the competition, and that’s why everyone was looking at him.

Mafia bosses don’t often do the dirty work unless it’s a very important client, business or victim. In this case, there was a treasure he wanted, something he had been intrigued by ever since it was mentioned to him, and all he had to do was step over everyone else that was standing in this room with him. 

There might be forty people, all waiting for the presentation to finally start. He knew the time to go out was coming close, so they should do it any time soon. A man stood next to him, and he immediately recognized his voice. Carver Jr. Son of the CEO of Kirasoft. Inc. 

“I am telling you, this year she is getting caught, man.” He hears him say to the other guy next to him, who he didn’t recognize, but probably from the same rich kind of family.

“Can’t believe it’s been the same White Rabbit for three years… How did she manage to do it?”

The lights dimmed and he looked up at the ceiling, knowing there was a specific light that was above him, making him visible even in the dim room. He smirked and looked back down towards the stairs that lead down to the ballroom. He sees the man, the man who hosts this event, the man who gets the money of every single person that pays to participate. 

“Welcome to the annual Haunting Ground night.” Claps were heard around Demon, but his hands were kept inside his front pockets as he waited for the man to continue his stupid speech. “Every year we host this marvelous game, in which there is a prize to be won, a marvelous prize.”

The snicker in the man’s face made Demon’s blood boil, as his hands fisted in his pockets. The need to murder him, the need to see his flesh gush out as he talked was increasing, each second it passed. He looked around again, seeing all the women, the men, the people with masks, smiling with confidence towards the stage. 

“Hearing the rules for a third time is quite annoying.” Demon hears a woman talk next to him to another contestant. She had a deer mask on, her whole face covered so he didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter, none of the people inside the room mattered, the only one that did was the person in all white that was going to appear at the top of the stairs. 

And no one, absolutely no one, was getting her except him.

“The rules, you all know about them, but I want to remind you about the emergency beeper you all will have in your pocket. If endangered, if in extreme pain, or you just want to tap out of the contest, you press it, and the emergency team will know your location and come get you.” The man says and Demon only rolled his eyes to the sky, knowing he won’t be using it, but actually making other people use it.

The fact that he couldn’t bring any weapons irked him. He always thought things like this would end in blood baths, but they were being pretty humane about this. Yet, he wanted to murder every single person in this room at the moment, because how dare they even try to steal her away from him? Not that he didn’t kill a few past contestants from the past two years. He heard from the men that participated, that some had grabbed the White Rabbit, just by an inch, but a scratch here and there was done to her skin.

Of course he wasn’t going to let them go unharmed for that.

“If you endanger someone to the point of killing them, you will be disqualified and brought to authorities.” Demon scoffed at that. He has the police wrapped around his finger, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, but he will keep his hands to himself, as much as he can, just so he wouldn’t be disqualified from this. 

He could hear the whispers surrounding him, and also knew that they were about him. He was the most dangerous person amongst the people, and if anyone had a gram of brain cells, they would let him get the prize. But of course, he knows many will try to defeat him, try to throw him to the ground, hurt him, because there are also people from families he had destroyed during the years, just like his uncle did in the past. 

Being the nephew of one of the biggest Mafia bosses didn’t mean anything, you weren’t automatically feared or respected just for being a direct link, a family member. You were respected when you were entrusted with the men, the organization and the operations at such a young age, and even more so, when you are not merciful at all, except when needed to. 

Demon never hurt women or children, and the only time he had to kill a woman was because she had backstabbed his uncle, almost to the point of killing him. She was his right hand, but all this time, even if killing for him, she was planning on taking over him, completely over stepping on Demon. He found her taking out her gun when they were in a transaction between crews, and got her in time before she could actually take it out. His uncle fought that she was protecting him, but Demon saw how she was looking at the back of his uncle’s head, right as she got her hand inside her coat. 

She was operating for the other crew they were doing a transaction with.

So of course, Demon immediately took care of it, eliminating her in front of her brother, the other boss that was sitting in front of his uncle, just so that he knows they are not to mess with. And Demon did all that, at the mere age of 17. Now, at 28 years old, he was a man to be feared, respected by many, and to never try to backstab him, in any sort of form or way. 

But three years ago, he got fixated on something, on someone, when he visited the house of the Red Flies, the second most known Mafia family in the eastern states. He knew he was obsessed, he knew that he shouldn’t even try to get her, but he was immediately swept by her presence, by her voice, by her eyes, in a way no one had made him feel before. This only happened when he locked eyes with her, a small smile appearing on her face, and he knew, he immediately knew, that she was meant to be his.

She was going to be his, no matter the cost.

“Everyone, I present to you, the White Rabbit.” 

And there she was, at the top of the staircase, with a spotlight over her head, the white rabbit mask covering half her face, with the ears going up to the ceiling. She was wearing a white short dress that stuck to the body but was loose at the end. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, as everyone was clapping at her, in awe, with desire in their eyes as well as ambition and greediness. 

The reason why everyone wanted the White Rabbit was simple. They were from a high, a very high association, be it a company or a mafia gang, but they wanted out of that. The White Rabbit holds the power of bribery towards bosses, as well as threats and blackmail. More likely daughters and sons that want to destroy their own lineage. 

Many people here knew who the White Rabbit was, but just by name, even if three years had passed. She was never caught, and she never gave herself to anyone because that can also be done. The White Rabbit can willingly choose who to go with if they so desire. And that’s why Demon was with a smile to his face, his jacket still open as he looked at the White Rabbit. She was scanning the room, looking at all the contestants and then, her eyes landed on a torso, her eyes hazing over as she kept staring at his chest.

You see, Demon also possessed that knowledge, and of course, he studied her, knowing more than her name. Over the last three years he had sent his own men to participate in the trial, but with no intention of winning but just to see what the participants did and how she moved in the woods. 

Demon knew her name, how she looked like, the sound of her voice, who her father was, and also, he knows the things she likes, the things she desires, the things that make her tremble, and that’s why he is exposing his torso, and as she kept her eyes on him, a small grin appearing on her face, her tongue licking her bottom lip even slightly as her eyes clouded with pure lust, her mouth watering just at the pure sight of his tattooed chest and even more when he suddenly takes his tongue out, running his tongue piercing all over his top lip.

Stigmatophilia: Sexual Arousal for body modifications, such as piercings or tattoos.

“Always looking like a diamond in the rough.” He heard Carver say, almost a mumble, and Demon’s blood was boiling already. How dare he look at her? How dare he even think he has a chance? How dare he touch or imagine touching something that was his? How fucking dare he even comment on his prize? 

“We all know how this goes. The White Rabbit will have an upper hand of five minutes to infiltrate the woods. Do not, by any means, hurt the White Rabbit. If the White Rabbit is caught, the decision to go with that person for a limited time, or to be completely owned, is up to them.” Demon smirked at those words. There is a contract the White Rabbit has to sign before submitting themselves as the prey. If they decide they want to do a temporary ownership of their body, then the contract is not signed by the captor. But if they do decide for a complete ownership of body and soul, the contract will be signed by both parties, kind of like a marital contract.

This was all in the Mafia organization of course, it’s not legal, but it is something to be respected in between the groups and companies. Demon does not like this idea, because no person should be owned, no person should be held like an animal, no person should be treated like an object. But in the White Rabbit’s eyes, he saw that longing, he saw the need of belonging to someone, of being owned. 

And he was more than happy to oblige.

“Do you think this year is the year? Will she get caught?” He heard the woman next to him, and for the first time in the night, he finally talked, with a gruff voice coming out of his lips.

“She will.”

The people around him all turned with widened eyes, shocked faces behind their masks, as whispers erupted all around them. He was still locking eyes with the White Rabbit, whose smile was still on her lips, almost a snicker, a wicked grin, and he couldn’t wait to start running, he couldn’t wait to start chasing, his body was already trembling at the need of wanting to earn his prize.

“No more food, no more water. The trial starts now… Rabbit… Run.” The host finally said and Demon saw how the light over her head turned off, and in two seconds it lit up again, only for her to be gone. “Get ready and line up to the edge of the woods.”

At his queue everyone started heading out of the ballroom, but Demon just walked, calmly, hands still in his blazer pockets, heading towards the big doors and finally being hit with the wind of the night, the sound of the leaves ruffling all around and the trees merging up in front of him, a sea of trunks and bushes that he will have to run through. 

He stood next to Carver, who was already in a stance of pounce, waiting for the sound of the gun so they could all start running. Demon slowly took off his blazer, throwing it in the ground, revealing his completely tattooed torso, with many ink designs such as dragons, or skulls, or demons, and they go all over his arms and back as well. There are some patches of untouched skin, but overall, he is completely covered in them. 

The many people that stood next to him on each side were looking at him, gulping, except for Carver who simply rolled his eyes at him. Demon looked up at the full moon that was going to help him look through the deep woods, the light that he knew how to follow to keep a steady pace, and the shadows that would help him knock down any person that might come in his way. 

After a minute, he saw the man, the host, walking up on the balcony of the building, his silhouette shining with the moonlight as he raised the flare gun up. Demon took a deep breath in from his nose, getting his hair up in a low ponytail, calmly, as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. His eyes gazed back to the woods, a small grin appearing on his face as he fixed the rings that were on his right hand.

BANG.

His fist immediately collided with Carver’s Jaw, sending him backwards, and the only thing that could be heard was the crack of teeth and a gurgled grunt as he fell to the floor. He quickly turned to grab onto the ponytail of the woman that had screamed at the vicious act, the woman with the deer mask on, pulling her back towards his chest. He wrapped his right hand over the woman’s neck and her hands immediately flew to his forearm, trying to break free.

“Let ME GO!” She yelled with a choke and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes when he raised his left hand up, pressing it at the back of her hand to bend it forward and then with his right arm he started pressing onto the sides of her neck to start cutting her blood flow towards her brain. 

Her body started to go limp and when he felt her arms fall from him, he instantly let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, completely unconscious. He doesn’t hurt women. It will take more time if he does this trick every single time, but even if they try to go after him, he won’t hurt them. Many had already taken off, but some, a very few, stayed to look at what he’s done. 

One by one, they started backing up back into the house as they saw Carver’s mouth going slack as he tried to talk, making Demon turn to throw a wicked grin his way. The blonde man took the beeper out of his pocket and groaned as he pressed the button to finally call assistance. Once Demon heard the beep, he took off running into the woods. 

His blood was pumping with adrenaline, his breathing steady as he rushed by the trees, jumping over boulders, hearing some screams and passing by some men injuring one another. When he arrived at a cleared up area, he stopped running at the sound of some bushes rustling, right next to him, the crack of a twig catching his attention. 

He instantly jumped forward when he saw the bushes finally moving and a man, a bigger man than he is, jumped out of them and onto him, but missed thanks to Demon's premeditated step. The big man steadied himself, wearing a bear mask as he glared at him, a sly smirk on his lips. 

“Well, well, well… Didn’t think the Boss of the Black Dragon would be in a thing like this. Don’t you have many women to choose from?” The Bear chuckled at his words but Demon only grimaced at them. He thinks The White Rabbit can be compared to any woman? To any person? 

“If you want all your limbs in the same place, you would close that mouth of yours.” Demon threatens but Bear only belly laughs at him, shaking his head.

“It’s just you. You know, your uncle really fucked me over with my company.” At those words, Demon could only roll his eyes, not wanting to waste another second in this mindless conversation.

“You probably didn’t pay up in time, or, if I remember correctly, didn’t you kill your wife?” He remembers the deal. This man, and his wife, were going to share half and half of the credit The Black Dragon crew was giving them. The wife asked for a divorce, which would have made the contract void, and the money had to be returned in its entirety to the organization. She had her half untouched, he didn’t. She was going to be free, he wasn’t. 

So in his anger, he killed her, making it seem like suicide to the legal eye, but to the organizations he was seen as a murderer. Now, seeing him in this trial, wanting to get the White Rabbit, Demon felt his blood burning up in anger, because he wasn’t going to let a man like him get her… He wasn’t going to let a man like him get any other woman or person.

“She killed herself. I made that very clear.” The Bear’s face fell, as he clenched his fists next to his hips. Demon knew what was going to happen, so he fixed the bloody rings on his right hand again, his smile spreading knowing it was Carver’s blood. 

“You won’t get her.” Demon says in a dead tone, which the bigger man only chuckled at, unamused, and he took a step forward, and Demon only cracked his neck once. 

“We’ll see about that.” And the first fist was thrown by The Bear, only to be dodged easily by Demon, moving aside. He raised his leg up and immediately hit the bigger man at the right shin with his combat boot. The Bear groaned loudly, turning his whole body to tackle Demon into the ground, his upper body slamming with Demon’s torso, sending him to the floor with the big man on top of him.

He cursed under his breath as the air in his lungs got knocked out slightly thanks to the impact, feeling a sharp sting on his shoulder, making his eyes go wide and groan in pain, looking at the side. The Bear cheated, a small swiss knife now was on Demon’s shoulder, pressed by the man that was on top of him. 

“I see you’re still playing fucking dirty.” Demon almost but snarls at the man on top of him who only laughed out loud and shook his head at the words.

“You don’t get anything in life if you don’t do it my way. My wife knew that, yet, she decided she wanted to fuck me over.” He was laughing, and Demon’s veins were popping out from the anger, from the rage, from the images of this man’s hands over your body, tracing his knife on your skin until he could bury it into the deepest of your gut if you made a wrong move.

His left hand was free to roam, and he grabbed onto a small boulder that was on the floor, immediately clenching his fingers around it to throw his arm up, swinging it towards the man’s head, making him yell in pain as the rock busted his ear and ripped open the skin on his temple. He fell to the side, holding his side of the head in pain while Demon sat up in one quick movement, taking the swiss knife out of his shoulder and throwing it away. Wasting no time, he lunged himself over the other man’s figure.

He was now on top, having won the wrestling match, or the kid fight he just had, and the man below him yelled for mercy, which made Demon only grin wider and wider, knowing that he was a step closer to his prize. In one swift move he pressed his knee against the man’s thigh, while his hand grabbed onto his calf, pulling it upwards, and he just needed one snap, he can at least make it quick for the guy below him.

SNAP. CRACK.

“MY FUCKING LEG!” The Bear yelled below him, only for Demon to scoff at his cries. He stood up and walked off the wailing man who was already taking out his beeper to call for medical care. Demon grabbed onto the beeper, a glare in his eyes as he looked at the man below him.

“After this, you better hide… Because I will kill you.” He threw the beeper far away from The Bear. He would have to crawl with his broken leg to get it, making that task torturous to say the least. 

“P-Please, spare me– This is just a game–” Demon pressed his foot onto the man’s broken leg, and another yell of pain could be heard through the open field. 

“No. You should have noticed that this is not a game to me, and you should have known that messing with me today would be a very bad choice.” He let go of the man, stepping away. The Bear’s face was stained from the tears of pain he was induced to, but Demon could care less. 

The black haired man immediately took off again, running through the bushes as he heard a few screams and yells of victory. His mentality started spiraling as he felt himself growing impatient by how long this was going to take. If he had to take out every single contestant he was going to end up doing a massacre and that was against the rules.

Because he would kill for The White Rabbit.

He was hearing many beeping sounds around him, some grunts and people that were writhing on the ground in pain as he walked by. So many were with broken bones, some had scratches all over their bodies and that’s when he remembered the wound on his shoulder. He looked at it as he walked, moving his shoulder in circles to see if it caused any damage. He scoffed and chuckled as he noticed he could still move his arm freely even if the wound was open. 

The bastard couldn’t even aim a knife right. He didn’t really deserve to live, not if he is going to threaten death right in the face and expect to come out alive from it. That’s what Demon was. Death. Crossing him meant bargaining with life, and backstabbing him with treason meant instant death. He didn’t do most of the dirty work, only when it’s necessary and when he would get pleasure from it, and that man he just fought, he wasn’t going to be killed by a stranger in his organization. Demon was going to cut his head off himself.

He stopped walking when he heard a rustle, but it wasn’t on any of his sides. He turned his body, scanning all over when he heard it again. He smirked as he put his hands in the front of his pockets, his heart beating into his chest from the adrenaline and from the excitement of getting closer and closer to his objective.

“You should come down from the trees.”

A small giggle could be heard from his back as he slowly turned to finally see the person he wanted most climbing down from a tree. Her white dress flowed with some white shorts underneath, but the white was now smudged with some dirt, and some blood as well. Her white ears moved as she tilted her head at him, scanning him all over, her body rocking on the balls of her feet.

“Your ears are very perceptive.” 

 “You’re just too loud.” He says in a low voice, watching the White Rabbit start moving, circling him, with her hands behind her back, swaying her head from side to side as if humming a song. His head followed her, seeing her bare feet covered in mud as the leaves crunched under them. 

“Hmm… Someone got you.” She says, pointing at the wound on his shoulder, in which he simply shrugs as if to show her that he wasn’t fazed by it.

“By playing dirty.” She hummed again as she looked down at the floor, still circling all around him as if inspecting him, scanning him, and her mouth watered at every single patch of skin she saw inked. She was already imagining what his legs looked like, and she was already trembling with the idea of using her nails to give him new scars.

“Are you here to get me?” She asks him, finally stopping right in front of him, just a few feet away, her hands still behind her back with a grin on her face. He took his hands out of his front pockets, letting them hang on his sides.

“To claim you.” She tilted her head at his voice, her smile widening, creepily so, as her eyes glistened with sudden excitement and adrenaline and Demon knew what was coming, because he had studied the White Rabbit after all.

“You’ll have to catch me first.” And she turned on her heel, and sprinted off into the darkness of the woods, and Demon’s teeth showed as his wicked grin grew, and grew.

Autassassinophilia: Sexual arousal when being in a dangerous situation, such as being chased, or wanted for murder.

His feet started working, running forward to where The White Rabbit went, listening to far cries that were deep into the woods, and he wondered just how many other people were left, not that it mattered, because he already won. He knew he already won when he decided to sign up for this trial. He knew he had won the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He knew he had won when she had smiled at him, right at the top of the marbled stairs.

He stopped running when he came into an empty spot, surrounded by trees, looking all around him. His eyes twitched as he tried to listen to the sounds, knowing now that it was just him and her. He was preying on her as much as she was preying on him. He knew she was circling him, his little rabbit, trying to be sneaky, but a twig was heard from his left side and his feet immediately moved to that sound.

Long strides were taken thanks to his long legs, his belt clinking as he ran, going past the trees once again. He ran in between trunks, jumping over the fallen logs, but his eyes sparkled when he heard a giggle from behind him, making him stop in his tracks, turning around rapidly to see her retreating figure, running away from him. A smirk appeared on his lips. She had run past him and he didn’t notice.

He started running after her, deciding to swerve left, going deep into the woods again, no longer following behind her. She kept running, her breathing completely accelerated, her belly turning with anticipation, with adrenaline, with arousal, with desire. Oh, she wanted him. She had waited, and waited. But his footsteps were no longer heard behind her, making the White Rabbit stop, turning around to try to listen to her surroundings.

He wasn’t following her, did she run too fast? Did he lose sight of her? But she was sure she was hearing him behind her, not even five seconds ago. She took one step, then another, passing by a tree but she stopped her movements again, her eyes widening, goosebumps emerging on her skin as she slowly turned her head to see the figure that was just behind the tree, waiting for her.

“Caught you.” 

Demon immediately pounced on her, grabbing onto her shoulders and tackling her to the ground, a crazed smile on his face as she struggled to get free, but it was already done. He was on top of her, his calves over her thighs to pin her down while his hands were on her biceps now, digging deeply, pushing her onto the ground. She was panting heavily as she opened her eyes to finally see the man that was on top of her.

“Dirty.” She spats and he scoffs, licking inside his bottom lip as she relaxes under his hold. A small smile appeared on her lips, the moonlight shining through the woods, just enough for him to see her. He took one hand away from her bicep, getting hold of the bottom of her mask, pulling it up to finally reveal that beautiful face he got mesmerized with three years ago, at a simple meeting. That face that told him, we’re equal. That face that told him, I will serve you if given the chance. That face that he wanted to see, everyday, at every hour, for as long as he lives. That face that claimed him that same night, with a smile, with the stares, with the intense stare in the eyes.

You.

“Hello, Bunny.” That was your nickname in your father’s organization. Bunny. Too pure, too innocent, too charming, yet, you were the complete opposite. You were nasty, you were evil, you were vengeful, you were a freak. A complete and utter freak. And he was the same, he was your exact same, and you were expectant of him. You were waiting for him to appear. You were in this trial behind your father’s back for three years, because you wanted him. You wanted the man that had whispered in your ear ‘You’ll be mine.’ three years ago. You wanted the man that’s been said to have killed and destroyed many organizations and the members inside of them. You wanted the man that you knew could own you, yet, wouldn’t cage you.

Your fingertips from your free hand raised up, finally touching the teeth of the black demon mask he was wearing, first grazing it, gently, as if taking in this moment with him, this moment where everything will change, this moment where your life will finally become yours, and his. You gripped onto the mask and finally lifted it up, and he helped by bending down slightly so you could rip it off his face, throwing the plastic far away from you both.

“Munson.” A smile appeared on your face as you saw him, your cheeks flushing at his sight, as if you were a bitch in heat in front of her master, and you weren’t far from it. You knew Eddie owned you that same night you met him, and he also knew you were meant to be his. 

“What are those?” He asked, placing a hand on your waist where a stain was on your dress, a shiver running down your spine as a soft moan escaped your throat, knowing his hand was covered in ink and touching you.

“I might have snapped a few tendons here and there… Putting the competition away for you…” Your eyes were already looking up at him with desire, with the need of being alone with him, of him claiming you, completely. He smirked down towards you, leaning down to talk closely onto your face.

“What’s your choice, Bunny?” He softly asks, his eyes hinting of desperation, but also insecurity of some sort, but he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t, because you are his, you’ve always been his.

“I’ll stay with you, forever, if you’ll have me.” His eyes widened slightly with emotion, his gut turning at your words and his hand flew to grab onto your jaw, harshly, to pull you towards his lips, into a messy yet wanton kiss. A kiss that he had been craving for far too long. You moaned onto his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he finally let your thighs go, his calves resting on the floor now. 

His teeth caught onto your bottom lip, and you could already feel the iron taste filling your mouth, knowing he was piercing your skin, but that only made your thighs clench with eachother even more, wetness pooled inside your shorts as his actions showed you that he studied you, that he knew you, and he knew what you were into. He pulled away from you, licking his lips from your blood as he looked down, seeing your bottom lip with your red tint, blood coming out from the inside of it. 

“You’re mine. I’m going to protect you Bunny, I’m not letting anyone take you away from me, and if they dare come close… I’ll kill them, you say the word… And I’ll kill everyone you tell me to.” A soft smile spread on your face as you looked at him, crazed and wild eyes staring at each other as your grip on his shoulders tightened, and a firework was shot into the sky, but you two didn’t move. Just stared into each other's eyes. 

You’re free.

Your hands gripped on your last bag with the remaining clothes you had. A smile on your face the whole time the elevator dinged closer and closer to Eddie’s penthouse, one of the many properties he possesses. You hadn’t changed, still wearing the white stained dress over your body, but the people that organized this trial had already sent your prepared luggage to Eddie’s, meaning that the only thing left to deliver was you.

The ding didn’t even startle you as the doors opened, and a big double door greeted you a few steps away from the metal confinement. You stepped towards it, and grabbed onto the handle, finding the door open. A smile appeared on your face as you opened it, walking in to take in the immense decorated space in modern yet vintage looking furniture. You put your bag down, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside the apartment, seeing that it had stairs going up to a second floor. 

You were looking around, knowing that he should be here somewhere. After he had caught you, you were brought into the office to sign off the permanent contract to him, with a smile to your face all the while. The host was simply looking at you as if you were insane, because being owned by the Black Dragon association was not something many desired, much less, being owned by the boss of it.

Eddie was sent home so you could gather your bags, and those bags you saw at the very corner of the living room. You heard something in the kitchen, making you tilt your head slightly at the sound, like a rattle, so you followed it, walking into the dimmed light kitchen, modern, with the cupboards and utilities in black, against the white marble counters, but your eyes centered on the person that was pouring two glasses of wine, in the middle of the room.

“Hello again darling.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and his eyes finally looked up to lock with yours. He was still shirtless, still with the same bloody clothes, the wound in his shoulder already stitched and bandaged, and your mouth salivated with the need of pressing your tongue onto his skin. His hair was down, eyes a deep brown that only made you move by instinct, slowly approaching him with your hands behind your back.

Like a small bunny.

“This house is a little big for you.” You say as you stand next to him, grabbing onto the wine glass and taking a small sip from it, the burning of the alcohol soothing your throat and calming your nerves. Nerves that were there because you waited so long to be with him, alone, like this. Completely owned by him, his property, his partner. 

“Glad that you are filling it with me now.” He says in a low tone, which sends shivers down your spine, because for some reason you knew that the night was going to be long, and that by the end of it, you won’t be able to walk. Hopefully.

“So, you’ve been studying me over the last three years, huh.” You say with a smile, not looking at him, still with the glass of wine on your lips, and the alcohol was slightly stinging the wound he provoked on you in the woods. 

“And you’ve been waiting for me for three years.” He retorted, his eyes slowly turning black from how his pupils began to dilate the more his eyes roamed your body. He took a large chug from his wine glass, putting the crystal on the counter again while you giggled at his words, making all of his blood go south immediately. 

“Took you long enough.” You replied to him and his hand twitched on the counter as he stared down at you. Your giggle stopped but that wicked smile was still on your lips, setting your glass down as you finally turned your head to look at him. “I’ve been studying you too.”

“And how so?” He asks, the need to grab you, the need to get hold of you, pin you down, making you shut up, beginning to gnaw in the deep of his gut. You shrug at him, not even sparing him another word and his eyes twitched, his fire igniting as his right hand rises up, tracing your cheek softly in which you melted at, pressing your face against it. 

Your eyes suddenly widened when his hand enveloped your throat, in one swift movement, and pressure was applied, cutting your blood flow and oxygen at the same time. A choked moan escaped your lips as he looked down at you, a smile appearing in his lips, knowing very well that you were drenched by now, clenching onto nothing as he applied more pressure on you.

Asphyxiophilia: Sexual Arousal when being choked, often cutting the oxygen circulation.

“Now, let’s get one thing straight Bunny.” His left hand, which was still on the counter, found the knife he had already prepared for this moment, the knife that would start it all. “I own you. I make the rules and you just follow them. There’s nothing else you have to do.” 

You nodded, choking on your voice as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his wrist and he finally let go of some of the pressure to let oxygen flow in your body again. You choked a sigh of relief, your breathing already jagged by how much air entered all at once in your lungs again, yet his hand was still on your throat, his tattooed hand. 

His left hand raised up, pressing the tip of his blade onto your cheek, the smile still on his face as he looked at you. You smiled through your dizziness at him, and oh you were so beautiful. He guided his knife down, slowly, gliding it over your body, until he reached the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp tip of the knife over your shorts, your clit twitching at the sharpness of it. That sent an adrenaline shock through your body that almost made you squirm, but you knew that if you moved he might hurt you there.

He appreciated you staying still, and you were just too perfect for him. He twisted the knife so the blade would be facing upwards, and he slowly punctured the tip of the knife inside your shorts, but not through your soaked underwear. He smirked at you one last time and that’s when you heard the intense ripping sound, a gasp escaping your lips, the blade stretching the dress off your body as it ripped it in half, going all the way to your collarbone. 

His eyes scanned your frame, a white bra on your body as well as the matching thong that he could see from the slit of your shorts. The both of you had dirt all over yourselves, but that only enticed him to take you even more. To finally own you completely. He motioned towards your hands with the knife, which were still wrapped around his wrist. You gave a sigh as you dropped your hands to your sides, making the dress finally fall off from your shoulders, as if it were a coat. 

He slowly let go of your neck, letting the knife rest on top of the counter again, your breathing heavy and with the imprints of his fingers already on your neck, and tears were threatening to fall down from your eyes as you looked at him, but they weren’t enough. They weren’t enough for him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you completely ruined by him. 

“On your knees.” You shivered at his command, wanting to be a brat, deny him, but this is what you’ve always wanted, to belong to him. For him to use you as he pleases, for him to drag you around like a plaything, but yet, to protect you like a partner, like an equal. You slowly got down on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes and he pressed his fingers under your chin to keep you up. ���Will you do everything as I say?”

“Yes, yes, I will.” You were desperate now, not being able to handle anymore teasing from him. 

“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” He commanded this time, and you did as told, opening your pretty mouth from him, your pink tongue sticking out and he grinned at the view. He gathered his saliva inside his mouth, to then lean in and drop his spit into your mouth and tongue. He immediately closed your mouth with force. “Swallow.”

You didn’t. You closed your eyes at the taste of him in your tongue, just for a second and his eyes widened, lust covering his features as he saw you moaning with his spit in your mouth. You then swallowed, and opened your eyes again, sticking your tongue out for him, as if asking for more. He straightened up, his belt coming undone, the leather slipping off from his pants. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it later on.

“What do you want me to do now?” You ask him and he simply smirks down at you, wicked eyes crossing his features as he unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down.

“You just stay there, look pretty, while I fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” A gasp was heard from you but it was an excited one, your eyes immediately darting towards the bulge that was inside his pants as he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers. His cock springing up to hit against his pelvis, right in between the V shape that you want to trace your tongue on. “Spit.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you lunged forward as he grabbed onto his shaft, pulling it down for you to spit on it, and his hand started going up and down on himself, slowly, and your lips turned into a pout as you stared. It wasn’t fair, you wanted to do that. You raised your hand up only to be stopped by a sting, a sharp sting and a smack. His other hand was still holding the folded belt, and he used it to hit your hand away, making your eyes sting with tears as you put your hand back down, rubbing it softly with your other one, looking up at him with a frown in your face.

“Wh–”

“Don’t fucking touch me. I said, STAY THERE.” He almost growls at you, sending another shiver down your spine, but you straightened up, looking up at him, waiting for his instructions as he still stroked himself with your spit, making you gulp with need, seeing how large he was, your body moving forward, wanting to give it at least a small kiss to the head, only for another sharp sting hitting you, this time, it was a slap by his big hand, not that hard, but not gentle either, making you turn your head away with a whimper.

He waited for you to turn back at him, to see your reaction, to see what you are thinking because even if he studied you, he still has some self control and empathy in himself, and much more when it comes to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you in ways that you do not enjoy, but as you slowly turn to look back at him, your cheek stinging, with a smile to your face and hazy looking eyes as if in a trance, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.

“Can I beg?” You ask, and it was an honest question, a question of boundaries, a question to get to know him even more, to know what you can and can’t do, and he was appreciative of that.

“Yes. Beg for my cock, I want to hear how much you want it Bunny, how much you’ve been wanting it for these past three years.” And your breathing hitched at that, an excited smile appearing in your lips as you looked up at him, your brain completely drained from conscious thought as your desire poured out of your lips.

“Please Eddie, I want your big cock in my mouth, please… I want to taste you, have your cum dripping in my throat, been wanting it for so long, please– Don’t keep me waiting baby, please…” Your sultry voice filled his ears, a shiver running down his spine as his dick twitched in his pants, asking for attention, but there was a reason for you wanting to beg, because you studied him too… You know what he likes.

Narratophilia:  Sexual arousal to obscene words.

“Then open your fucking mouth, and you’ll take what I give you.” You didn’t waste a second, your nails digging in your knees as you opened your mouth again, sticking your tongue out for him. With one hand he guided his cock, and with the other he pressed it at the back of your head, pulling you forward towards it. 

He first taunts you, pulling your head back for you to kitten lick the tip, to then pull you forward again to take it into your mouth only to repeat the motion again. A soft whimper vibrated in your throat, which made Eddie’s hold grow tighter on your scalp, and he finally thrust himself inside of your mouth, halfway in and started going in a slow pace first so your mouth would get coated in your saliva. He knew he would hurt you if he made you deepthroat at once, and he didn’t want to destroy your vocal chords, at least not yet.

You closed your eyes as you hollow your cheeks to finally start sucking on him, letting him bob your head back and forth at his own pace, but you relished in the taste of him, a moan escaping your throat in delight as your spit helped your movements be smoother each thrust he did into you. He was holding back his groans at your sight, finally having you at his mercy, on your knees. His self control slowly slipping away as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, loving the way he could feel you moaning against him.

Your pussy clenched at nothing, and you wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the tension building inside of you, but you knew better than that, so you kept your hands at your knees, fingernails scratching your skin. His hand finally let go of his cock, guiding it towards the back of your head, finally joining his other one, gripping onto your hair. He stopped you from bobbing your head, only for him to start thrusting himself inside of your mouth, inside and out, still in a slow pace.

Your eyes opened to look up at him and his eyes beamed at how you were looking at him. Pleading for more. So that, he did. He thrusted deeper this time, a gulp being heard from you, a gargle, but not a gag, not quite yet. His pace quickened, a groan finally coming to his throat as your eyes started tearing up the deeper he went in. This is what you wanted, to be used by him, and your wetness sipping through your underwear and shorts even was an indication of that.

“What a fucking slut, not even gagging.” He chuckled only to stop when even if you had a mouth full of him, he could still see the cocky turn up of the corner of your lips while staring up at him. His nose flared and he suddenly slammed himself inside your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A tear slid down your cheek and you finally gagged at him, but because it was a surprise to you more than anything. He pulled back only to slam himself back in, your gags and gurgles filling the room as your mascara started running down your face.

He pulled back just for a second for you to take a deep breath through your nose, and he trembled slightly with a moan caught in his throat as he saw your face. His hands gripping your hair even tighter, not being able to contain himself as he started thrusting himself into your mouth, quick, but not deep like before, yet your spit mixed with his precum started slipping from the sides of your mouth. 

He couldn’t help but wanting you to keep crying, to keep tearing up, so he slammed himself again against your mouth, hitting your throat again, and you breathed through your nose in order not to gag, but your eyes widened when you realized that he was staying there. You whimpered against him, as more tears slipped through your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing under control, but he was groaning in pleasure at the sight. 

You started gagging, your body lurching forward a couple of times and that was Eddie’s queue to finally pull away from you, taking his cock out of your mouth.

“Ung–” You were panting, trying to move your throat a bit to numb the sudden beating it received, but Eddie simply pulled you up from your hair, making you gasp as you stood on your two feet again, your knees screaming in pain from being against the hard floor for too long. His face was inches from yours and your eyes saw what he was looking at. You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face as you felt his dick twitch against your hip as he inspected your cheeks, your tears.

Dacryphilia: Sexual arousal to seeing the partner crying or shedding tears.

His lips immediately connected to yours, a rough, deep kiss, full of lust and desperation. Your mouth opened for him, once again, and his tongue invaded it in a second. You clenched again when you felt his tongue piercing all around your cavity, on your tongue, clinking against your teeth. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the mix of his taste, your spit, as well as the saltiness of your tears. 

He pulled away from you, pulling his boxers and pants up but not buttoning himself up as you stared at him, completely dazed for his next move. He couldn’t help himself and he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, in which you sighed dreamily at, knowing you were being a good girl. His good girl.

“Let's go upstairs. I have to ruin you.” You trembled at his words, excited for that to happen, excited to be ruined by him, excited to be yourself with him. He turned you around, and he grabbed his belt from the counter with one hand, the other being pressed against the small of your back, guiding you towards the stairs. You went up, your pussy clenching at each step taken as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. He was right behind you, now finally walking you towards his room.

He opened the door for you, and you walked in to take it all in. Realization hit you. This wasn’t just any of Eddie’s properties, this was his house, the one he considered home, the one that was all him and not something designed by someone else. His guitars were on display on one wall, a few paintings and limited vinyl editions of what you believed were his favorite bands, the big king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark comforters, and the big window on its side, a few feet away with long black draped curtains. 

You were now part of his home.

A sudden feeling filled you as you turned around with excitement to wrap your arms around his shoulders, the action completely startling him as he looked down at you. Your lips immediately found his, as you took in the feeling that he owned you, but in the most caring way possible, and like you stated before, you knew he wasn’t going to cage you up, not that you minded if it was done by him.

His lips moved with yours as he slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands going to your back to finally unclasp your bra. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you pulled away from him, taking your bra off completely. He looked down at your bare breasts, wanting to dive into them, take them into his mouth, but he made a promise to you first. He raised a hand, slapping one of your tits with it, making you gasp with a moan.

“Get on the fucking bed, and raise your hands over your head.” You smiled at him as you sat down on the bed, pushing yourself backwards into the middle of it as he kept his eyes on you, slowly walking towards the side of the bed as you laid down, throwing your arms up, almost touching his black headboard. From the corner of it, he opened a small wooden door, at the very top, and he started pulling a black rope from it, your eyes widening at it, while a small smirk spread on your cheeks.

“The headboard seems new.” You managed to say in a hoarse voice, and he chuckled at that, grabbing onto your right wrist, pulling you towards the bracelet of the rope, wrapping it tightly around your skin. 

“Custom made. Received it a couple of days ago.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to you about that, nor tease you, because he wanted you to know that he prepared himself for you and just you. This bed was made for you, and that made you moan with need, your thighs rubbing together at his confession. He circled the bed, going to the other top corner of his headboard to pull the same rope out, grabbing your left wrist and pulling you towards him again, and you felt the tug onto your right hand, not letting it move further. 

“How thoughtful of you Eds.” You smiled at him when you noticed he wasn’t tightening the bracelets too hard on your skin. You have noticed that he was thoughtful of you, careful to some degree with you, yet, rough. His hand went down again, slapping at your left breast now, your back slightly arching at the feeling, with a moan trapped in your throat.

“Are you going to stop talking?” You giggled and licked your lips, wanting once again to go against him, but you knew better. You liked being dominated, you really did, and you knew that your other side was something you couldn’t do with Eddie. He sighed at your giggling, heading towards his dresser where he left his belt at the top of it. You bit your lip as your eyes glistened with anticipation.

“You’re gonna punish me? Don’t you want to fuck me? Take me? Breed me? Why are you taking so long Eddie?” You lifted your legs up, bending at your knees, spreading them open for him and he almost dropped the belt to the ground at your words, groaning as you used his kink against him. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and you smiled at him, a wicked smile.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.” 

SMACK.

You gasped loudly as your body jolted upwards from the mixed sensations that just went through your whole body, like an electric shock. He swung his belt towards your clothed cunt, smacking it, sending a sharp yet burning pain through your whole body, and your clit throbbed with the need of more friction, even if painful, it still felt so good after being neglected for a long while.

Eddie was smirking as he looked at you, squirming under him, his cock wanting to explode out of the confines of his boxers again, the zipper that was already down from his pants digging into the bulge as it twitched on him. He raised his belt again, smacking you on your left inner thigh, making you jolt again and your legs spread even more. You were perfect for him, simply perfect, moaning thanks to what he was doing, tears starting to form in your eyes again… You were his.

Sexual sadism: Sexual arousal on causing pain, non life-threatening.

“Eddie– Eddie please–” You were begging again, but that earned you another bruising smack to your other inner thigh, your back arching at the pain, yet pleasure that shot through your body as the ropes on the headboard clinked at the movement of your arms.

“Are you that desperate for my cock?” He says as he looks down at you, and you nodded desperately, a tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, and honestly, Eddie was too. He waited too long for this, and even though he wanted to do so many more things to you, he knew he had time, that you both had time.

“Yes, please, fill me up– I need your cock inside of me, waited too long for you baby, don’t tease me anymore, don’t tease us any longer…” You begged but this time it was a genuine one, a very truthful one that Eddie couldn’t deny. He put the belt to the side, almost throwing it, and he grabbed the hem of your ripped shorts and underwear, ripping it off from you in one move, helping him with the movement of your legs. 

He looked down at your wet pussy, and you already made a complete mess of yourself. The shorts were drenched as well as your tongue, and he couldn’t help but think again that he was blessed with you by some god. You were his equal, completely unhinged, crazy, and you two were desperate for one another. 

His cock would have to wait, because he couldn’t help himself as he saw you like this, at his mercy, legs spread and inner thighs red from his ministrations. He held you at the back of your knees, your eyes widening when he bent them forward, towards your chest, and your hips raised up, your cunt facing the ceiling. He smirked at it, leaning down to take a long swipe against your wet folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You wanted to arch your back, but you couldn’t as his grip was tight on the back of your thighs, making your back arch downwards. A moan escaped your lips as he kept swiping his tongue on you, licking on your wetness, tasting you, and groaning at how sweet you were, relishing in the fact that he could have you like this any time he wants from now on. Your hands made the ropes clink again, as you tried to guide them to his head, to hold onto him, and you whined at the restraints.

“Eddie– Eds–” You moaned his name and his hand raised up to smack your lifted ass as it left your thigh to do so. You gasped at the feeling, keeping your knees to your chest in order not to go against him. He flicked his tongue on your clit, and your moans finally started coming out of your mouth, one after the other. He was almost eating you up, like a starved man. 

And he couldn’t get enough. He could do this all day, he could stay buried in your pussy if he could because you just tasted so good, so much better than what he anticipated, than what he had imagined. All these years of waiting paid off, because it tasted as if you were waiting for him, it tasted like you were made for him, to his taste, that someone made his favorite flavor, and it had always been you.

His tongue finally dipped inside you, and he moaned against your cunt as he felt your walls clenching around him, the ropes clinking as you thrashed your arms from the sensation, his nose bumping on your clit as he moved his head up and down, his tongue flicking inside of you, and he really was devouring you. 

Thanks to all the edging, the teasing, and how you had been wet from the very moment you saw him in the ballroom, the coil in your belly started to form rapidly. Your moans escalated in sound, and your eyes closed at how good his tongue was flicking at your walls, trying to reach that place that would make you see stars. He took his mouth off you with a gasp, getting air back in his lungs and you almost cried at the loss, only to feel one strong and large finger enter you, and curling in a come hither motion. 

“Oh, FUCK!” Your head went back into the pillows as a moan escaped from your lips, loud, the spongy part of yourself being rubbed onto over and over again. He smirked at the sight, his panting from desire being heard along your moans.

“Are you enjoying yourself little Bunny?” He asks and you nod your head desperately, tears prickling in your eyes as you feel the burning at your hip from the position and your wrists tugged onto the ropes again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please– Please keep going!” And he was going to. He wasn’t going to edge you, not this time, because you’ve been such a good girl, even if a little bratty, you were a good girl for him. He pushed another finger inside of you, your eyes widening as both of them started rubbing you, repeatedly, your belly screaming for release. Your chest was heaving up and down as your panting increased and his movements became fast, the squelching of your cunt being heard across the room.

“Come on, cum for me. Fucking look at me while you cum.” And that you did, staring up at him with your mouth open, moans coming out as your belly finally exploded, your vision going white as you tried to keep your eyes open for him, but you knew the tears were blocking your vision. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers and you heard him curse at the feeling as he tried to keep the fast pace on you. Your legs trembled around him as his name spilled out of your lips.

“Eddie! Oh my god, SHIT!” You kept riding your orgasm against his fingers, your walls clenching and unclenching until it finally stopped, your body jolting once, then twice as Eddie slowed down his fingers on you, and once he saw you relaxing onto the bed again he pulled them out of you.

He was breathing heavily, looking down at you as he made your lower body hit the bed again, a sigh of relief mixing with your panting as you finally felt some of the burning on your hip go away. He looked at his fingers, licking your juices off of them, and through your half lidded eyes you could see him, making your pussy clench again. You wanted to laugh at how needy you were, how desperately you wanted him. 

He wasn’t going to last long, not with you having sucked his dick, and he almost busted through his boxers while eating you out. He got off the bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth from your slick and his spit, wanting to keep your taste on his mouth for a little longer. He walked over to one side to let your left wrist go, and he rubbed the red mark that appeared on your skin. You smiled up at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay. He then walked to the other side to let go of your other hand, followed by him ripping himself off his pants and underwear. 

You wanted to have him in your mouth again, seeing his pink tip leaking precum was enough to make you want to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, buit he had other plans for you. He got on the bed again, but before getting in between your legs, he got his hands underneath your ass and waist, turning you over and onto your stomach, a gasp coming out of your lips. 

He positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips with his fingertips digging on the flesh of your skin, marking you up. When you left your upper body on the mattress, he groaned and grabbed onto his belt again that was on the edge of the bed, almost falling over, and made a snapping sound with it before landing it against your right cheek, making you jolt up and almost squirm away from the sting. 

“In all fours, or I’ll strap you to this fucking bed without touching you again.” That made your trembling hands press against the mattress to prop yourself up instantly. You stuck your ass at him, wiggling your hips slightly, earning yourself another smack from his belt on your other cheek, a squeal escaping your lips now. Another smack on the same place, and now a moan was heard in the room as the burning increased in that area. 

“Eddie…” You whimpered and he put the belt down, grabbing your ass with one hand, and his cock with the other to finally guide it to your waiting entrance. You moaned with need when he pressed the tip against your clit and you knew what you had to do now. “Please, I need your cock, don’t tease me anymore–”

He plunged himself inside of you, a choked gasp trapping itself in your throat at the sudden massive stretch with no mercy, your eyes widening at the feeling as they immediately prickled with tears from the sting. He was halfway in, and started invading your hole, a little slow, but not quite. He groaned with a smile to his face as he felt your tight walls engulfing him.

“Yeah, this pussy was made for me… So perfect.” You whined at that, almost a whimper as he finally bottomed out and you felt him almost at your throat. He was too deep inside of you, the stretch almost painful, but it couldn’t compare to how much pleasure it gave you. You needed him to move despite the burning sensation, because your belly was screaming for him, your mind and sould needed him.

“Eds, move, please move–” You didn’t have to beg anymore. He pulled back and slammed himself back in, making the fat of your ass jiggle at his movement, and a loud moan was out of your mouth in a second. He repeated the motion until he started going at a brutal pace, and the slamming of the headboard filled the room in between your breaths and the moans. Your arms were trembling as your body went back and forth against him, his hands now at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.

You could hear the squelching of your pussy as he moved, wet from your climax and getting even wetter at finally having him, at finally feeling him inside of you, and the realization that you get to have him from this day on whenever you want. He was moaning, without shame at all because you were too warm, too beautiful, too pretty right now. His hands went towards your asscheeks, spreading them open to see your small hole, and a grin formed in his face between his jagged breaths.

“Next time– I’ll prep you, and I’ll fuck this little hole of yours. Would you like that, my sweet Bunny?” My. My. My. You were cock drunk now, not being able to think about anything else but him, and the way he was claiming you over and over again at every slam of skin against each other. 

“Yes! Yes! I’ll take anything from you–Fuck!” He wanted to laugh at that, as he smacked your ass with his hand, against the already bruising mark that was there. You groaned at that and he pressed his hips against you, harshly and deep and you choked on your own sounds at that. You were certain that if you pressed your hand against your belly, you would be able to feel the tip of his cock inside of you.

He reached out to grab hold of the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair to finally clench at your scalp, making you yelp. He pulled you upwards, your back hitting his chest as you ached it for him to keep thrusting in and out of you but he stood still. His mouth was on your ear as he breathed against it, whispering softly.

“You are so fucking perfect for me.” You smiled at that, your bodies sticking against each other's sweat. You licked your lips as you turned your head to look at him.

“I studied you too, you know…” You confessed to him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. You grabbed onto his hand that was in your waist, pulling it up towards your mouth. You put his index and ring fingers inside, sucking on them and you felt his hips start to move inside of you, at the same rhythm of your lips. You pulled them out to graze your tongue towards the belly of his palm where you suddenly bit at the flesh, harshly, marking him. His dick twitched inside of you as he moaned against your ear a smile appearing on your lips as they still latched on his skin, blood filling your mouth.

Odaxelagnia: Sexual arousal to biting or being bitten.

“You fucking slut.” He ripped his hand away from you, and despite the pain, he gripped onto your hips again, setting a brutal pace against you, your back arching against him, ass sticking out as your head rested against his shoulder. His mouth immediately found your shoulder, biting onto your skin until his teeth went through, your eyes widening at the burning and pain, but it sent an electric shock towards your belly which began its tightening again. 

“Only for you– God, just for you–!” He licked the blood that oozed out of the inflicted wound, and his other hand went towards your clit as his hips slammed against your ass, his dick hitting that perfect spongy part of yourself that made you moan almost in screams as he hit it repeatedly and without missing. His fingers started circling against your nub and your pussy clenched around him, earning a moan from his part.

“You have to come with me, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good.” He says into your ear and it comes unexpectedly, your eyes widening as his words triggered your orgasm way harsher than before, his fingers flicking on your clit rapidly as your juices gushed around him, making a mess out of your legs and his, and the comforter below you two. He cursed under his breath as his movements started faltering, stuttering.

“Eddie– Fuck, please, PLEASE–” You were still riding your orgasm out when you felt that warmth finally fill your belly, coating all of your walls as he spent his seed inside of you. He moaned loudly against your shoulder, as he kept pumping himself inside of you, your pussy clenching him to milk every single drop until you finally came down from your high and his hips stopped moving completely.

You were both breathing heavily as you tried to get some oxygen in your lungs. The room smelled like sex, your sweat, your juices, his cologne, and it was such an amazing smell to you. He groaned when he finally pulled out of you and his hand raised up to grab onto your chin, turning your head to look at him. His lips found yours again, this time, a tender kiss, a kiss of belonging, a kiss that sealed this bond between you both.

Your new home.

“You really are on the pill then.” Eddie says as he lays in his bed, a new comforter over his legs as his back is pressed against his headboard. You were naked with a towel on your hand as you dried your hair with it, walking towards him after a nice shower you both took together.

“Of course.” He groaned at that with his arms crossed over his chest, looking away. He knew it was too soon to have a kid with you, but he really wanted to claim you in every way possible, and having a family with you, was another way of doing so. You smiled at him, throwing the towel to the floor, as you got inside the bed with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Why did you decide to enter the trial?” He asks you and you hum at that question.

“My father has been trying to marry me off for the past three years… Sadly, all of my bachelors went missing, or were killed in action.” You say with a smirk to your face, and Eddie’s grin widened at that. He can still remember the screams of the men that tried to marry you, claiming you like he did. 

“I wonder what happened.” He says as if he were playing dumb. You giggled at that and nodded.

“Hmm… You didn’t know about my last bachelor, did you?” He blinked at that, and looked at you as you stared forward, a glint in your eyes that were filled with mischief, but also lust. “Right before entering the trial, my father told me I was to be set up with a new bachelor, and to be honest, he is a pretty, a very pretty boy.” You licked your lips at those words, Eddie’s attention already drawn to you as you spoke.

“Who was it sweetheart?” You turned to look at him, a wicked smile on your face.

“Harrington Jr.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at that. The son of the Harrington Emporium. You licked your lips at him as he hummed at you, his eyes suddenly turning lustful as he looked down at you.

“Mmm… He is a pretty boy.” You turned your body to be closer to his ear as you talked in a sultry tone.

“Can I have him Eddie? Please?” He chuckled at that, but a new obsession was growing in his head, storming his mind. “I’ll share him, I promise…”

“We can plan on him being the next White Rabbit.” He says and your chest was filled with excitement as your hand reached for his cheek to make him turn to you, licking your lips as you talked.

“I’m the hunter next year.”

“He’s all yours.”

Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose.

Second part maybe? Do you guys want Stevie?

REBLOGS MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY YOU KNOW.

A/N: Yeah, kinda came out of my shell with this one, I hope you all like it, and if you don't well, you do you booboo. TO ALL MY FRIENDS THAT WAITED FOR THIS, HERE YOU GO, I LOVE YOU, MWAH.

[smutbymia]

classmate jeno x reader with enemies to lovers please 🥺

There were a million and one reasons why you couldn’t stand Jeno: 

1. he’s an asshole

2. he’s the student body president for the second year in a row (you lost twice)

3. he’s a popular rich kid

4. he’s smart, athletic, AND good looking (I mean seriously... who is that lucky?)

Just to list a few. 

        You went to school together all your lives and it somehow felt like each year he got more and more irritating. This year is your last year and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let whatever ridiculous rivalry you and Jeno had ruin it. And so far you had done a good job of keeping that promise until this very moment. 

School had ended for the day, marking the completion of the first week of your senior year. You were reaching for a pen that dangled from a string next to a sign up sheet when you felt the warm skin of another hand brush against yours. You raised your head planning to mutter a quick apology to the person until you locked eyes with that bastard Jeno. The soft expression on your face immediately went icy as did his. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you spat at him, the pen lingering in your hand. Jeno plucked it from between your fingers and wrote his name on the sign up sheet. Your eyes went wide and he dropped the pen, letting it hang from its string once more before turning to you and stepping forward. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he towered over you with his height. 

You groaned, stomping your feet before whining “You’re already president, why do you have to join yearbook too?” 

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Because I need more clubs for my college application.”

Your eyes shot daggers into his. You picked up the dangling pen and scribbled your name under his on the list before turning on your heels and walking into the open classroom next to you. You emerged from the room an hour later, expressionless. You pinched yourself, hoping that today was just an awful nightmare. Person after person left the room, walking past you until the hall went quiet with the exception of a few voices that lingered further down the school hall as people slowly made their way out. 

Things had gotten just slightly worse. When choosing the president for the Yearbook club, you and Jeno ended up in a deadlocked vote -- thus encouraging Mr. Park, the faculty member in charge to come up with the brilliant idea of electing you both to share the presidency. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had to be in the same club. Now the two of you would be spending basically the entire year together working on such an important project. 

“Im not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me,” you repeated to yourself quietly as you slowly walked towards the nearest exit, in what felt like a daze. 

“That is quite the mantra,” teased Jeno. He had left the classroom last after talking with Mr. Park and caught up to you at some point. You jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“What do you want now?” you groaned.

Jeno stepped in front of you blocking your path. 

“Does it look like I want to be president with you? I’m being mature about it because it’s what everyone else wanted so you should stop acting like such a brat,” he spat. 

“You’re calling ME a brat? How ironic,” you scoffed, “You’re already in a ton of different clubs and hold multiple presidencies. What else could you possibly need for your college application? You could even buy your way in if you wanted to.”

Jeno froze at your final sentence. You continued the assault of words. “You know what your problem is? You can’t stand to lose,” you said, standing toe to toe with him. Jeno chuckled under his breath before bending slightly so that his face was hovering over your face. 

“You know what your problem is, princess? You’re okay with losing unless it’s to me,” he began, “You may still be royalty but that doesn’t mean you are anywhere near as powerful as I am,” he said as he straightened himself back up, walking backwards as he spoke. He tapped on one of the series of pins fastened to his school uniform jacket and you dropped your gaze to see what he was gesturing to -- it was a golden line drawing of a king’s crown. You locked eyes one last time before he turned around and stormed out of the school, leaving you standing alone in the empty corridor, blood rushing through your body with your fists balled up at your sides. 

That night you returned home, diving right into your study routine and getting an early start on some assignments to distract yourself from the awful day you were having. You had just gotten comfortable in bed when your phone buzzed with new notifications. You leaned over to squint at the bright screen. 

JENO: It’s Jeno 

JENO: School tomorrow. 5:30pm. 

You groaned before reaching for the device to type out a reply. 

Y/N: How did you get my number?

JENO: I’m the student body president. I can do anything I want. 

JENO: Just be there we have work to do. 

You rolled your eyes at his response before locking your phone and drifting off to bed.

The next day flew by the way Saturday’s typically did. You had breakfast with your family before heading out for a jog and coming home to do some workouts on youtube in your bedroom before taking some time to study and do some yearbook club work. When that evening finally rolled around you threw on some black biker shorts and a comfy oversized black graphic tee with some rock bands logo printed on the front before putting your hair up into a bun. 

Your school uniform was very preppy looking and you had to keep up appearances so every other part of your appearance had to be up to the same standard everyday. This resulted in you dressing quite “girly” so you enjoyed being able to dress down on the weekends when you weren’t out socializing.

Once you were done getting ready you made your way over to the school. According to Jeno, he had both keys and permission for the both of you to get some work done despite it being a Saturday. A security guard was parked outside by the gates when you arrived and you held up your yearbook club pass before he gave you a quick nod then immediately returned to watching some sports game on his phone screen and eating a sandwich. 

When you finally entered the school and got to the Yearbook/Media club lounge, you found Jeno leaning back in a computer chair as he clicked away at the mouse with his eyes glued to the monitor. He didn’t hear you when you entered because of the headphones he had covering his ears. He was dressed down too. He sported grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt and his black hair looked slightly damp as the strands clumped together slightly and rested against his forehead. He nodded his head to music, and tapped his free fingers against the desk he was seated at. 

When you stepped further into the room he spun in his chair to face you. Jeno’s eyes scanned the entirety of your body before he slipped the headphones down to his neck and spoke. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your preppy headband, all that makeup, and those stupid earrings you always wear,” he muttered. 

Okay, low blow. The downside to wearing school uniforms is that you lose a lot of your individuality, and the school rules limit what you can and cannot wear. In fact, students had to fight for the right to accessorize until the ban was lifted. You personally enjoyed wearing tons of different earrings from hoops, to waterfalls and of course you felt a nice headband would draw together your academia look. Both were your signatures and makeup was just a given at such a fancy school. 

“I’d insult you back but honestly you look a lot less annoying when you’re not wearing that preppy uniform jacket filled with pins and patches,” you snapped back. 

“Whatever, I never said it was meant to be an insult,” he mumbled before gesturing for you to come look at his computer screen. 

“I’ve been working on the first draft for the welcome week pages. I think we should follow this layout and theme for the rest of the yearbook. I’m submitting it to Mr. Park,” said Jeno.  

You looked over the screen as Jeno waited for your feedback. “I like my version better,” you said after a few minutes. 

“Your version? Let’s see it then,” he urged. You took a USB keychain that hung with the rest of your keys out of your bag and connected it to the computer before leaning over Jeno and pulling up the file. He shifted his chair backwards to give you room, and sat back as he admired you from behind. It wasn’t until you spoke to him again that you realized what he was doing. 

“How does it look?” you asked as the document loaded onto the screen.

“Real good...” he said as his voice dropped an octave. You turned your head to face him, catching him with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes still set on your backside before he drew them up to meet your gaze and flashing you a cheeky smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons. 

“Stop being a perv and come look,” you said sternly as you changed your position, lowering yourself to your knees by the monitor. Jeno scooted his chair forward again before looking up at your work. Within seconds he had a series of critical comments spilling from his mouth thus triggering a heated argument between the two of you. 

“You know what? I’m tired of going back and forth with you. Let’s just send both to Mr. Park and see which one he likes best,” he challenged. You were both on your feet now and standing toe to toe like you did yesterday during your face off. 

“Fine,” you accepted. Jeno sent the files off and the two of you drifted off into other work. You were both working in the dark room, developing some film, when you heard the faint sound of an email notification ring out from the monitor in the room next door. You and Jeno immediately looked at each other before frantically wrapping up your work and rushing to the computer. 

The two of you were huddled closely by the screen when Jeno clicked on the email to reveal its contents. You both silently read the screen before you were overcome with disappointment 

Mr. Park: Hey President’s. Both look great and would work perfectly with this years Yearbook but if you want my personal opinion, I think I’m leaning more towards Jeno’s! Great work so far and kudos for being so productive on a Saturday! Reach out if you need anything. 

You groaned as you stood back up. Jeno chuckled next to you. 

“Congratulations, you win again,” you snapped at him. He was so caught off guard by your tone that his smile fell from his face immediately and was quickly replaced by a smug expression. 

“Is that all that matters to you?” he asked raising his voice, “winning?”

You were toe to toe for the third time now and it was really starting to get on your nerves because Jeno was built and tall and something about him looking down on you made this stupid position even more annoying for you. 

“One thing! You couldn’t just let me have this one thing!” you yelled back. 

“Oh... my... GOD. You are unbearable!” Jeno groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“You want to know why I couldn’t let you have this one thing?” he started, leaning down closer to your face. He was inches from you now and his breath danced across your lips when he spoke. 

“Because... you’re such a fucking brat. Every time you whine and complain all I can think about is filling up this pretty mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice anymore,” he said through gritted teeth, reaching his hand up to your chin. 

“And your face... the look on your face every time i beat you at something or take something away from you... the way your eyes get big and teary, and the way you pout your lips like you’re doing right now” he continued, running his index finger across your bottom lip. 

“Nothing turns me on more than taming you like this,” he whispered. Your body shivered under his touch. You were fuming on the inside at his words. They hurt. Yet you were also feeling things you had never felt before. Your eyes scanned Jeno’s face, along his lips and eyes and his jawline. Your nipples hardened underneath the cotton material of your shirt. Jeno noticed. You fought back tears of frustration as one slipped down your cheek, cursing yourself for being so turned on at a moment like this. 

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeno muttered as he took his free hand to wipe away at the tear as his other hand cradled your cheek. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides and you stood frozen in your spot. 

“You’ve been so worried about me ruining you, but maybe that’s exactly what you need to get rid of that attitude...hmm?” he murmured. 

“I-I hate you,” you sputtered out, sounding more whiney than angry. Jeno let out a breath of air as the corner of his mouth turned up into a brief smile. He  stepped closer to you and you stepped back until you were trapped against a table.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled as he hovered his lips dangerously close to yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. You broke eye contact with him as your gaze settled on his lips. You subconsciously licked your own as you blinked away the remainder of the dampness in your eyes. 

You didn’t notice the way you gravitated towards his lips like a magnet until he leaned away from you slightly and your lips chased after his -- not letting the distance grow too much. Your eyes were still glued to his lips which had formed into a smug grin when you noticed how you had chased after his lips like a needy girl just as you felt the first wave of heat rush to your face.

“Just as I thought...” he muttered as one of his hands dropped to your waist and you felt him tighten his grip ever so slightly. Jeno ran his hand down the side of your body, trailing his fingers along your thighs before running his hands back up again -- this time gripping the bare skin of your waist underneath your graphic tee. 

You sucked in air when his warm hands came in contact with your skin. His eyes were glued to your face and his expression showed a slight hint of darkness. Jeno gripped your waist with both hands firmly before suddenly lifting you off the floor to sit on the edge of the table you had been trapped against. 

You let out a gasp as your butt landed on the cool surface, leaving you seated with Jeno standing between your legs. He bridged the gap between you by stepping closer and pulling you by your hips -- until every part of you was pressed against him. Your hands flew up to his chest to stop you from literally crashing into his chiseled torso.  

You accidentally let out a breathy moan when your crotches met -- feeling Jeno pressed against your center, leaving only the thin material of your biker shorts and your undies between your bodies. Jeno bit his bottom lip in response and rolled his lips once more, making you whimper and sending your hands sliding from his chest down to his waist. You hesitated but your hand placement was a dead giveaway that you wanted more friction. Jeno pulled at your hips one more time as he met your center with another stroke. You felt wetness begin to pool between your legs and tightened your grip on his waist. This time it was you who pulled him forward but he froze just before your bodies could properly connect again as you desperately tried to rut yourself against him. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your gaze immediately locked with his, eyes wide and lips pouted, a bit frustrated that he had stopped moving. 

“Good girl... Didn’t think you’d listen to me so well the first time,” he said, rewarding you with another roll of his hips. You groaned at the contact. 

“F-first time?” you question, rolling your hips to meet his as his breathing became more unstable. 

“It’s gonna be a long year, baby,” he started, “We have to work together, so it’s my responsibility to calm you down when you get all bratty.” 

There was something really sexy about the way you both managed to continuously grind against each other in pure ecstasy while having a full blown conversation, speaking between moans and grunts. 

“I’m n-not a brat, you’re just an asshole,” you snapped as you crossed your legs at your ankles, pulling him against you even harder. 

Jeno cursed under his breath at the friction as his hands reached down to grip at your ass before mumbling, “only person who thinks i’m an asshole is you,” he taunted, “you on the other hand are widely known for acting like a complete...”

You interrupted him with another roll of your hips, as a groan slipped from his lips. “Choose your next words carefully, Jeno,” you warned. 

he chuckled before finishing his almost forgotten sentence, “princess... that’s what you’re known for. For acting like such a fucking princess,” he groaned. 

Jeno wasn’t entirely wrong. You did strive for excellence when it came to your common interests in academics and extracurriculars. In fact, a pet peeve of yours was the fact that you and Jeno were always compared to each other, with most of the school being shocked that two people who were so alike seemed to always be at war with each other. In everyone else's eyes you were both one in the same.

Though you were respected, you weren’t delusional. There were definitely people who weren’t fond of you, but you had chalked it up to mere jealousy that was inevitable for a person who excelled as much as you did to experience. Jeno must have noticed your mind wandering because he lifted your chin slightly to direct your attention back to him muttering a soft “hey...” as he snaked his free hand up your shirt, hands brushing against your bare breast. 

You moaned when you felt his fingers tease your sensitive nipple. “Whats wrong with being a princess? People only call me that because they’re jealous,” you questioned. You had definitely begun to soak through your shorts, as you watched a faint wet patch begin to show on Jeno’s joggers. You gripped at the collar of his shirt as he dropped his head down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over the delicate skin. 

“F-fuck,” you groaned at the contact, hips jerking. 

“Exactly,” jeno said, lifting his head to lock his eyes with you again. “They’re jealous of how powerful you are... but that’s exactly what turns me on,” he confessed. 

He ran his hands along your cheek, leaning in to a whisper. “Do you know how hard it makes me when I think about turning the most powerful girl in school into a powerless mess?” Jeno tugged at one of your nipples as he finally drew your mouth into his for a kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, overcome with pleasure. 

Jeno deepened the kiss and for once you just allowed him to take control. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny that his energy was intoxicating and yes, maybe you were a little bit jealous of him for the same reasons as others were jealous of you. 

How could you not be attracted to someone who was as driven and talented and equally, if not even more powerful than you were in that regard. As much as you butt heads there was no doubt that you were very much a good fit for each other-- if all the fighting and competition were set aside, that is. But this didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was the way he was making you feel. It was as if though all those years of tension had finally bubbled over. 

Jeno’s tongue swirled against yours sloppily, just the way you liked. Even your bodies seemed to be on the same page. He pulled away from you after a few minutes of making out -- leaving a trail of spit hanging from your lips to his as he lifted you off the table and carried you over to one of the couches in the lounge area of the room. 

The sun had already begun to set ages ago, and only the faint hint of the computer screens you had been working on were illuminating the room. Jeno sat on the couch with you straddling his lap as he pulled his shirt over his head. You did the same and soon enough you were both left topless. Jeno wasted no time drawing you towards him and trapping a nipple between his lips as he palmed your other breast. You arched your back into him letting his name spill from your mouth. 

He kissed his way back up your chest as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

“Mmm.. Need all of this gone,” he said as he pulled at your shorts. You got up from his lap, and he immediately began to peel off the remainder of your clothing, dragging the material down the length of your body. 

His breath hitched as he stripped you of your shorts to reveal your white cotton thong. He brushed his fingers softly against the material before mumbling to himself, “cute...” 

His fingers ran against your slit, feeling the damp material under his touch and making you grow weak in the legs. 

“You’re so wet for me already... Such a good girl,” he said. Hearing words of praise fall from his lips like that made you feel so soft. For some reason, compliments hit different when they came from him. Your eyes drifted to the growing bulge in Jeno’s joggers. 

Your mouth fell open with the sudden desire to be filled with as much of him as you could fit as you slowly fell to your knees. Jeno raised his eyebrows while he watched you intently. You tapped your fingers against his knee, “off, please” you said as you pulled at the strings in the waistband of his bottoms. 

“Fuck, do you know how good you look on your knees for me?” he said as he lifted his hips to get rid of the rest of his clothing. Your eyes went wide when he finally settled back into his seat and began stroking his length while analyzing your expression. 

For once you couldn’t blame him for the arrogant expression on his face. He had every right to be proud of what he was packing. 

“Ugh, is every part of you perfect?” you complained as you scooted closer to him. You dragged your fingernails along his thighs as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth again. Your fingers danced dangerously close to his member as he slowed the movement of his hand before letting go of himself. 

You wrapped your hand around him, shocked at how much bigger he looked between your fingers. He throbbed and raised his hips slightly, thrusting up into your first. “Needy...” you teased, looking up at him as you giggled softly. 

“Y/n” he whimpered, a bit embarrassed at the sounds leaving his mouth now that you had momentarily gained the upper-hand. Jeno watched as you pressed your tongue to the slit of his cock before popping the head right into your mouth and sinking down around his length in one go, bottoming out. 

Your lips were wrapped around the very base of his cock when you moaned around him, making your entire mouth vibrate. 

“Holy shit,” he moaned loudly as he reached out a hand to draw circles on your cheeks while you worked at his length. You lifted your mouth all the way back, as his hips jerked forward again, fucking into your mouth as another whimper fell from his mouth. Your eyes were locked in his and you couldn’t believe how different he looked. His hard expression had gone soft. You had definitely managed to strip him momentarily of his power. 

“So naughty - where’d you learn - to use your mouth like this- huh, princess?” he asked between thrusts. Your eyes watered but you continued to let him use your mouth as you watched him grow more desperate. 

You removed him from your mouth with a pop as you pumped at his length fast. Jeno cursed under his breath before letting his head fall back on the couch for a moment. 

“Gonna c-cum,” he warned. 

“Look at me,” you ordered and Jeno obeyed.

You locked eyes as you delivered the final pumps, and waited with your mouth open and your tongue out as you felt him throb underneath your grip before spurts of his warmth shot up -- spilling onto your tongue and dripping from your lips down your chin. The remainder of his cum had spilled over onto your fingers, and you released him to pop them into your mouth to clean them off. 

You were aimlessly licking and sucking at your fingers, caught up in your own world when you noticed Jeno staring at you, chest rising and falling with a surprised expression on his face. 

“Hmm?” you hummed as you titled your head, wondering if everything was okay. Jeno, who had just cum harder than he ever had in his life was in pure disbelief at how you sat so calmly and managed to look so sweet and innocent with his cum dripping down your chin as you suckled at your own fingers. The sight alone made him start to grow hard almost instantly. 

After a few seconds he snapped out of it, leaning forward and cupping your cheek in his hand like he had been all night. 

“D-don’t think I’m letting you win that easily,” he muttered. He motioned for you to get off your knees, and he drew you in for a kiss as he repositioned you both on the couch so he would be on top of you. You seemed to have sparked the competitive fire within him. 

Jeno hadn’t expected you to switch on him like that and he was determined to follow through on his promise of ruining you. 

He trailed kisses down your body, skipping your pelvic region to drop kisses along your thighs as he peeled off your panties. 

“I’m sorry but I won’t be going easy on you... not after what you just did,” he warned as he pushed apart your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your center and it drove you insane. 

Jeno carried out the first lick along the length of your slit and it was enough to have you moaning and immediately roping your hands in his hair. You had been turned on for so long that even the slightest touch felt like heaven. 

He flicked his tongue against your entrance, muttering to himself about how great you taste, teasing you as your clit yearned for attention. He worked at your flesh, dipping his tongue in between the folds of your center before prodding at your hole and slipping his tongue inside. You tried to move your hips against his mouth but he firmly held you in place.

“Jeno, p-please,” you pleaded. He smiled against your skin as  he continued to dip his tongue into your hole, driving you closer to the edge but still not quite getting you there. 

“Whats wrong, princess?” he taunted before running his tongue up the length of your slit, once again avoiding your clit. You whimpered, reaching your hand down to feel yourself before he roped his fingers in yours to stop you. He lightly flicked his tongue against your clit, just enough to send electricity running through your body but still not enough to please you entirely. 

“I want to hear you beg for it,” he said as he blew air softly against your center, the sensitivity was overwhelming. He planted a soft kiss directly on top of your clit that would have melted your heart a bit if you weren’t so violently horny at this point. So instead, your hips jerked against the plushy feeling of his pursed lips. Jeno chuckled at your body’s reaction, before repeating the action -- drawing the same result.

After the third peck landed on your clit, and the third jerk of your hips sent you into a frenzy, you simply couldn’t resit any longer. 

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and words spilled endlessly from your mouth. “Please, Jeno.. fuck, please let me cum. I’m d-desperate,” you confessed as your hips raised off of the couch, and he pulled away teasingly watching you squirm beneath him. 

“How would you like to cum, baby?” he asked.

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you pleaded before adding a soft “please” to the end of your sentence. 

You watched Jeno position himself at your entrance before stopping. 

“i’m on the pill, we don’t need --,” you assured him, reading his expression. 

He groaned straight away, interrupting you before you could finish as his mind drifted to places he was too ashamed to admit. He ran his head along your slit, making you twitch before he entered you with a quick snap of his hips, bottoming out immediately and forcing a scream from your lips. 

You weren’t sure what to expect from Jeno but it definitely wasn't this. He angled himself perfectly, propping you up so he was hitting all the right places as he pounded into you relentlessly. Within a single minute you were both racing towards your orgasms. 

“I’m close,” he murmured as he planted a kiss to your lips. 

“Me too,” you answered, “one last thing...” you said as he continued to thrust into you at a delicious pace. 

“Hmm.. what is it, baby?” he asked. You locked eyes with him, feeling quite shy at your next words. 

“F-fill me up, please. I want you to cum inside of me, really really badly,” you whimpered and with a final groan at your unexpected demand, you felt Jeno’s warmth spill all over your insides, sending you right over the edge and leaving your insides contracting against him. The two of you remained exactly how you were for awhile. 

Jeno was the first to move after catching his breath. He slowly slipped out of you with a breathy moan before lowering himself towards your center and softly licking at your folds even though they were covered in his own cum. 

“Shit, i’m sorry... I barely made it to the end of your sentence before letting go,” he chuckled as he lapped at your skin. 

“JENO” you shrieked as an unexpected orgasm rushed through you again when he flattened his tongue against your entire slit and you found yourself moving against his mouth in seek of more pleasure. You pushed his head away as you clenched your legs together feeling a mixture of both pleasure and agony run through your body. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry... last one, i promise” he laughed as he moved to your face to plant soft kisses on your cheeks and a peck on your lips. It took you a while to come back from your high.

     it was a bit late when you guys had finally cleaned up and locked the school back up. Jeno had driven you home in his new Volvo which he tried to convince you was a totally normal back to school gift, and had texted you for the remainder of the night about things like yearbook, and homework. It almost seemed as though what had happened was merely a dream. 

It wasn't until you were back at school on Monday that you realized that going back to normal was going to be impossible. You and Jeno still bickered over Yearbook decisions and didn’t hesitate to challenge each other during class debates but things had changed. Every annoying exchange you had simply fuelled your desire more. 

You’d get into intense match ups only to find yourselves coming up with excuses about Yearbook club to sneak out of class for quickies in Jeno’s car. He even had his way with you more times than you could count across his desk in the office he was awarded after becoming student body president. At first it was fun -- your adrenaline would pump at the thought of sneaking around so much but then things slowly started to shift again. 

Soon, you would spend afternoons at his freaking massive mansion of a family home where you guys would go over yearbook work. When you didn’t have yearbook work to do, he began inviting you over for study sessions, and to do homework -- all of which would end in amazing sex. Soon those invites extended to regular hangouts for no particular reason but to enjoy each others company and you found yourself drifting away from casual hookups to something that felt heavier -- more serious. 

The final nail in the coffin was when Jeno let your little secret slip after getting so worked up in a class discussion. You had been discussing the symbolism of a film you had just watched for an english class when you began to clash. 

“Baby, that makes no sense,” he mumbled after you had shared your opinion. He was doodling aimlessly on his notebook. The entire class went wide eyed, and a few gasps were let out.

“Actually, it makes perfect s--” you began before freezing. You had just noticed his mistake, and everyone had noticed yours which was how the pet name didn’t seem to phase you at all. Luckily Mr. Park quickly moved on to another topic as you both sat cursing yourselves silently. 

After the final bell rang for the day, you locked eyes with Jeno. 

“Idiot,” you mouthed. He offered you a sheepish grin in return as he approached your desk.

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” he began, “but now that every knows..” Jeno, slipped his arm around you as you entered the hallway. Most students minded their business, which you were grateful for while others stared and whispered. 

“I have a student body meeting for the next hour... you have debate team right?,” he said as you approached an intersecting series of hallways. You nodded.

“I’ll meet you outside then, and we can go to mine to go over the photographer schedules for this months events,” Jeno said. 

“Sounds good,” you responded before turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction. Jeno’s grip on your wrist had him tugging you back towards him. 

He stood above you with an annoyed expression on his face, pouting. He pulled your face close to his, mumbling about you being heartless before he planted a lingering kiss on your lips, of course drawing the attention of onlookers. Your cheeks were on fire when he pulled back, leaving you flustered and a bit embarrassed as he shot you a final wink before checking his watch and rushing off to his meeting. You turned around to head to debate club, wondering how exactly your biggest enemy had turned into the sweetest, most caring lover you could have ever asked for. 

[cienie-isengardu]

Not only do I not regret asking you to "RELEASE THE RAMBLES!", I'm sending you requests for more. Below is a list of questions that I asked @bihansthot , and enjoyed their answers, but because you are so thorough, and answer in such depth, I'm re-asking them to you.

Brace yourself, it's a list. I didnt have time to sort thru them, I just copied and pasted, so if any are questions you already answered before, please feel free to include the links.

"LET US BEGIN!"

---------------------------------------------

In the spirit of potential future writing,  I'm trying to find a building that  would make a good substitution for Lin Kuei temple.

I've tried looking up ancient Chinese military barracks/forts, and have found some stuff,  but is all exterior.  Anyone know of any locations (or several I can cobble together) that would make good inspiration fodder?

---------------------------------------------

So, uhm, religion? What's the Lin Kuei's take on that one? I know they are aware of Gods, they team up with/ encounter Raiden all the time,  and have literally worked for/against Shinook, so I know they recognize higher powers... but I  guess the question is,  do they care?

Do they have a religion,  or spiritual practice that resembles religion? Or do they have a more practical approach "gods exist,  but we just consider them very strong people"?

Which segues into... do they recognize and participate in holidays, or things like birthdays? Or are all their celebrations work related (I.E. successful missions or levels of combat mastery)?

---------------------------------------------

Food.  What foods do they normally eat? What foods do they like?  What foods don't they like? What foods do they absolutely love so much they'll stop what they're doing to get it?

---------------------------------------------

If you had to match the Lin Kuei with a dynasty,  what one would it be? (I know the 2021 movie has the opening in the Ming dynasty, so the Lin Kuei is at least that old,  but given that movie Bi Han hasn't aged in 400 years, and was taken is a child,  its probably much older) (and also know the game probably cherry picked random Chinese things it liked).

What do you think the Lin Kuei's view on artistic culture (probably not the right word) is? I know they are heavily militaristic,  but in the game,  Kuai Liang offers Hanzo tea and he properly prepares it the Japanese way, that says they have something of an education other than just related to fighting?

Lastly,  in the movie,  everything Bi Han does is "for the Lin Kuei", but the Lin Kuei is on Earth (assumedly),  and he is working for a guy who wants to enslave Earth, so what do you think the deal is?

---------------------------------------------

Question about the Cryomancers. I know the game lore says that they are supposed to be rare, but I also know that the Lin Kuei have had at least 5 (grandpa, papa, older, and younger Sub Zero,  and Frost). 4 of which are part of 3 generations that inherited it even with mixed blood (I'm assuming Mama Sub Zero wasn't Cryomancer since they left her alone).

That's a lot of generations in a row for a rare trait... So do you think the Cryomancers as a group have figured out they're being hunted and have chosen to live in hiding?

---------------------------------------------

Lin Kuei society question? I like writing so I also like world building and I think about these things.

Is Lin Kuei society ever covered? I know there is a Grandmaster, a handful master assassins (Sub Zero's, Sektor, Cyrax, etc) and the  movies always have a bunch canon fodder lesser assassins.

And they live in the very isolated Lin Kuei Palace/Temple in Arktika (or wherever it used to be)

But is Lin Kuei (we'll call it "village") ever covered?   Do they have willing servants, kidnapped slaves, or a mix of both? Are there women (non fighter women,  I know there's Frost) or do they employ strictly male help? If there are women, what's their role, and are there children born there? What about Elderly? What about resources,  is everything (from food, clothes, weapons, and the raw materials to create them) grown or manufactured on sight by skilled laborers or do they import/interact with the outside world? How vicious or civil is this society, could you be killed for looking at Sektor wrong or do they value your services to a degree? What's the degree? This is obviously a combat culture,  but is everyone expected to know martial arts of some variety, is it optional, or do they prohibit it among the servants/slaves? How strict are they on things like clothing, food, alcohol,  drugs, "luxuries", or pleasures? Money? If they interact with the world do they recognize and use $$ currency, commodity currency, or a mixture? Internally are the Lin Kuei payed or just provided for? What about illness or injury,  if you're not a master and it a serious injury/illness are you taken care of or do they just give you a quick death?

Etc. That's all the questions I can think of,  but please feel free to answer questions I didn't ask,  if you think of anything else.

Thank you for this wonderful list to talk about! I’m gonna split the answer into smaller parts, for better focusing on each aspect but also so I don’t feel bad for keeping you waiting for ages, lol. For now let’s focus on asks about the religion!

So good questions! I do think they have some spiritual practice(s) because in martial arts the state of a mind is as important as the physical body and religion is one of many ways to shape someone’s mindset from a young age. I do, however, think that Lin Kuei does not worship the gods. They are aware that the gods exist (with Raiden as the thorn in the side) and may even respect their supernatural powers and battle skills but it never has stopped Lin Kuei from desecrating holy places, murdering people and stealing stuff for the best price. So, it seems to me that whatever religion the members of the clan follow, by nature it is rooted in nontheism.

Of course, there is also a chance that Lin Kuei worships some forgotten deity or deities (as a remnant of their ancient connections with Outworld / realms conquered and destroyed by Shao Kahn?) or may even practice ancestor worship which seems like a good way to uphold a widely understood tradition that plays an important role in the discussed community.

The closest thing to religious practice was seen in Mortal Kombat X, when Sub-Zero and his warriors seemed to pray together before statue of god / deity / ancestor / legendary warrior / personalized thing they value the most (sadly, my knowledge about Asian religious practices or faiths is very limited so I don’t have idea if the statue is supposed to represent any real god/religious symbol).

At the same time, it could be just a bluff since Grandmaster was aware of Cage’s team infiltrating the Lin Kuei territory and used this moment to lure them into a trap. Additionally, Mortal Kombat X comics presented once Kuai Liang sitting before the same statue albeit in a completely different (devoid of reverence?) position.

Of course, if we take into account Mortal Kombat Armageddon, the game states that Lin Kuei Temple placed in Arctika was actually once the Temple of Delia (the great sorceress & wife of god Argus) that at some point get abandoned and re-used by Sub-Zero’s clan.

(In the background, we can see a statue of Delia that Lin Kuei does not worship but did not remove for whatever reason. Mixing both old and new games, we can only wonder if MKX!statue is also the remnant of someone else's faith/religion?)

Beside that, Kuai Liang was pretty vocal about Lin Kuei not worshipping the Elder Gods, what was seen in MK11’s intro dialogue with Cetrion

Sub-Zero: The Lin Kuei do not worship the Elder Gods.

Cetrion: We seek gratitude, not worship.

Sub-Zero: I see no distinction.

and personally did not have any reason to pray to the goddess:

Sub-Zero: Why should I pray to you?

Cetrion: Why does a bird flap its wings?

Sub-Zero: I asked a simple question.

In all fairness, in MK11 Kuai Liang seems the most passive-aggressive toward the Elder God while Frost is focused on her ambitions and Noob!Bi-Han just wants to be left alone when bothered by Cetrion. Similar thing happens toward Raiden. Despite gratitude for saving him, Kuai Liang does not spare the god criticism (can’t serve both Elder Gods and Earthrealm, isn’t fit for his role of protector) and in MKX outright says he does not fear divine beings:

Raiden: Sub-Zero...

Sub-Zero: I fear no gods, Raiden.

Raiden': That's why you shall lose.

Surprisingly, Kuai Liang’s interaction with MK11!Fujin sounds less accusing than with Raiden and Cetrion and it is connected closely to their ties with Bi-Han. And maybe Kuai Liang did seek in the past Fujin and other elements to make a peace with them, like he planned to do so in Mortal Kombat 4 Limited comics?

"I came here to make peace with the gods of the elements that you fought [...]"

Anyway, the accusingly behaviour toward Raiden and Cetrion could be just Kuai Liang’s personal dislike for gods and serious authority issues, which makes sense considering how much he suffered because of their meddling and conflicts.

But honestly?

The available examples of Lin Kuei attitude toward gods, demigods and supernatural beings suggest how little the warriors - especially cryomancers - care for them.

Like, we have Bi-Han in Mythologies, who asked Quan Chi about details of mission:

Sub-Zero: If it's so precious, why don't you get it yourself?

Quan Chi: I cannot enter the temple until the four elements within its walls have been defeated. And I am not on the best of terms with the gods of your realm... especially your god of thunder.

Sub-Zero: Tell me about these elements.

Quan Chi outright said he and earthrealm gods weren’t friends and Bi-Han, reading between the lines, could get the idea that he may end on bad terms with Thunder God. Yet he was interested only in elements (lesser gods than protector of realm?) guarding the temple.

Then Bi-Han beat down four demigods and met a displeased Raiden after Quan Chi got the Shinnok Amulet. His reaction? No fear, like meeting an angry god was a normal occurrence.

Rayden: Do you realize what you've done??

Sub-Zero: I was just earning my living.

Rayden: Your clan's ignorance and greed will cost this entire realm. You must now set things straight.

Sub-Zero: Quan Chi could simply be a lunatic sorcerer. I've never heard of an elder god named Shinnok or of a place called the Netherrealm.

Rayden: Well, you'd better start believing in both, because you're going to the Netherrealm and you're going to bring the amulet back. We must act quickly. I have no dominion in the Netherrealm... You are reality's only hope.

Sub-Zero: I'll do it, Thunder God... but only because I have no choice.

And once he came back from Netherrealm, where he was fixing what he messed up in the first place on Raiden’s order, his abrasive attitude did not change much:

Sub-Zero: Here... the amulet.

Rayden: Impressive, Sub-Zero. Perhaps you will reconcile your reckless past after all.

Sub-Zero: That's it? Not even a thank you?

Of course, to some degree Raiden’s words did have an impact on Bi-Han but even the god’s warning about his soul tainted with evil did not stop him from coming back to Lin Kuei. Bi-Han’s attitude and/or approach to gods seems to change somehow once he was reborn as Noob, but that is a different matter for different times.

Anyway, Mythologies!Bi-Han and MK11!Noob act less aggressive toward gods than Kuai Liang. But then we have Sub-Zero from from the MK novel by Jeff Rovin, who not only is not afraid of gods but outright insult them:

“Wait! Be warned, Shang Tsung. He is cursed!”

“Cursed? By whom?”

Ruthay wailed, “By the immortal Yu.”

Shang Tsung felt cold spiders crawl up his spine. “The demigod Yu?”

“Yes… he who is said to dwell in the underground caverns of Horse Ear Mountain… which is sacred to the goddess Kuan Lin. He who protects the canals… and the tunnels… and looks after all who use them, human and animal.”

“What did our brash friend do to Yu?”

“He… killed a man,” said Ruthay.

“What man?”

“A toll-taker… one who had given up a life of crime… one who had been a partner of the man… you… seek.”

“And how did that crime come to the attention of the spirit of Yu?” Shang Tsung asked.

“The man was killed… slowly disemboweled with a sword… while accomplices forced his wife and his son to look on! After his murder… the man’s remains… were dumped into a canal!”

Shang Tsung raised an eyebrow. “Is that all? I was expecting something truly terrible!”

“It was!” Ruthay shrieked. “When he disposed of the body… in that way … he profaned one of the sacred waterways… of Yu!”

Shang Tsung smiled now. “Then he is definitely the man I want,” he said. “Anyone who is impudent enough to insult a demigod won’t be afraid to attack a member of the White Lotus Society, or the gods who watch after them. I will send Hamachi, Ruthay. When he nears his goal, see through his eyes and guide him!”

Book!Sub-Zero was impudent enough to insult a demigod which is why he was one of Shang Tsung’s favorites. And to be clear - book!Sub-Zero did not regret insulting the demigod at all. Even more! He found humor in it!:

He dwelt in a cave two hundred feet up the face of a cliff by the sea. The mouth of his home was barely wide enough to accommodate a slender adult, and was accessible only by climbing the sheer wall of rock, a feat that was impossible for most adults and daunting even to the few arachnids and marsupials that tried it.

Maybe some of them were even sent by Yu, he thought with a smirk, little assassins who would chastise me for having spilled blood in his precious canal.

The less abrasive attitude toward gods was shown by Cyrax, who talked a bit with Raiden over Bi-Han’s remains. He wasn’t outright antagonistic but wasn’t overall respectful either. He talked with Thunder God like he would talk with any other human being that wasn’t actually Scorpion. Frankly, from the named Lin Kuei only MK9!Smoke actually addressed Raiden in respectful manner, with proper bow and the name of lord

albeit did he do so because he respects the divine beings or just out of gratitude for saving him, hard to tell for sure.

So yeah, it seems like no matter what kind of timeline or age or medium of the story, Lin Kuei does not fear gods nor pray to them. And the clan has a long history of dealing with Raiden, so the Lin Kuei had first-hand experiences with supernatural beings. Somehow, cryomancers are the most impudent warriors when it comes to dealing with or criticizing the gods.

Interestingly, as much as Lin Kuei warriors don’t care for gods, most of the known to us named characters believe to have - and to care - for their own souls. Sektor and MK11!Frost embraced the Cyber Lin Kuei idea but Kuai Liang, Cyrax and Smoke were opposed to C.I. project out for concern for their souls among other things. Even Bi-Han, to some degree became concerned about his soul after trip to Netherrealm.

Believing in souls is usually a sign of belief in the afterlife, albeit after all of them went through (the change into cyborgs, death and change into Revenants) this is less a matter of faith (religion) and more first-hand experiences. And let's not forget that regularly dealing over the centuries with Shang Tsung who steals people's souls on a daily basis makes it really hard to not believe spirits are real.

Also, an interesting matter of Lin Kuei practices that could have a religious/spiritual ground and/or be an example of ancestor worship is the clan’s funeral rites. I don’t think we actually saw any Lin Kuei to bury their own (especially after warrior’s failure?) and for sure MK9!Cyrax and Sektor did not bother to take care of Bi-Han’s remains. However the sources provide examples of Lin Kuei keeping corpses, most likely of their own leaders or warriors.

And so, we could see human remains:

put in two coffins on each side of statue

hidden / kept in a block of ice(?) in chamber of Fallen Lin Kuei in which Frost’s frozen body was also laid, but on the altar

Cyrax’s cyber body was kept and guarded by Sub-Zero (and this is like the only thing that Kuai Liang and Cyber Sektor so far agreed on)

and even Cyber Sektor’s remains, even if just for pragmatic reasons, are kept in what seems to be respectful manner:

It could be just Kuai Liang’s good nature to honor fallen of his clan (I’m still not sure if Lin Kuei Palace is the new place for Sub-Zero’s clan or the ancient hideout) but even in MK Conquest TV series, after Grandmaster was killed by then-currently-Sub-Zero, there was the farewell ceremony with clothes on display (cause there was not much left of body after freezing and shattering) while new leader gave the speech promising to punish the guilty.

Which makes me think that Lin Kuei did honor their fallen warriors (especially those exceptional, deserving). Such custom and apparently common belief in soul could also support the ancestor worship - both as some ancient, mythical ancestor(s) connecting warriors into one clan (family) and tradition to follow in the footsteps of forefathers (Bi-Han taking place of his father [old timeline] or grandfather [current timeline] or Kuai Liang taking Bi-Han’s place as Sub-Zero).

My general conclusion about Lin Kuei is that its members believe in souls, have respect and use of spiritual matters (meditation?) and maybe ancestor worship. Whatever the religious / spiritual practices they have over the centuries, it is not something they will share, as the Lin Kuei by nature are secretive people who keep personal things mostly for themselves. The people that joined the clan (Cyrax and Smoke) maybe kept their old, eventual religious beliefs but overall, Lin Kuei warriors did not fear, care for nor pray to gods. They may respect god (Raiden, Fujin) as a person but not because of their divine nature. And even that would not stop them from criticizing said god. Which is pretty much how Kuai Liang and Raiden’s relationship looks like. Grandmaster is grateful to Thunder God for saving him but he won’t blindly follow his authority.

(Kuai Liang has serious authority issues, hasn't he?)

As for holidays, I can’t really see Lin Kuei to follow any specific religious (theistic) special day cause they don’t care much for gods in the first place. Unless they worked undercover and needed to act as normal human beings, religious holidays would mean nothing to them. The warriors may however celebrate their mission success, combat mastery or promotion between themselves or in secret, I think. Like, Lin Kuei did forbid friendship because it was considered warrior’s flaw yet we know some members either were blood-related (Kuai Liang, Bi-Han, previous Sub-Zero - father or grandfather, depending on which timeline is correct) or considered each other a family (Kuai Liang and Tomas Vrbada) and most named characters worked in duos so they have both opportunity and knowledge about each other to celebrate important matters. If they managed to remember anything from previous life, that is. Because from ancient to at least Great Kung Lao’s times most(?) adepts were kidnapped from biological families at a really young age (something around 6 years old). And Mythologies: Sub-Zero takes that even further:

Its warriors are chosen at birth to be raised apart from the workings of day to day civilization and are stripped of their former lives. Only the clan knows their existence. Each of them posses certain skills and abilities that set them apart from normal men. These abilities are passed on from generation to generation and honed throughout the experiences of life.

So, celebrating birthdays doesn’t sound like happening much, unless those with family around could allow themselves such luxury. The clan may however celebrate the day of becoming a fully trained and sworn warrior? Or the fallen warriors? Who knows.

Also, something worth thinking about: in Mortal Kombat Conquest TV series, when the Grandmaster presented newly appointed Sub-Zero to the rest of the clan, he “celebrated” the cryomancer's first official performance as the execution of two men who failed their mission. So, yeah, celebration of something special in (old) Lin Kuei does not necessarily mean anything nice.

(The next part of answer most likely will be focused either on food or architecture / origin of Lin Kuei. Let's hope I will get it written sooner than later)

<><> EDIT <><>

RELIGION <> ORIGINS / ARCHITECTURE <> FOOD <> FOR THE LIN KUEI <> ART <> CRYOMANCERS <> LIN KUEI SOCIETY <> MONEY & MATERIAL GOODS

[rosachaotic]

Amortentia (Talbott x Cereza)

(sorry for my bad English and idk if i will make a part 2 but here)

"What is inside that big cauldron?" Asked Cereza, staring at the giant cauldron that was in the middle of the classroom. She couldn’t see what it was from a distance, but she could see that it had a shiny pink liquid inside.

It is Valentine's Day at Hogwarts and teachers were giving students thematic classes related to the day as a way to celebrate, but still teach their students.

Cereza is now in potions class and to everyone's surprise even Snape prepared a special class for that day. The room had a couple of ravenclaw and hufflepuff students from the fifth year who were whispering about what the potions themed class would be like.

"I don't know, I can't really see what's in the cauldron from here, but I have a feeling that we will know now." Whispered Rowan who sat next to Cereza staring at professor Snape.

As soon as Snape stopped next to the cauldron, all the students got silent, paying attention to the class.

"Today we are going to study Love Potions, brews which manufacture infatuation." With those words, some of the students, including Rowan and Penny who was also in that class, opened their eyes wide, realizing what is really inside that cauldron. "Love potions are strictly prohibited at hogwarts. Unfortunately, Valentine's Day inspires the most foolish wizards and witches to experiment with such potions ..."

The students noticed a certain irritation in Snape's voice as he talked about the use of this potion.

"Which brings me to what's in that cauldron. Amortentia." Snape then turned his gaze to the cauldron, some students tried to peek into the cauldron still sitting in their seats.

"I don't expect any of you to know, but does anyone know the exact description of the love potion?"

Penny, who is sitting close to Cereza and Rowan, is obviously the first to raise her hand and Snape looked at her direction .

"Yes, Miss Haywood?"

"Amortentia is one of the most powerful and dangerous potions in the wizarding world. As powerful as it is, it cannot create or imitate true love. The person under the effect of this potion would only create an unhealthy obsession with its provider. Amortentia also has a different smell for each person, according to what or who attracts them. " Penny replied confidently.

"5 points for Hufflepuff." Penny smiles proudly when she hears these words come out of Snape's mouth, even though he didn't seem very happy or proud of his student. Snape continued with the class.

"Amortentia is extremely powerful, dangerous and must be continuously administered in order for the effect to be maintained. And those who are conceived under the influence of amortentia are cursed with the inability to love."

Cereza then raises her hand with a confused look on her face, Snape notices the young hufflepuff raising her hand.

"Yes, Miss Gomez?"

"Professor Snape, if this potion is so dangerous, why are we going to study?" Asks Cereza.

"It is exactly because it is dangerous that you will study. So that you can study its appearance and keep it in your memory. That way, you may recognize and avoid drinking the potion if someone offers it to you." Said Snape answering Cereza's question.

Cereza lowers her hand, letting Snape continue his class. She shivers with the thought that someone might try to offer something so dangerous for her on Valentine's Day, she will certainly be more careful before drinking anything today.

"Now you can approach the cauldron, carefully." The students were nervous and some were shocked to hear Snape's request, but they all got up from their seats and walked towards the cauldron.

Upon reaching the cauldron, Cereza could see the appearance of the potion properly but she also noticed the smell. Penny said it is different from person to person so the fragrance for Cereza was ... good.

The first thing she could smell reminded her of her old home, it is the fragrance of the field that brought back memories of her childhood. The second one is strawberry, her favorite fruit. The third one...

Cereza frowns as she tries to identify it, it is not bad but is odd. It is straw, she doesn't know how she knew it, but the smell of straw it is the same one from the owlery and also from…

Cereza then realizes who this smell is from and she feels her face heat up, she shook her head trying to ignore the strong odor coming from the potion and also tries to hide her face and nose in her scarf to hide her pink cheeks. She remembers what Penny said about amortentia also being not only from things but it could be also from someone they are attracted to and Cereza knew exactly from who that scent was from.

It is from Talbott, Talbott spends a lot of time in the owlery so it's normal for him to have that smel. Talbott is the lonely Ravenclaw with whom Cereza managed to get close after he helped her not only to become an animagus but also with her self-confidence with her eyes. The two are now best friends for a year and are very close to each other but she admits that during this time she started to develop romantic feelings for Talbott, but she doesn't want to ruin this friendship by a feeling that Talbott may not reciprocate so she just ignores this feeling.

Cereza looks to her side and realized that Penny or Rowan weren't with her, but the devil himself: Talbott winger.

She realizes Talbott is staring at the cauldron lost in his thoughts, he is taking deep and slowly breaths seeming to be trying to recognize aroma like the rest of the class.

He looks really focused.

"I wonder what the amortentia smells like for him." She thought while staring at the ravenclaw that is beside her.

Cereza then notices that Talbott's expression changed to a surprised expression. The young man's eyes widened, his mouth was slightly open and it was possible to see that even his ears were so red that it looked like smoke was going to come out of it.

"Talbott?" Whispered Cereza trying to get the boy's attention.

Talbott let out a gasp in surprise when he hears Cereza's voice beside him and looks at her. Cereza smiles kindly at him but she notices that his breathing is getting faster, his hands are shaking a little and his face turned redder than before. Concerned, Cereza got a little closer to him.

"Talbott are ok-" Before she could finish her sentence, Talbott quickly backed away from her and bumps into Penny who was beside him that made her look in his direction and notice what was going on.

But before Penny could ask what was wrong, Talbott walked past the students who were around them quickly and ran out of the classroom. Not even Snape managed stop him.

"Talbott wait!" Cereza tries to go after him, but she is stopped by Snape who closed the door on her with a spell before she could leave.

"Leave it, Gomez." Snape said in his dry voice.

"But-"

"I said, leave it."

Cereza sighs in defeat. She looks at Penny, who is worried about Talbott and then at Rowan who is lost in this whole situation. She approached the cauldron again and continued in class, but she kept thinking about what just happened and is worried for her friend but she couldn't do anything about it until the class ended.

After class was over, Cereza went looking for Talbott with Penny's help, but they didn't find him. It was as if he was hiding from everyone or maybe just from Cereza. They didn’t even find him in the owlery which was very odd.

"Maybe the amortentia made him feel sick…?" Cereza thought to herself.

[karatam]

Dani x Jamie headcanons

sarah--tonin asked:

what are some of your favorite bly manor and/or hill hosue headcanons? (i love reading other people's hc's haha)

lol I don’t even know where to start tbh

a lot of my best ones have been sent to novel_concepts as prompts and used in discussion of prompts, so you can see echoes of my headcanons in some of her fic

warning, a bunch of these are sad and I can’t divulge some bc they might actually be used soon-ish

1. a particular fave of mine, Jamie taking photos of Dani (knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that someday this might be all she has left of Dani)

Like, there are the group photos (faces smushed together with friends and smiling widely), there are a few more formal ones for like passports and events (shoulders back and smiles a little stiff, bodies positioned a little further apart than usual), there are touristy ones (sunglasses on and arms spread open wide in front of the Eiffel Tower, at the Grand Canyon, at the Empire State Building)

And then there are these ones. Ones that no one but Jamie has ever seen (Dani gets a little embarrassed and doesn't want to look). Ones that show the dark smoky look Dani gets sometimes late at night after a glass of wine. Ones that show the constellation of freckles along her shoulder blades. Ones that show her lips a little wet and swollen from kisses. Ones that show the Dani that is just for Jamie

2. Jamie is terrible at math. This is connected to my “Dani does the taxes and all accounting” headcanon

Dani has a will all written out that she updates at least once a year.  She ducks from Jamie's notice to go and visit a lawyer or notary every few months. She mentioned it once and the look on Jamie's face broke her heart, so she kind of did it in secret from then on.  Dani has always been the one to handle their books, so she just sometimes says she's visiting their accountant and Jamie lets her keep up the pretense

A grieving Jamie having to file their taxes, blinking back the tears at just how often "Danielle Clayton" appears on all the paperwork, her loopy signature at the end of every document

alternately, a frantic Jamie calling up Owen like "I'm doing our taxes and we either owe the government a million dollars or possibly they owe us half a million dollars, and neither of those seem right but I hate math"

3. Jamie nearly kills her plants after Dani is taken

it's thanks to Owen that the plants survive for the first time in her adult life, Jamie cannot bring herself to care for all the plants growing in their apartment or store. the dark earth feels like it's a dark stain on her skin, the edges of leaves like sharp razors, the fragrant blooms nauseating

she doesn't touch the watering can, doesn't tend to brittle roots, doesn't trim overgrowing branches

she just lets it all go, because Dani, her moonflower, is gone and never coming back and this is all Jamie has to show for it and it's not enough

Owen walks in to see that carefully tended engagement plant spilt on the ground in a broken pot by the door, Jamie sobbing in the bedroom. He carefully picks it up and places it in a bowl on the kitchen table, scooping the soil in with his hands.

4. Jamie never sees a ghost (barring Hannah), but she spends the rest of her life searching for one

5. Dani being unable to control herself while Jamie is in fix-it mode

the jeep conks out somewhere in Colorado and Jamie goes to work on the engine on the side of the road, sleeves shoved up to her elbows, tendons and muscles in her forearms standing out in sharp relief as she gets to work. Dani is only able to watch this for maybe 15 minutes before she grabs Jamie and pulls her (only slightly protesting) into the back seat. Dani ends up with grease stains all up her thighs and back, but it was totally worth it

you’re all very welcome for prompting that 5 things fic of novel’s

6. Dani was subconsciously waiting for their relationship to be legally recognized so that if she dies, Jamie will be known legally as her wife and all that entails

7. Jamie has tattoos (I’ve posted this before)

She has flowers mostly.

A edelweiss bloom (courage, devotion) on her left bicep, the first type of flower she cultivated in her prison work term.

A sprig of bluebells (constancy) on her right ankle, like the ones that used to grow outside her childhood home, the one spot of beauty she can remember.

A daffodil (rebirth) on her forearm that she got when she got out, symbolizing a kind of rebirth.

An ever growing vine of climbing roses up her back, a new bloom added whenever someone manages to sneak into her heart. last count was 7: five pink (happiness), one a dark crimson (mourning) and one a vibrant red (love)

And then, delicate on her wrist, a white moonflower

I think she gets the moonflower while Dani is with her, and Dani is constantly tracing its shape with her fingertips, often without even noticing, and it makes Jamie’s heart clench a little bit in her chest every time

After, she lines the red rose with dark crimson, but doesn’t fill it in all the way. because for as much as she mourns, she also still loves

8. Dani realizing she likes hickeys

with Eddie it always felt like a mark of possession, of something he wanted displayed to the rest of the world to show his ownership of her. and she didn't even enjoy the process of him giving her hickeys, it just kind of hurt a bit

but now, as she wakes up and sees a faint red mark below her jaw, she can't help but smile as she remembers exactly how Jamie was losing control when she bit down a little harder than usual

again, just read novel’s fic, it’s so good

9. Complete crack: they meet at a D&D game.

Jamie is the reluctant DM (she says reluctant, but she also has multiple maps drawn out already), Owen the cleric, Hannah the ranger, Flora the sorcerer, Miles the wizard, Henry is a barbarian and has no idea how to play, Rebecca the warlock. Dani joins when invited by Flora (her favourite student) and decides to be a paladin.

10. Why they don’t get a pet

Jamie's greatest fear is a cat getting into their apartment and then slowly and meaningfully knocking every single potted plant off its shelf/table/ledge and onto the floor, all while making direct eye contact with Jamie

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 2/5

“Without you around, it’s sorta like stuff is just kinda…bleh.“

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Yusuke wasn’t too sure if what he was doing was of the right mind, but his heart is definitely in the right place.

There’s a lapse in time between Jails and hitting the road. Everyone is out soaking in the last of Sendai; Ryuji and Akira (and by extension, Sophia) are on a quest to buy any last minute supplies that they might need while the girls and Morgana are taking in the sights that they didn’t quite manage to explore as much as they’d like.

Well, the girls who like crowds and sightseeing are on a quest, at least.

Futaba and Yusuke are in the trailer by their own volition—he didn’t need to see anything else that wasn’t a timeless statue, and he learned early in his life that if you pace your spendings, you can then use that money to spend in the future. Quite the contrary, Futaba has had a little too much excitement these past few days and is more than happy to hide away in her top bunk with only her laptop charger peeking out from the bottom of her fleece blanket.

(A cartoon rendition of the Sendai temple is printed onto the fleece. Apparently Haru had yet to see Futaba purchase anything ‘tourist-y’ and action figures of various anime characters don’t seem to count.)

He tugs on her laptop cord. “Hello.”

“...What?” she grunts, voice slightly muffled. Through the thin fabric, he can see the illumination from her screen.

“I need help reacting to something.”

“And you decided to ask me?” she deadpans. “The literal shut-in?”

“The previous shut-in,” he corrects. “You haven’t been a shut-in in nearly a year. A marvelous feat, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, and this is my way of celebrating.” The lump on the bed seems to curl further in on itself. “Begone. Do a painting or something. This is my me time. The equivalent of guzzling down a boat load of Arginade. There’s barely any time to be by myself considering the whole group is treating this RV like a pimped out party bus, so shoo.”

J-pop starts playing from inside the blanket fort, and even Yusuke knows a dismissal when he hears one. That won’t stop him, though.

He tugs again, harder. “That is the reason I’m asking you now. I can’t have this be heard by prying ears.”

Had there been a cat on the bunk bed, its ears would have twitched. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” he nods sagely. “It’s a secret.”

Futaba’s head pops out, eyes wide and nearly glowing in excitement. If there was one thing that she liked more than recovering her energy, it's uncovering every nook and cranny of people’s lives, whether they want it or not.

“Inari, you should’ve said something!” She throws the blanket off herself, snatches her laptop in her arms and jumps down. Slamming it down on the booth, she throws herself on top of the smooth faux leather. “Tell me everything. The deets, the specs, all down to the last dirty drop of tea.”

He slides in to join her, albeit much slower. “Before you tell me that I misled you, I want to make it clear: I don’t know what the secret is.”

“What!” she slaps her forehead, groaning. “Yusuke, why would you do me like that? That’s false advertising to the max, and I do not appreciate you tricking me.”

“There wasn’t a trace of trickery. What I’m about to say really does have to do with a secret, but I need your help with how to deal with it.”

“I’m gonna level with you here pal,” she puts a hand on his wrist. “I’m not the right person for this, but I’d be darned if I let you walk away without telling me anything. So let’s hear it! I’m ready for some juicy goss. Oh! Can I guess? Is it about Haru?”

He frowns. “No. Is there something about Haru?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I was asking you!” she says, patting her hands rapidly on the table. “Come on, just spill the beans already.”

“There are no ‘beans’ to spill yet, and besides, that sounds like a waste of perfectly good food.” He leans back against the plush cushion. Only a pinch of guilt arises in him as he says it. “It’s about Ryuji.”

“Ooo, Skull himself. Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting him.”

“It relieves me that you said that. I share the same sentiment—it wasn’t until I had run into him the night before when I had started to truly suspect something. And what I found was…” he trails off.

Her lips pull downwards. “That bad?”

“It was worrying, to say the least.”

She sighs. Most of the energy in her seemed to have filed out in the presence of a more serious topic. “Dang. I knew it was fishy when he left, but he’s always been able to just hash things out on his own.” Her expression changes as an idea pops into her head, and it morphs into one he recognizes. “Does—?”

“No. Akira doesn’t know, apparently.”

Futaba splutters, and he has to resist the urge to nod his head at her reaction. “He—Akira—wait, what? He doesn’t know? Oh, it must be bad bad.”

“My thoughts exactly. Initially, I had thought that whatever this was, it was manageable. Like that time he had spent his month’s allowance on a claw machine to win Makoto that light-up buchimaru.” Idly, he touches her keyboard lightly, appreciating the kaleidoscope of colors that emanate from it. “You know how I feel. We’re the Phantom Thieves; we can’t allow anyone to suffer alone, even if the one we’re helping is a Phantom Thief himself.”

Futaba raises an eyebrow. “And how do you want to help him?” she asks. “By talking to him? Let’s be real, you and I have the lowest social stat in this group. Combined, we can maybe reach the nerd student council president, and the guy who can and should handle this doesn’t even know about it!” Biting down on her lip, “Should we tell Akira?”

“Absolutely not. That was the one thing he had requested, and we cannot go against it. By extension, I don’t think we should tell anyone else.” A thought comes to him. “Wait, he mentioned that Ann knows of his situation.”

“Great! Someone who knows how to deal with people’s problems and isn’t us. What are we waiting for?” She reaches for her phone, and Yusuke proceeds to smack her hand out of the way. “Ow?”

“Don’t call her!” he hisses. “Ryuji said that she’s, and I quote, ‘part of the problem’. We can’t have her knowing that we know something.”

“Ann is?” Futaba exclaims, shoving her glasses up her nose. “This is getting too deep. We don’t even know anything yet, and it’s really starting to feel like we’re part of some conspiracy.”

“That’s right, we don’t know anything, and it is our largest road block.” Yusuke crosses his arms. “We don’t know what happened between Ryuji and Ann, or if something even occurred between Ryuji and Ann. What if they had an argument? What if they’re fighting, and it becomes irreparable between them? What if it begins affecting our Jail runs?”

“You really gave this some thought, huh?”

“But of course. I must nurture the few friends that I have managed to treasure.” He glances outside and sees the crowds clambering to see their tourist spot. “We may be different from most teenagers, but I don’t believe we’re immune to the nature of cliques or dramas or even insecurities.”

“God, what a good friend you are, it’s bugging me,” Futaba accuses. “So what the heck, Mr. Philanthropist? We’re stuck between a rock and our friend group here. This mission was doomed before you even dragged me out from my hideout,” she says, eyes drifting away to stare longingly back at her bunk bed.

“Stop making that expression. There’s a reason why I talked to you about this.” He leans forward. “What I’m asking is, to be frank, unfavorable, but I really do believe that it’s worth it to do this.”

She looks at him, and it only takes her a few seconds for realization to set in. Her jaw drops. “Oh Inari, that’s vile.”

“If you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“I didn’t say I was uncomfortable with it,” she cuts in. The grin on her face is wide; a woman in her element. “I just thought you’re the one who’d be all against this kind of thing.”

Futaba pulls her laptop towards her. “Sit back and observe the master at work.”

He watches as her fingers breeze through the keyboard, eyes inscrutable as light reflects off of her glasses. “So you can do it?”

“I’ve hacked into the Diet Building’s security cameras on a dare back when I was twelve,” she snorts. “This is Mario Kart Baby Park with the railings up.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It means—” With a flourish, she hits a key before glancing up at him, smug. “That this will be very easy. I’m thinking we can start with their text messages and work our way up to the big stuff.”

“Oh, right. You can go through our phones,” he grimaces. “You’ve stopped doing that, yes?”

“Of course I have! By the way, did you figure out what courses you wanted next term? I saw your advisor was bugging you about it, you should really email her back.”

“Yes, I’ve finally decided on sculpting as opposed to visual photography since it lets me focus on the anatomy of...” he pauses. “Wait—”

“Okay, looks like I got his text messages with Ann, so let’s all focus on this now!” she says loudly. “Scooch over, let’s go through ‘em.”

He does, and she moves to sit next to him. Yusuke peers at her screen. “Nothing out of the ordinary. There is a significant drop in the frequency of his replies, but that’s been the case for me as well.”

“Same here.” She continues scrolling up rapidly, so fast he wonders how she can keep up with herself. “Memes, memes, lots of ‘where you at’ texts, more memes…”

Something catches his eye. “Hold. Go down slightly, I think that link might be interesting.”

“‘How to treat knee pain: 11 steps with pictures’?” she reads aloud. “His knee is acting up again?”

“What’s peculiar is that I haven’t seen any sign of it.” He squints at Ryuji’s response to it—generic gratitude. “Even in Jails, he runs around without a care in the world.”

“What’s even weirder is that Ann is actually sending Ryuji wikihow links on how to treat his knee,” she snorts. “Let’s put a pin in this one and move on, Ann’s chat is chalking up to be a dead end.”

Rubbing her hands together, she straightens up like a professor in front of a lecture hall on the first day of classes. “Now Yusuke, when you’re looking to crack someone open like a tasty, moist omelette, there are two things that you must look into: their email and their bank account.”

After some clicking, Ryuji’s email pops up. “Email is obvious, since this pretty much tracks anything big. Delivery shipments, subscriptions to websites, acceptance letters. It’s all here in a neat little bow, ready for us to read.”

“‘Manga’s are 20% off for this weekend only,” he reads. “‘Anime convention next weekend’, ‘Pizza coupons’.”

“Ugh, he’s so boring! Next!” Clicking sounds through the RV, emphasizing how much they were snooping through their friend’s private life. “Bank account, show us your wisdom.”

“My word,” Yusuke gasps when the tab opens up. “That’s quite a lot of funds.”

“Inari, four thousand yen is definitely not a lot of money. How much do you have in yours?”

“I don’t have an account,” he admits. “I was on my way to the bank to open one, but I ran out of train fare. By the time I had gotten there, it was already closed. Quite rude, considering that it was only two o’clock.”

She levels him with a look. “Was it a Sunday when you did all this?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Never mind,” she shakes her head. “Okay, so nothing conclusive or even embarrassing. That means that whatever this is, he really doesn’t want anyone knowing about it.”

Futaba hops out of the booth and starts rummaging through everyone’s luggage. “That means we unlock the secret, classic, never goes out of style method of snooping—” with an expression of triumph, she showcases Ryuji’s backpack to him. “Going through their stuff IRL.”

Yusuke winces. “Don’t you think we might be going too far?”

“Hey, what’s with the cold feet? Where was your ‘justice’ from before?”

“I’m all for justice,” he watches her unzip the backpack, recoiling. “But even this seems a little excessive.”

“Look, we already went through his email, his bank account, his text messages. At this point, it’s kind of weird if we don’t find anything. Like—” she throws a pair of shorts behind her as she rummages. “What kind of teenage boy doesn’t have anything to hide? And also, it’d be kinda messed up to go through his stuff and come up empty-handed. If we didn’t find anything—” she pulls out several t-shirts and a crowbar and places them on the ground next to her. “Then we’d just be a bunch of snoops.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he reluctantly agrees. “Above all else, we need to find out what’s happened in his life to make him so upset.”

“Exactly. Oh man, wouldn’t it be crazy if we just found some porn mags or something? Retro to the max, but I can totally see him as the kind of guy to lug something like that along. Unless it’s of Akira.” She makes a face. “Ew. Funny thought is no longer funny.”

“Karma, if you will.”

“Shut it. Oh ho ho, what do we have here?”

“You found something?”

“It’s some fancy looking letter.” Futaba flops herself on the ground. She clears her throat. “'Sakamoto Ryuji. This letter is to inform you that…'” she stops all of a sudden.

“Futaba?” he probes.

“Um,” she blinks, and laughs nervously. “Um?”

He reaches over, and she doesn’t resist when it slips out of her hands. Skimming through the letter, only his eyes dare to move. When he finishes, he lets out a breath. “Oh no.”

“We shouldn't've read that,” she whispers, a perfect summation of what he was feeling. “We really should not have read that.”

—

There’s something to be said about the quayside in Sendai, in the way that it’s almost exactly like Tokyo.

Sure, the buildings here are definitely shorter—gone are the towering structures back home, and instead they’re replaced with shorter structures with cute local designs and colorful patio restaurants. The people here are different, too. Maybe it’s something to do with the water here, in how it’s cleaner and how you can actually see some fish down in the canals if you know where to look. Don’t even get him started in the air; jeez, do they infuse the oxygen here with something? He hasn’t stopped taking deep breaths ever since they got here.

But despite all of those discrepancies, the feeling of Akira’s hand in his is just like being home.

“And it’s actually really interesting,” he hears vaguely. “Because back in Leblanc, there used to be a couple issues about the temperature and stuff, but in my hometown there’s…Ryuji? Are you even listening to me?“

Akira’s telling him something. A story about Morgana? And Ryuji’s sure it’s very interesting, but he’s too focused on the way that sunlight hits his cheekbones.

“I’m listening,” he lies. “Keep going. This is just my listening face, I promise.”

“Sure, sure,” Akira agrees easily. “That’s just your listening face, rather than me and my wicked good looks, right? I totally believe you.” He wiggles his fingers. “Give.”

Ryuji offers him the caramel ice cream cone in his other hand, letting him bite into it like some kind of psychopath. “Done?” he asks, shifting the tote bag tucked into the crook of his elbow, careful not to rattle the eggs inside. Akira bravely offered to carry the groceries, but he had obviously refused.

“Mmm. That’s good stuff.”

“Right? I read about the ice cream here when I was younger, and they were really hyping it up on the ad.” He takes a lick, grinning when the taste hits his tongue. “And on a summer day like this? Unbeatable. It’s really reminding me of last summer when we hung out everyday in your room eating crap, taking naps, and playing games.” It also helped that hanging out with his crush was a daily thing, he thought.

“And I got to hangout with my crush a lot too, so that’s always a plus,” Akira adds.

Ryuji stops, and Akira turns around to give him a weird look. “What?”

“You get me,” he says in awe.

“I sure hope so,” he tugs him forward, and they continue their walk, their shoes rhythmically landing on the wood in unison. A comfortable silence takes over, but that’s no good. Ryuji wants to hear him talk.

“So imagine you get ten million yen,” he starts. “What do you do with it?”

It’s not the first time he’s asked this. They discuss it often, eagerly like the dreaming boys they both are. Akira considers it and Ryuji loves that about him. It doesn’t matter how stupid his questions are—he will always answer them with as if it were a serious question.

“For starters, Yusuke’s getting a place as soon as possible.”

“Duh,” he snorts. “Apparently, his roommate brought someone back to hook up with them. Poor guy got so traumatized he slept over at Haru’s.”

“We should be glad that he didn’t ask them for poses,” Akira laughs. “Next, I’m making sure that Sojiro has enough for retirement.”

“Obviously. Rest in peace Leblanc—you make fire coffee, but no one’s there to drink it.”

“And then I’m making sure your mom has the funds for retirement for sure.”

“I love you,” he sighs.

“I know.” Akira starts swinging their hands back and forth. “Then with the rest, I’ll buy us some new shoes for when we start training again together, and whatever’s left we can split it up with the rest of the Thieves and they can do what they want with it.”

“I bet Ann would go on a shopping spree in France,” he says.

“Haru would probably donate hers.”

“Makoto’s is going straight into university. I can see her going in to get a Masters with that kind of money.”

Ryuji refuses to let his expression fall. “That’s her. Big bookworm with a capital B.” Stop talking about this, stop talking about this. “How about you, Sophia? Any clue what you’ll do with a boatful of moolah?”

A harmonic beep rings through the air and Akira passes her over to him. “I would invest in cryptocurrency and turn ten million into one hundred million,” she says cheerfully. “Then I would take that hundred million and turn it into one billion yen.”

Ryuji coughs, sliding her into his back pocket. “You know what? That’s my bad. I should’ve expected that, honestly.”

Akira plucks the remainder of their ice cream cone from his hand and throws it in his mouth, munching. Wordlessly, he takes out a pack of wet-wipes from his pockets and hands it to Ryuji.

“Thanks.” Reluctantly dropping his hand, he thoroughly cleans through his sticky fingers. “You didn’t ask me what I was gonna do with my money.”

He nods in a go ahead way.

“After I give most of it to my mom, I was just gonna give the rest to you.” Ryuji kicks a stray pebble. It skirts off the edge of the boardwalk. There’s a tug on his arm. “Yeah?”

Akira covers his mouth with a hand, before making an incomprehensible garble of noise.

“Huh? My bad, I didn’t catch that.”

A few seconds of vigorous chewing, he swallows. “I said,” Akira says, eyes glimmering the way it does when he gets really excited. “I was going to do the exact same thing.”

“Dude!” Ryuji throws his arm around his shoulders, tugging him in close. “You understand me like no one else does. What the eff!”

“I’m glad,” he says softly. Wrapping his arm around him, Ryuji blinks at the unexpected hug. “It’s nice that we're on the same wavelength.”

Suspicion tingles across Ryuji’s skin. “Hold up.” Pulling away, he squints his eyes at him. “No.”

Akira immediately looks to the side. “What?” he says, defensive. “It’s nothing.”

“No freaking way.”

“I think I saw a cool arcade back there, it has cool prizes that I think you’d like, and—“

“Kurusu Akira,” he says sternly, grabbing his face between his hands. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous.”

“I’m not!” he insists, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “I’m not, you know I’m not that type of guy.”

“But?” Ryuji prompts.

“But…” he hesitates. “I’d be happy for you, if you find that it’s easier to talk to other people that aren’t me.” Akira straightens up, pulling out of Ryuji’s grasp but inspects his hand like it were something to be studied. How strange it was to see his long, elegant fingers grasp his brutish, blistered ones. “I’m relieved that I didn’t leave you alone. I just...miss being your go-to, I think.”

“Akira.” He says slowly. “My man. The love of my fucking life. You are never not gonna be my go-to. You’re my go-one.” Rapping his knuckles against Akira’s temple carefully, “Your hometown is messing with you up here, making you say weird shit like that.”

“I know, I know.” Running his index finger down his wrist, Ryuji can feel how cold he is. “You knew what you were getting into when you started dating an overthinker.”

“As a chronic underthinker, no, I did not.” He kisses Akira’s palm. “But it works out, so it’s all good.”

Turning them both around, Ryuji starts walking. “I know this is super duper impossible for a guy like you, but I’m gonna have to ask you for a favor.”

“Anything.”

“You have got, to the best of your ability,” he bumps into Akira’s shoulder. “Stop stressing out.”

He frowns. “It’s my job to stress out.”

“It’s our job to stress out,” he corrects. “You and me. Founding Thieves. We share the burden, bro. We got into this together, we’re getting out of it together. That includes you worrying about our relationship outside the ‘Verse, and extend it all the way to what dingy hometown you took the bullet train from.”

“I’ll try,” he says doubtfully. “You’re kind of enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean? No way I can enjoy the most perfect person on the planet be a little jealous over his boyfriend getting attention, what kind of asshole would I be?” And before Akira can say anything, “I know, not jealous, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” he flashes a peace sign.

“I know you know.” A group of middle schoolers pass them, chattering about nothing and pointing out random things on the quay, all enjoying their summer vacation. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?” he asks suddenly.

Unable to help himself, he ruffles Akira’s hair, pitch black and hot to the touch. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I don’t?”

Gray eyes look into his brown ones, earnest and trusting. Just like that, the light feeling in Ryuji’s chest vanishes. “No,” he responds slowly. “You don’t.”

“Good,” Akira nods, and sees where they were heading towards. “Oh, you took that seriously?”

“You bet your crisp ass I did,” he says, pushing the glass door open. The arcade is bright, neon, and littered with claw machines. Add that to the list of similarities from Tokyo. “I don’t fuck around with arcades. I’m in the top hundred players in the Gun Gale in Shinjuku.”

“Was that with Shinya or without?”

“Not important.” He surveys the area. “There it is. Can you grab us some change? I’ll pay you back.”

Akira waves his hand, walking towards the coin machine. “Don’t. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you pay for our dates?”

“A hot one!” he yells. When he turns the corner, Ryuji collapses into a bright red racing chair. “Fuck,” he hisses, heart beating too damn fast for it to be normal. “Chill out, Sakamoto, jesus.”

It only gets worse when a familiar beep rings out. “Ryuji, your heart rate is at 160. Is everything alright?”

“Sophia!” he wheezes out, relieved. “Can you—will—” he stops, scrunching his eyes closed. “I’m having a panic attack, I think.”

“Searching for how to treat panic attacks,” she says immediately, and he sags into the cool plastic gratefully. “Deep breaths will help, slowly to the count of ten.”

His heart is beating so hard that he can barely hear the jingles and the whirrs of the machines around him. “Count out loud. Hurry, before he gets back.”

She does, and he grips the side of the chair as he focuses on breathing. The attack passes by faster than he hoped it would. “Thank god,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

“No prob,” she says, before hesitating. “Akira—”

“Will not know about this,” he cuts her off, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’ll tell him eventually, don’t worry, et cetera. I know all this. Ann’s been hounding me non-freakin’-stop. Just don’t tell him, Soph. Please.”

Before she can say anything, Akira comes back, pockets full of change and that signature small smile resting on his lips.

—

The bright side about missing out on Sapporo’s snow festival is having its tourism as its lowest point when you visit it in the summer.

Even the shopping district just outside Susikino isn’t very crowded; there’s the usual street vendors and shops with bright pastries and cute clothes. But even having it right beside the Sapporo Tower, it’s still nothing uncomfortable. At least, it’s not uncomfortable when you get to observe the environment through a phone lens.

“This is nice, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had much of an opportunity to talk to you yet, which is quite rude of me.”

“No prob,” Sophia replies easily. She was swaying from Haru’s neck, hanging by a silicone phone holder that she had bought from a convenience store. Futaba had guffawed when she saw it, but Sophia’s happy about the purchase. It’s fun, and it lets her people watch from the perspective of one of her friends. “I have been meaning to talk to everyone one by one as to better understand each of you.”

“Oh, good! What better use of a nice chat while doing some shopping along the way?” Haru chirps, thumbing through a rack of out-of-season clearance sweaters as they pass. “I have to admit, I’m not the best when it comes to fashion and whatnot. Most of the time, I ask Ann-chan to accompany me.”

“I can try my best! Online websites are constantly updating in order to provide their readers with the newest trends.” Idly, she takes a peek. “Wide-legged pants are back in style.”

“That’s a relief,” she sighs. “I never pulled off skinny jeans too well. Long, flowy skirts have always been my thing. It just gives off such a nice aesthetic, doesn’t it?”

Sophia smiles. “I think you’d look good in anything. Have you considered going punk? You’d look very dope and intimidating with a black streak in your hair and a leather jacket.”

“Now that I can agree with, but that’s more Mako-chan’s style, I’m afraid.” She pauses. “Actually, I bet Mako-chan would actually like that. Sometimes I feel as though she isn’t willing to branch out of her circle of clothes past a pair of Oxfords and a deep-coloured sweater. A push might be what she needs.”

She considers this. “Is it possible to buy clothes for her? That can be a possible ‘push’, quote unquote.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so. She would never let us do such a thing.”

“One moment.” Pulling out a few files from inside her memory storage, she clears her throat. “According to my data analysis, Niijima Makoto has high difficulty straying away from well-mannered behaviours. Do you think that includes saying no to gifts given to her? That can be advantageous.”

Haru stops walking and pulls the phone up so that they’re at eye-level. “Sophia-chan,” she beams. “I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.”

They continue walking down the street when Haru gasps suddenly. “You literally can’t shop, can you?”

“Of course I can. I can get anything in the world for you,” she says proudly. “Anything.”

“Alright, we’ll have to test that later, but I mean you can’t use what you buy,” she frowns, eyes troubled. “Your sweater is adorable, but you’re forced to wear it everyday, right? Can you even do your hair differently? Is it possible for you to pin it, or even let it down?”

Sophia finds it endearing that she would let such a thing bother her. She doesn’t even have a social insurance number, but Haru’s worried about hair clips. “No, but I quite like it the way it is. It doesn’t get in the way when I do my work, and in the Metaverse, it gets completely hidden as to let me do my fighting,” she explains, karate chopping in her screen. “But I can understand the human desire for change.”

“Would you like that?” Haru asks gently. “To change? Um, change out of your clothes, and change mentally. Either one.”

“Change mentally, of course! I’d love to understand my friends better and understand how to help them. It’s a vast mountain of knowledge, but I’d want nothing more than to decode the mystery of the human heart,” she says eagerly. “But for clothes...I’m not sure. I haven’t tried it. I’m pretty sure I can’t try it.”

“That settles it,” Haru looks both ways before crossing the street, jogging slightly.

Sophia perks up. “If you’re heading somewhere specific, I can give you directions.”

“No need.” She has an intense, hungry look on her face, not unlike the one she had when the new axe Akira bought had finally arrived at their RV. “We’re just about here.”

They stop in front of a store, and she can barely read the sign from the phone’s angle. “‘Case in Point’?”

Haru pushes the glass door open, greeting the cashier. “It’s a phone modifier shop.”

There’s no effort to explain anything else, but Sophia can confidently add ‘anticipation’ onto her growing list of experienced feelings.

—

“Out of curiosity—” Haru begins as they exit the modifier store, the cashier still bug-eyed from the tip she had left at his counter. “Can you see everything inside Akira-kun’s phone?”

“Yes,” she replies. The environment that she lives in, and more specifically, Akira’s phone, is now a bright, perfectly polished shade of rose gold with a mint outline. A far cry from the matte black that it was before. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Her voice is sweet as sugar. “Out of curiosity once again, is there anything interesting? Anything worth noting?”

She jumps as Sophia’s voice suddenly morphs into Akira’s without warning. “Nice try,” the phone plays. “But no.”

And just as quick, Sophia comes back to the phone. “Sorry about leaving,” she says. “Akira had asked me to play that clip if someone ever, and I quote, ‘tried me.’”

Haru giggles. “Just like Akira-kun to be so thorough. Impressive as always, leader.” She peers down at her watch. “I suppose it’s about time to head back, isn’t it?”

“We still have eight minutes to spare.”

“We do. Perhaps we should take a stroll around the park?”

“Cool,” she says. “Wanna ask Futaba and Yusuke if they want to come with?”

“Sure?” Haru blinks. “That’s very specific.”

“On your two o’clock,” she points out. “In front of the book store.”

They watch as Futaba and Yusuke stand across the street from them. Futaba is aggressively pointing her finger at the books on display, then slapping her fist against her palm like she was devising a war strategy. Yusuke shakes his head wildly, comically putting his hands in his pockets and revealing that there was nothing inside. She sighs and walks away, tugging along a dejected boy behind her.

“Aren’t you going to ask them?”

“In a moment.” Haru takes them to the front of the store. “This isn’t a bookstore, I don’t think. What’s it called Sophia?”

After a quick search: “‘Sapporo’s School Supply Store’,” she says. “The alliteration makes it fun to say.”

“Indeed it does.” Peering into the store, Haru makes an introspective noise. “Now isn’t this interesting?” she hums. “Do you mind if I make one more purchase?”

“Not at all,” Sophia says, thrilled to add another point she had learned: If Haru wants something, there’s nothing that will get in her way.

—

“So,” Makoto starts, and Ryuji has to hold back a groan. He knows that tone. He’s memorized that tone. All the second years can feel her tone from a mile away. Hell, Ann probably took an instinctive step back just now. “Have you started to think about university?”

“Nope,” he says, wiping the sweat off his brow as they jog around the corner of Odori park. Back before he had left for his hometown, Akira and Ryuji would be up at dawn to train. Lately though, he’s been using any free time he has that isn’t planning for, prepping for, or actively doing a Jail run to sleep in the RV. And hey, he has no beef with Makoto, and it’s not like she can’t keep up with his training (she can most definitely kick his ass in hand-to hand), but she has a tendency to push when it comes to this sort of stuff. “Not a single thought towards it. It’s been pretty good, actually.”

“I can tell,” she agrees. “It’s almost like you blocked my number.”

“I did not!”

“So you actively choose not to answer any of my texts?”

“Ugh, don’t set me up like that,” he winces. “You know I’m stupid enough to fall for shit like that everytime.”

“Hold on.”

Ryuji grunts as he feels a hold on his shirt, forcing him to stop. “Ew, don’t touch my back, it’s Nigeria there.”

“First of all, it’s Niagara.” She spins him around. He’s only a little taller than her, but something about her always seems to tower over him. “Second, do you know why I keep pushing all of you to go to university?”

“Because you hate us?” he mumbles.

Makoto glares at him. “Try again.”

“...Because you don’t hate us?”

“Because I don’t hate you,” she repeats. “You’re all rowdy and wild and sometimes I don’t understand the jokes you make—”

“You’re just mad ‘cause you fell for a deez nuts joke.”

“But I do, inexplicably, love all of you,” she pushes on, and that shuts him up. “I know what you’re all capable of. Amazing things! I understand you all believe that I’m the be-all end-all, and I appreciate your compliments, but there are some things that only Ann can do, or Akira, or Yusuke.”

Makoto continues running, and he reluctantly follows suit. “And you. You can achieve things that I can’t even dream of, Ryuji.”

He resists the urge to yawn. “Thanks for the pep talk, Niijima.” Looking left, the gelato is looking real good. “Wanna get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“You aren’t very good at hiding secrets, Ryuji.”

Now that grabbed his attention. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, prez!” Speeding past her, he holds out a hand to make her stop. “What do you mean by that?”

She raises a brow. “Nothing in particular, but your reaction is showing me that I should have meant something by it.”

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek roughly. “Okay, but why did that come into your brain? Why do you think I have some kinda secret?”

“I live with a prosecutor everyday of my life, of course I know when something’s afoot.” Pushing her hair back, she squints up at him. “You’ve been more...jumpy lately, yet somehow more laid-back than usual. I wanted to talk to Akira about this—”

Blood pours into his mouth when he accidentally bites too hard. “You talked to Akira?!” he half yells, red dribbling from the corner of his lips.

“Oh my god!”

“Fuck,” he clamps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Bit too hard.”

“N-no! Don’t apologize!” she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a napkin, pulling him to a stone ledge. “Sit and take this so you don’t bleed all over yourself. I’ll be back.”

He doesn’t bother speaking, only nods as she turns around. When she comes back, she’s holding a water bottle. “Here.”

Taking it gratefully, he takes deep gulps before spitting it out. “Why the hell does this taste like the beach?” he splutters.

“I didn’t say to drink it! It’s salt water to get rid of infections!”

“Why would you do that to me?!”

“Because I thought you knew to do that from the second-year health class!” she shoots back. “Gargle it and spit. Near the gutter, mind you, it’s rude to spit in front of kids. They might get the wrong idea.”

As if kids are gonna see him and think that there’s something worth remembering. He sips, sloshing it around his mouth before gently letting it dribble into the grated sewer. “Blegh.”

“You’re welcome. Keep at it. And while you’re doing that,” she sits next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “Do you want to tell me what’s been making you anxious?”

He pauses. “Anxious?”

Makoto gives him a stern look. “‘Experiencing worry, unease, or nervousness, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.’ It was covered in your midterm.”

“Ah, right,” he mutters. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, his heart is beating too quick for it to be normal. Then again, when was the last time it wasn't? “You think I’m anxious?”

“I’m not sure. Keep gurgling,” Makoto chides.

He does, the salt water still red whenever he spat, and she continues. “All I know is when my anxiety gets really bad, I chew on my lip. Sae used to chide me when we were younger, but you know, she got busy,” she shrugs, as if he didn’t know how much it pained her to lose her only family member to a career of protecting the wrong people. “When I mentioned it to Akira, he took it upon himself to check up on me regularly during exam weeks.”

To prove her point, she takes her lower lip and flips it out for him to see—white teeth marks, but old scars instead of anything fresh. Letting go, her expression is smug. “He hasn’t felt the need to check in for a while now.”

Spitting, water finally running clear, he grins. “Good for you. I’m glad to hear that, dude.”

“Thank you, but that wasn’t the point. My point was that I was only able to get better because I told someone about it. Someone I trusted.” Makoto turns to him, her gaze serious. “I know that’s what Akira is to you. Habits like these are harmless at first, but they can turn into something else more dangerous. I won’t stand for that. My own justice won’t stand for that.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, before closing it. I’ll tell Akira, he wants to say. How many times does he have to repeat that line before he starts believing it himself? “Okay,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can say without hating himself even more.

“Okay.” She pats his knee before standing. “I can get us some gelato.” She stretches, wincing as her joints crack into place. “If you’re feeling up to it, start your cool down. Unless you wanna keep training?”

“I’m good. Felt enough blood rush for the day.”

She goes to the ice cream stand, and he stares up at the blue sky.

Makoto’s right, because of fucking course she is. She’s right, he knows she’s right. But she doesn’t get it. To her, Akira’s a friend. A guy who helped her out and changed her life, yeah. If he hadn’t met her when she did, maybe she would’ve become a scummy adult who didn’t look up from market pricing and hedge funds.

But Ryuji? Ryuji would be dead without Akira. That’s a fact and a half.

To Makoto, Akira’s a friend. To Ryuji, he’s Akira, and you can’t be on a higher pedestal in his mind than that.

—

It was Yusuke who took the first step.

“Ann,” he greets cordially. “How do you do?”

She gives him a weird look. “Kinda trying to focus here,” she says, gesturing at the scene in front of them. They, Morgana, and Sophia were in the B team as they watched the rest of them try and get rid of the remaining Shadows in Mariko’s Jail, tersely attentive and waiting on Joker’s word in case they needed a last minute switch. The Jail was environmentally brutal; the ice underneath the soles of their shoes makes them skid more often than they’d like. It almost makes the fights seem quicker, one notch faster than usual.

Yusuke pays her dismissal no mind. “I, myself, am learning many new things lately. Can the same be said about you?”

In the corner of his eye, Futaba pauses typing on her laptop to face palm.

“Are you...” Ann says after a brief pause. “Is this a threat? Are you threatening me?”

“No—”

“Panther!” Akira’s clear voice rings out.

Ann dashes forward without question, high-fiving Morgana as they trade spots.

Futaba marches forward, glaring at Yusuke like he was crazy. “You dolt!” she hisses. “What was that supposed to be? I said be slick and cool, not act like a fool!”

“While I admire the rhyme scheme, I don’t understand what you want from me. That was as ‘slick and cool’ as I’m capable of,” he furrows his brow. “I even opened with a question that seemed as though the conversation would be a normal one, but then used that to transition into what I actually wanted to discuss.”

“Stop looking so proud of yourself and—”

“Fox!”

“Back in a moment,” he says before he’s gone, Makoto taking his place, leather uniform still smoldering from when she took a fire move head-on.

“What was that about?” Haru asks, swinging her axe like a picnic basket.

“Nothing, Noir,” Futaba sighs, plopping back into place where Ann had stood. Carmen had kindly left a warm patch of concrete in her wake. “Just Inari became a big ole’ dumb-dumb.”

“I see,” she hums. “So this has nothing to do with what you two have been conspiring about lately?”

Her eyes shot wide open. “Con...conspiring?” she stutters out. “What do you mean by—”

A particularly loud scream rips into the air, and everyone turns their heads to see Captain Kidd slam his hook into the ground, purple arms erupting from the snow and wiping out a huge chunk of Shadows all in one go.

“Hot damn,” Futaba says, directing her focus back to her laptop and making sure Ryuji has enough health to keep going.

“He’s strong,” Haru observes, all playfulness gone.

“Too strong.” After Futaba gives everyone on the main team a good amount of health, something on her screen makes her pause. “Huh…?”

“Noir.”

Haru turns around to see Makoto waiting for her. “I need to discuss something with you.”

“Of course,” she steps closer to her and drops her voice. “Is everything alright?”

“I’d bring this up with Joker, but I don’t want to bother him if I’m not sure if there’s anything wrong yet,” Makoto pushes her mask up. “But have you noticed Skull's been acting strange lately?”

“Mona!”

He swaps with Ann, her pigtails covered in snow. “Ugh,” she grimaces as she shakes it out. “I could try and melt it, but it’ll just drip down my back and freeze later on, and I do not want that.”

“Panther, I’d like your input as well, if you don’t mind,” Makoto says.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I was just talking to Noir about this, but did you notice anything strange about the way Skull’s acting lately?”

Ann takes a step back. “Well, what—No—I mean, that’s your opinion, I think!” she exclaims. “To me, Skull's acting is completely normal. He’s normal—actually, scratch that, he’s better than usual. Nothing about him is wrong, I think, and that’s pretty outstanding and impressive once you consider that he’s the one with the life-long injury. Not that that has to do with anything!” Ann yells. “I just wanted to point out how far he’s come, and how much he’s kicking ass right now. Actually,” her voice shifts to a stage whisper. “Don’t mention this because I don’t wanna cause drama, but Fox has been a little weird.”

“Weird how?” Makoto whispers back, looking extremely lost.

“Just earlier, he asked me how I was.”

“...I’m not following.”

“No, Panther-chan has a point,” Haru breaks in. “I can’t say for certain, but I have a strong feeling that Fox and—” she points at Futaba conspicuously. “Are up to something.”

“Sophie and Fox?” Ann breathes.

“Panther!”

“Damn, again? That’s what we get for going into an ice Jail,” she grumbles, swapping with Yusuke.

Haru sighs. “Panther-chan isn’t the best with context clues, is she?”

“Hello ladies,” Yusuke greets. “What were we discussing?”

Makoto gives him a suspicious look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His jaw drops, bewildered, but before he can say anything, Futaba waves him over. “Get your fox butt over here!”

“I...Alright,” he says, resigned.

“Look at them,” Makoto nods at the pair. “I think you’re onto something.”

“I think so too, but I don’t want to be too hasty. After all, the two of them are such good friends now; it would be unfair to assume negative outcomes without evidence, or at least confront them first,” Haru says nonchalantly.

She understands immediately. “You have evidence?”

“Something of the sort.”

“Noir!”

“Duty calls,” she gives her a thumbs up, before Ann comes back once again.

“I can’t wait for us to go to a really hot place again,” she kicks the snow with her heels. “Then I’ll be comfortably in the B team because all the Shadows have fire resistance to the max.”

“Oh good, she’s back,” Yusuke’s expression is one of relief.

“Fox—” Futaba warns without looking up from her laptop.

“Come here. There is something we would like to discuss with you.” Whether or not it was intentional, he rests his hand on the handle of his katana.

“Okay but before we start, I just wanna ask—what are you doing with Sophie?” Ann accuses. “It’s fine to be friends with her, but you have to be careful. She’s really susceptible to what we say right now, and if you try anything funny—”

“What are you even saying?” he says, offended. “I barely even talk to her!”

They all glance at Sophia, who had been standing perfectly still and silent. She gives them a wave. They all awkwardly wave back.

Makoto places a hand on Ann’s shoulder. “Panther, Noir meant Fox and Oracle.” Ann flushes red as she continues. “And while we’re all here, I wanted to bring this up with you as well. Have you all noticed something strange with Skull?” Futaba stops typing. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I think he’s extremely anxious about something. You all know that I’m an overthinker, so I might have the wrong idea but…” she trails off.

Futaba glances at Yusuke. Yusuke glances at Ann. Ann helplessly glances at Ryuji, still fighting alongside Akira and the others.

“I know nobody asked me,” they all jump a foot in the air when Sophia speaks beside them. “But I can at least confirm for suresies that there is something strange with Skull.”

“Which is…?” Makoto prods.

“I don’t know the specifics.” Ann, Yusuke, and Futaba let out a breath. “But he did have a panic attack recently.”

“I knew it!” Makoto snaps her fingers. “He’s had signs of being anxious, but I wasn’t too sure about it.”

“Queen!”

She runs out, and Ryuji comes in, looking exhausted but pleased. “Hey y’all, what were we talking about?”

It was dead silent before Sophia steps forward. “Look what I can do!” she exclaims, changing the expression on her screen to be an emoji with a flower.

“Whoa!” His eyes bug out, and they all sigh in relief. “That’s awesome! Can you do more?”

“That’s super cool Sophie, but,” Futaba looks at Ryuji, skeptical. “Don’t you feel weak right now? Your health is way down.”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Sophie, you mind?”

“Not at all.” She calls for Pithos and green sparkles fall on him. “Better?”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

“Skull!”

“When the king calls, his knight answers,” he salutes, sprinting out as Makoto comes back in.

“So,” she glares at the rest of them. “What do the rest of you know?”

Ann groans. “Even if I did know something, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

“Wait,” Futaba points an accusing finger at her. “What do you know?”

“What do I know? What do you know? And for that matter, what does he,” Ann points at Yusuke. “Know? Noir said you guys are doing secret stuff together!”

“That’s preposterous,” he scoffs. “If it was secret, she wouldn’t have known.”

“That’s the dumbest argument I’ve ever heard.”

“How is it dumb?” he asks. “You can’t possibly think that just because Futaba and I are doing ‘secret stuff’ that it has anything to do with Skull’s situation!”

There was a pause. “Are those two connected?” Sophia asks. Futaba buries her face in her hands.

“That was...not the question I expected,” Yusuke answers weakly.

“Sophie!”

“God, I wish Joker would call for Inari instead,” Futaba groans.

Rushing out, Sophia high-fives Ryuji on the way. “Guess who’s back, motherfuckers?”

In an effort to bury their conversation, they all begin cheering overenthusiastically, Yusuke clapping politely. Bewildered, Ryuji instinctively gives them a thumbs up. “Thanks guys. Usually, my jokes don’t really land, but that made me real happy.”

“Uh, Skull,” Futaba raises an eyebrow. “How do you keep losing health? I didn’t even notice you taking a hit.”

“I’m low again? Damn, I didn’t even notice,” he groans loudly. “Queen, can you—”

“I’m on it.”

Just as Johanna heals him, Akira calls out once again: “Skull!”

“Joker really does rely on you, doesn’t he?” Yusuke observes.

Ryuji laughs. If they didn’t know any better, they would think it sounded a little nervous. “Well, gotta jet!”

High-fiving Makoto, he runs out. She stares at the remaining members of the B team. “You all know something,” she accuses. “And I understand if you’re all being loyal to him by keeping what you know close to your hearts. But remember this:” she takes a step forward, and they all take an unconscious step back, Futaba scooting from where she sat on the ground. “There comes a point where it’s actually more important to keep a person safe and healthy than to uphold a potentially dangerous secret.”

They all digest her words for a second, and flinch when a flash of blue flame appears, taking Akira’s Persona away.

“Finally.” He stretches his shoulders, satisfied. “That took awhile. Good work everyone, let’s keep going.”

Making their trek deeper into the Jail, Futaba half-jogs, half-speed walks to Ryuji. “Your health again,” she chides. “Seriously. I know I like to play around, but I always have my eye on you guys when you’re fighting. I literally have not seen you take a hit, but you’re getting drained like milk in a sink.”

He shrugs, unperturbed. “Whatever. You see my hits today, though? They were tough.”

“Yeah,” she agrees reluctantly. “But your health is still low. I’ll call Joker about that.”

Before she can turn, he grabs her wrist. “Nope,” he says. “I’ll ask Panther. Thanks though!”

Ryuji goes to Ann, and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him, watching him, surveying his every move.

All eyes except for the one that really matters.

[mxvladdy]

A Break- Chapter 5

Oh lord this took too long and ‘bout killed me. I hope my edits are good! 

It’s a biggen so it’s all under the cut! 

Hope y’all like it! I know it was long over do :/

He dreams of dragons. A swirling blur of purples, reds, and yellows. His mindscape was a rich profusion of colors. Two become sharper standing out in the sea of hues. His father’s dragon emerges from the mass. The great black dragon floats ethereally around him, judging him. But, unlike the years spent under his father's tutelage, all he got were stern looks and cold words of praise. Now, he can feel a warm sense of- pride. Was his father finally proud of him? How? Of what? Next to him, another dragon appears. His mother’s dragon wove around the long form of his father. Black and pearly pink twisting and revolve hypnotically around his body. They radiated peace, and rest. An urge to join them began to overwhelm him. A break sounded nice. He deserved one, didn’t he?

When was the last time he had felt this at peace? There were a few times perhaps in recent memories. A blurry face comes to mind. A sweet smile and a laugh that is so warm and bright. He remembers the feel of soft fingers scratching along his goatee. He felt at peace then, safe and loved. It gives him pause- the urge to slip away waning. His paternal dragon stops its coiling, eyes locking with his partner. He pulls backs, separating from his mate. His mother’s dragon chirps, drifting closer and closer, she tries to touch her son. Her whiskers mere inches from his floating hand. Obsidian claws stop her from touching her eldest. His father’s dragon huffs once in warning, shaking its great head. His mother snaps at the claw, stubborn in her convictions. She wanted her son back, safe within her clutches in the afterlife. Had he not gone through enough? From the clan to his own penances? She had been so close to getting her youngest back years ago. Yet she had been robbed then too.

She wouldn’t be denied twice.

Hanzo watches helplessly as the two beasts argue in a language he does not know. He is torn between a want to be here with them, and the warm thoughts trickling slowly back into his mind. The pearlescent dragon rears back with a cry of anguish, nostrils flaring at whatever the black dragon had said. She makes eye contact with him once more. The dragon’s eyes were the same color as his mother's before she turned from him leaving his line of sight. His father gave him one last look filled with, pride? Before disappearing too. He shouts for them, crying out for his mother. To not be left alone again. But they were silent in the void. Not even in death was he good enough.

He floats again, or lays? He truly cannot tell what axis or plane he was on. But he could still feel. He felt cold and so so tired. Where were his dragons? If his parents were here surely his dragons must be too. He calls for them, but he gets no answer. The seal on his arm was horribly quiet.

He can do nothing but drift now.

He hears things sometimes, a soft sweet voice reading to him. Other times it’s a smooth accented voice walking him through something they were about to do. Hallucinations or reality he couldn’t tell. They get stronger though. Soon he begins to feel a warmth on his face. Like he was basking in the heat of the summer sun. Other times it’s the brush of something cool and wet on his neck and arms. The fingers were too smooth to be human but dexterous like them. They were humming, the tinny and augmented drone familiar. Hanzo knew that melody, he knew that voice, but he just couldn’t place it. Hanzo listens for a while, floating on the melody before it too disappears. They leave him, only an incisive beeping echoing in his head for company.

His dragons come to him after what felt like an eternity. Akuma approaches first, his massive body colliding with Hanzo’s. The archer clings to the great beast burying his face into the fur. Hanzo cares little for the claws puncturing his skin and scratching him as Akuma clicks and coos in delight. Ibuki wraps herself around them both, quiet but vibrating with relief. Hanzo opens his mouth to speak. His throat clicks, dry and inflamed. Something is choking him.

No-rest. We will get you out soon. Out? He stiffens in their warm embrace. He didn't want out. It was nice here, quiet. He didn't feel pain or much of anything in here. He could stay like this... No. Akuma nips his cheek in aggravation. Family, they need you. She needs you-

It comes back to him hard and fast. His last kiss with you before leaving for the terminal. The video before bed. Him whispering goodnight to your sleeping face ending the call before turning in himself. To the security breach and his fight. He needs to get back. If his parents left him here then he should wake up. Why wasn't he waking up? We will protect. His dragons nuzzle him once more before they push away returning to the great beyond, promising to take care of you while he gets stronger. Their determination fuels him to fight, to survive.

He trains his mind to pick up on the noises and touches happening around him while he waits. He picks up the tick of a clock and the sound of waves by his side. Their constant background noise soothing and grounding. Genji comes daily to hum and chat in their native tongue. He spoke of idle, sweet little things. The weather, who was on kitchen duty that evening, the training schedule. He sounded so hopeful every time he visited. Like his big brother was going to wake up at any moment and respond. After Genji came Mei and Ana. The two mostly acted like he was with them and discussed whatever book they were reading while waiting on him. They would come in the evenings and read passages aloud for him. It was a welcomed break from the monotony of silence. Ana came more often than Mei. He could smell the tea she would bring in when she sat by his side reading aloud in Arabic. Ah- her favorite book of poetry. She never translated this book for him, but between her cadences and phrasing, she wove the beauty of the verses nonetheless.

Ana was interrupted today though. Midway through a verse, she stopped. Her tongue stumbling over itself uncharacteristically. Hanzo felt her shift and rise without another word. He recognized Baptiste and Angela's voices talking to her, their voices low and hurried. He hears Ana laugh gently and the door to his room snaps shut.  His doctors bustle around him for a moment though he senses another person in the room with them. Odd- unless his brother came back. No, much too quiet to be him. Angie and Baptiste leave quickly, their check-up done, leaving him alone with the new visitor.

"Hey, Hanz." A soft voice brushes his cheek. "How are you today?" Hanzo’s heart hurts. How did- when did you come here. He wanted to be angry, to yell at you for coming to such a dangerous place. He wanted to hunt down whoever found you and throttle them. This was putting you in harm’s way. Yet, at the same time, he wished he could see you. He wished he could tell you how much he missed you and that he was there. Instead, floats in his own subconscious. “I-Angie says that you might hear me. Something about your brain scans?” You squeeze his hand with a light chuckle. You trail off distracting yourself by rubbing soothing patterns in his palm. “If-if you can, know that I know. Not everything, your brother has been so kind to me.” You squeeze his hand, bordering on almost uncomfortable. “But I need to hear the things he said from you. So-so get better soon, please? I miss you.” Now more than ever he wishes he could comfort you. Why hadn't he just swallowed his pride early? This could have been avoided. He hoped at least.

The rest of your visit passes too quickly for his liking. The scant bit of privacy he had with you was filled with your tender voice and gentle touches. He felt your fingers brush along his smooth jaw, stroking it like you did whenever you would lounge in bed sweaty but happy after a lengthy reunion. The kisses you placed on his brow were just as sweet too. You only left after one of the doctors came in to force you out to get dinner and stretch.

You poke at the warm meal Ana had plated for you in the mess hall. The steaming rice and tomato covered lentils sitting comfortably in your stomach. “Eat, dear. Then I think it’s best if you take a nap. When was the last time you slept horizontally?” Ana winks at you over her shoulder stirring a pot filled with browning onions and spices. The elderly medic had lost count of the number of times she had walked in on you sleeping in the chairs in the medical wing.

“I’m fine-really.” You smile rubbing at your sore neck. The hospital chairs here were soft, sure, but not meant for daily sleeping. Ana snorts but doesn’t say anything more on the matter. Instead, she distracts your haggard mind with recipes and tea ideas, sprinkling in little stores of her childhood. You find yourself relaxing more and more; the time between when you wanted to get back to Hanzo’s side and since you sat down for dinner growing longer and longer in between. You yawn widely, failing to cover it with your mouth with your hand. “Shit- sorry.” You flush. The other woman waves it off.

“It’s fine sweetheart. Just means my food and company did its job.” She smiles collecting both of your dishes to place them in the sink. “Come-let me escort you to your room.”

“You really aren’t going to let me go back huh?”

“Not a chance child. He isn’t going anywhere trust me.” She grips the back of your shirt to lead you in the opposite direction of the ICU. You scowl but follow along, dragging your feet along a little in the process.

You had been offered Hanzo’s room when you landed last week. It had been untouched since he had been transferred to the Ilios base. But you couldn’t, it felt almost rude to. He hadn’t consented to any of this. It just felt wrong. His room was what you had always imagined. Clean and tidy, the few items he had well loved and maintained. Some looked pricy, but most were homey little things that must have reminded him of Japan. You ask to stay in a vacant room but still find yourself in his room from time to time, dusting his heavy bookshelf or to vacuum his rug and shake the linens out. You only broke down once in his room, but it was enough for you to never want to go back in there. Not until Hanzo was back living in it. While mopping one day you stumbled across a little box, it was your box, the old thing was filled with letters. The creases in the paper thin and tearing from constantly being opened and reread over and over again. The trinkets you had sent him over the years were worn, but clean. The metal pins and coins shiny and discolored from fingers rubbing them lovingly. You put the box back where you found it and leave. Athena could clean from now on.

Genji and Angie had discussed a lot with you since you took up residence. You were grateful for their updates and check-ins. Baptiste even gave you some reading about what to expect when Hanzo is up and going through physical therapy. He emphasized that the longer he was in the ICU the longer recovery could be. “But don’t stress,” He pats your hand warmly. “That man is as stubborn as an Ox. He’ll bounce back in no time!”

You hope so. From the bits Genji told you after they found him...it had been- disparaging. The road had been rocky, though they wouldn’t disclose all the details to you. The first few weeks were touch and go before Angie finally could sign off on putting him under medically. She spoke as simply as she could but it was still a lot for you. But she was certain he would pull through, and that as soon as he could breathe on his own again she would begin the process of waking him up.

How long that would take no one knew.

You met quite a few interesting characters while you sat vigil by his bedside. Mei is a riot. The plucky young scientist is a delightful conversationalist and had many stories about Hanzo. When she talked about him you could immediately understand why they were friends. Both mathematically minded and sentimental to a fault.

Satya was more pensive when she visited at first, but warmed up to you gradually over talks of your business. Her eyes lit up when you told her your struggles with tin designs. “Let me design some for you. Your tins are wonderfully shaped, but ultimately boring.” She looks down at Hanzo’s resting form. She strokes his head lightly. The stubble growing on his crown had been recently washed. Baptist came in earlier to remove the stitches around his temporal lobe.  “I’ll send you some designs tonight.” She nods curtly before leaving you alone again. Over the next few weeks, you gradually met the rest of the agents. Whether it be them coming to say hello and check up on their comrade or in the kitchen, welcoming you to a warm meal, and thousands of questions about how you met.

It wasn’t until the second month of your stay did you meet Hanzo’s dragons. It was late, later than any of the medical staff would advise you to stay up. But, you could only stay away from work for so long and it was finally quiet. You were working by Hanzo’s side, the beeping of his monitor lulling you into a trance while you read over your spreadsheets. At first, you didn’t notice, the rhythmic beeping of his machinery was white noise to you at this point. The first few hitches you missed, too preoccupied with moving numbers and shipments around. The skips steadily grew faster and more erratic, it pulls your focus from your screen. “Hanzo?” You toss your laptop to the side, ready to buzz for help. He doesn’t move, not even a flicker behind his eyelids. Nothing was out of place until you touched him. His arm is warm underneath your fingers. Too warm, near scorching. You yelp in pain falling back at a sudden blinding light that erupts from his tattoo. The room fills with a blaze of blue and gold, the energy of the blast knocks you to the floor. You scream as two massive dragons irrupt from him. They swirl around the tiny space, scleraless eyes scan the room for something.

That something just happened to be you. Two sets of eyes lock with yours. Large fanged jaws open wide, hackles raised. You sit frozen in awe and terror. Were they going to kill you? No-surely not. Genji said they would recognize you-hypothetically. They were an extension of their master's souls. The two lunge for you, three-clawed feet open wide like birds of prey. Squeezing your eyes shut you wait for the impact of scales and teeth.

Two small projectiles collide with you. The force of which knocks the air from you. “Oph!” You wheeze arms wrapping instinctively around the squirming warm creatures clinging to your chest. Two thin dry tongues flick out and tickle your jaw and cheeks.

“I heard a scream! Are you-” Genji burst in looking about frantically, his wakizashi drawn and at the ready. Angie and Baptist barge in behind him, both armed as well. “Oh.” Genji gasps, his sword drops limply to his side. “Aniki.” You look up from your prone position, still dazed and confused by the now tiny blue dragons nestled on your stomach.

“Are you alright?” Genji asks, helping you up back to your feet and righting your upturned chair. His eyes never leave the two spirits in your hands. You nod meekly. “Come, let’s give them room to work.” He takes one last look at his brother and the doctors before leading you out with him. “What happened?” He asks in the hallway eyeing the two blue dragons now wrapped around your upper body. He punches in the code for his room and lets you in.

“I-I don’t know.” The larger of the two dragons chirps as it loses its grip on your sweater. You scoop it up to nuzzle your neck like you would an infant. It coos, wrapping its fluffy tail around your wrist. The slimmer smaller one squawks indignantly, jealous of its partner's attention. It too nuzzles at your neck, draping itself around you like a scarf. “One minute I was balancing my checkbooks, and the next I heard the heart monitor going crazy. Then these two jump me.” You glanze up at Genji. He looks so hopeful. A small sigh of relief escapes him. “Is this good?”

Genji sighs heavily and flops onto his bed. He rubs at the synthetic skin of his chin thoughtfully. He points at the two dragons. “Look at how translucent they are. It takes a lot of energy to summon them to our realm.” You clutch at the squirming reptiles taking a good look at them. The two look at you with large innocent eyes. What he said was true. You could see your hands through their bodies. Their scales were dull and lacked the luster of Genji’s dragon. The larger one’s left antler was chipped and flaking onto the floor. The smaller one was very thin and hollow looking. Genji sighs looking miffed. “My best bet is they told Hanzo you're here and he sent them out to look after you. Which is sweet, but foolish. Summoning when we are mentally or physically weak could kill us if we are not careful.” He drags his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What happens now?”

He shrugs. “I can’t say. It’s up to him now. But, I believe this is a good sign.” Genji reaches out and scratches behind one of the dragon's ears. “Thank you for coming out to us.” He speaks directly to the dragons, bowing his head low in respect. They preen, clicking and cooing in delight. Genji’s little dragon appears shortly after jumping into the fray of blue and gold.  You sit in the cyborg’s cozy room watching Hanzo’s dragons play. For the first time in ages your chest cliches with something other than fear.

It takes another 3 weeks for Hanzo to open his eyes. Of course, he had to do it the one night you decided to sleep in a bed. Your back had been pleading for days for a normal night's rest. It felt like your head had barely hit your pillow before his two dragons woke you. Tiny claws kneading your stomach and chest. They were solid and heavy. Their scales are bright and iridescent. The larger one, Akuma bumps your face hard with his antlers. Huge, arching healthy antlers. He trills at you expectantly.  

Genji beats you to the medical ward by seconds. His exhaust vents pumping steam out like a geyser. He speaks quickly, his words fast and agitated. He switches languages rapidly, getting more and more agitated at the blank look the assistant barring the door gives him. He is getting flustered and quickly. His green lights blazed brighter and brighter with agitated arm gestures.

“Genji-Genji!” You rest a gentle hand on his cold shoulder. He rounds on you blindly, eyes electric. The hairs on your arm begins to rise as his dragon begins to awaken just under the surface. His temper cools when he recognizes just who was trying to calm him. You glance over to the trembling medical assistant. “Come- we’ve waited this long. They will get us when it’s safe to.” You assure your friend. Genji nods jerkily, taking your offered hand. He follows you down the hall back to his room. You were both tense and vibrating with nervous energy.

You lead Genji to his room, much like he did weeks ago. Punching in his room code you collapse onto the mountain of pillows he had on the floor for a chair the moment the door closed. You hug his pillows close, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach “He’s up.” Genji spoke in awe. You crane your neck to look as Genji paces around you. His tone was tight but hopeful. “He’s up- He’s ok.” He smiles down at you, his face the brightest you had ever seen it. He wipes at his eyes and exhales a curse of joy. Dropping down next to you, he sits cross-legged by your side.

“Yes-” It was all you could manage to say. You squeeze his knee in reassurance, your own eyes prickling around the corners. Hot tears threatening to overflow. You didn’t want to admit it to him, to anyone, but you had started to lose hope. How many times had you sat there painstakingly etching each and every angle and blemish on Hanzo’s unconscious face into your memory, just in case it was to be your last time with him? How many nights had you held your breath, eyes locked with the complex monitors and pumps looking for something, hitch in his breath, or a twitch of a finger. Something to tell you he was still there. A wave of guilt washes over you just thinking of how he had woken up alone, how you weren’t there for him.

It’s not like he knew you were here, but it hurt your heart regardless. Doubt hits you. Would he even want you here? He clearly had no intentions of telling about this part of him. He had his crew to support him, and his brother here. “What are you going to say?” Genji asks gently. You feel his warm human hand land on top of yours giving you a comforting squeeze.

“What are you planning to say?” You parrot.

Genji thinks on it for a second, biting the synthetic skin of his lower lip. “Ugh- that’s why I asked you first! I don’t know if I want to punch him for making us all worry, or hug him.”

“I wish I had an answer too.” You confess. “I don’t even know if I should go see him.”

“What!” Genji gasps. “You have to! He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Genji,” You roll on to your side. “I’m not even supposed to be here.” You nestle into the multicolored pillows rubbing at your eyes wearily. “Maybe it would be best if I went back home. Give him some space to recover. Give whatever this is time.” Your conversation partner goes quiet. His dark eyes, so expressive like his brothers bore into you. It wasn’t judgment. Nothing of the sort. It was understanding and flickers of sympathy.

“Do you want to leave?” He asks. No. Deep down you didn’t, but the high of hearing Hanzo's condition was slowly being replaced with the reality of the situation. The reality of what now? You shrug hiding your face in your arms too ashamed to admit. He lets you stew for a moment. “My brother-” He starts slowly. “My brother is many things, he is prideful and arrogant. Sometimes to the point of being unbearable to deal with. He can be as immovable as a mountain, as you might say bullheaded. ” Genji chuckles. “But, he is incredibly patient, I never noticed it as a child…but now, it’s a trait I envy.” He rubs at his eyes thinking back to the box he found in his brother’s room, the hidden pictures of you and him. He had never seen his brother so relaxed before. He would do anything to keep seeing that smile on his brother’s face. “I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Genji continues. “ just please try to see him once? If you're able to talk to him, do. I can tell you’re special to him, he will do what it takes to make this work.”

You bob your head in understanding, working to swallow around the lump growing in your throat. “I’m scared.” You admit timidly. Genji gives you a gentle pat on the leg.

“It is a scary situation, but trust me when I say you have nothing to fear from Hanzo.”

Genji leaves you at that, you both decided that when they were given that all clear to see Hanzo he should go first. He tries to object, but it was merely a formality. You could see how desperate he was to go. You spend your time waiting in his room, with his dragon Mizuki and her siblings. They could tell you were in distress and tried their hardest to comfort you. Their warm bodies blanket yours, their purring helping drift you off to sleep.

A sharp knock wakes you and your three dragons. They all perk up, ears all twitching towards the door. Akuma growls low in his throat. You open the door to Angie. She beams at you, hand hovering mid-knock. “Ah good! Sorry if you were resting.Hanzo was asking for you.” She steps back to let you out. Mizuki yips shrilly and leaps at the doctor. She catches them gracefully and strokes their head. “You can visit briefly. I am still monitoring him.”

“Right- thank you Angie.” You turn to go.

Angie stops you with a firm hand on your shoulders. “His larynx and trachea are still healing. Talking on his end is strictly forbidden, understand?” You nod. “I’m keeping him for observation for the next week- you are welcome to visit whenever he is feeling up to it.” With that she gives your shoulders a firm clap and lets you go. You walk slowly to the medbay, Hanzo’s dragons quiet and contemplative on your shoulders. For all your anxiety your mind was completely blank. Where would you even start? Knocking softly on the door to Hanzo's private room you enter.

The sigh of relief that escapes is loud in the open space. He turns to watch you from his inclined position on his hospital bed. He looks better. The tubes and wires helping him breathe and heal had been condensed down to just a heart monitor, IV drip, and oxygen. You take in the muted colors of healing bruises on his face and chest. He hardly looked like himself though. His face was clean shaven from surgery and his hair buzz cut short. It wasn’t him, but it didn’t matter. The fire was still there behind his dark eyes. They still screamed strength and perseverance. It was the same look that had attracted you from the start.

Hanzo regards you heavily, his expression gives nothing away as you come to sit by him. His fiery eyes flicker for a moment when he notices the unshed tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak and winces. Each breath felt like fire in his lungs. Hanzo rubs at his bandaged neck in agony. “You know you’re not allowed to talk.” You chastise him rushing up to grab his water and straw. He waves it away with a frown and sinks back into the thin pillows of his bed. You sit back down, playing with the metal straw between your fingers. “We have a lot to talk about huh?” You ask to break the silence. Hanzo huffs at the understatement of the century. He rubs his sweaty palms across the sheets covering the stumps of his legs. You watch him, he always rubbed at his knees when he was nervous. You reached for his hand not filled with wires and tubes, but stopped. Hanzo grabs your hand before you could pull it back. His large hand covering yours, he was so warm and safe. “I’m sorry.” You can feel yourself falling apart at the seams. A mix of relief and anxiety creating an indescribable feeling in you.

Damn, what were you even apologizing for? Knowing his secret? Learning about the Shimada clan without his consent, especially since he made it clear he had no intentions of telling you himself. Genji hadn’t told you everything, but it was enough to add fuel to the fire of nightly rants with his dragons. You wipe at your face hating how hot your skin felt with tears. Hanzo tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Wha-” He grunts pointing to the side table by the door and mimes writing on his palm. His com and phone sat innocently alongside his gold ribbon and a few get-well cards and dried flowers, all gifted to him by the team. He takes the phone from you eagerly and opens up to his notes app. He writes out something quickly and trusts it at you without hesitation.

I love you, I’m sorry

What little resolve you had left breaks at his admission. You pepper his waxy skin with tear streaked kisses “I love you too- truly.” You whisper into the bandages on his skull. The strong smell of antiseptics not deterring you in the least bit. He catches a stray kiss and turns back to his screen with vigor.

I know I have much to explain, secrets that I’ve held for too long and for no reason. You were never at fault for any of this, I trust you implicitly I have for a while.  

Hanzo swallows thickly, thumbs hovering over the keyboard while you read in silence.

I know I have damaged what trust you must have had in me. If this is too much, if you deem this unsalvageable… I cannot blame- I would never blame you for wanting to step back. If you desire a clean break.

“Hanzo-” He wouldn’t-

But, if you are willing to give me a chance- I will give you everything. If you are willing to wait…

He looks to you waiting. You would either stay or leave, it was up to you. You read and reread his words, both of you trying to ignore the uptick on his heart monitor. You click the phone off and put it on the windowsill. Breathing deeply you stare blindly out the window. You don’t answer with words. Truthfully you think you had any that would express what you felt in that moment. Instead, you take his hand in both of yours. You kiss along his knuckles, brushing your lips along each scar you see, both old and new alike. You knew them all by heart. They had been a calendar of sorts, the mending of torn skin and removal of stitches, your anchor. They were what kept you going on the hardest nights, they kept you knowing that the wait was worth it. You couldn’t think of stopping now, fear be damned. “I’ll be here as long as you need.”

The smile that graces his face was well worth the wait.

[korkrunchcereal]

WoW Q and A

Elaborate on the Chains of Domination cinematic: Story of Anduin and Sylvanas/relationship with the jailer is foundational to Shadowlands. Anduin was dominated. Jailer needed someone like Anduin to be able to walk into Bastion and claim the key. Brief moment of Anduin gaining control in cinematic, so still in there. Chains of Domination will explain more.

When he (Anduin) walks past Uther, did Uther know what was happening or did he feel bad? Couple things going on. His hand touches his wound, made by a weapon of the maw. Uther recognized on some level that power, as well as stirring memories seeing this blonde, kingly figure. Confrontation with Sylvanas in the raid one of the biggest moments in WoW.

Moving from classic to BC while keeping a copy. Whats it going to look like for gold, items/banks. Am I going to see differences or is it two separate entities for all time? Logging in at pre patch will snap a copy of your character. There will be an option to move onto BC classic, or stay in vanilla classic. Can pay a fee and activate “clone” to put them on BC classic if you choose to stay Vanilla. Beta is around the corner. 

How will high population  numbers be handled in TBC classic? How will you handle bottlenecks, sharding, dailies etc. Recognize high population, want to make sure experience is enjoyable. Optimization improvements to help stabilize servers. Experience of rare material and multiple people going is part of the game. Willing to make targeted changes if there is particular problems. 

 Will there be more race/class combinations? Player agency and choice is major theme. Customization key, but also want to reinforce differences. Want to maintain a world that doesn’t have exact symmetry. Have gone back over the years to change things. For now, think they’ve gone about far enough. Nothing planned, but never say never.

 Surprise on Covenant armor? Based on heritage armor. Pure aesthetic, want to give players more and more options. Gameplay reasons to not tmog the entire range (warrior wearing cloth for example)

Workflow change during pandemic? Happened very suddenly. Team reached to each other to find comfort. The isolation found purpose for devs. Making Shadowlands/games help to reconnect friends and people.

Any plans to address faction imbalance? What happened to cause it? Something talked about a lot. Know there’s a very real problem, particularly high end. What caused the problem? Imbalanced in racials allowed to persist too long. At this point, don’t think racials are imbalanced. People staying Horde however due to social reasons now; compounded issue from all the way back from MoP etc. No real answer. Social issue requires social answer.

Have you ever seen a swing in either faction direction due to story elements? Across the game as a whole, faction balance is pretty good. Its raiding/high end PvE that the imbalances really emerge. Have seen faction switches/more cross faction alts in BfA for example. 

If I play BC, when I decide to play on main char and a classic era realm at 60, will I have to name change? You have your name in both places. Ensure people don’t park on names forever.

Any plans to connect more realms? Had to do survey across all populations in all realms. Essentially have to copy an entire realms database onto another. Not a flip a switch thing, lot of work. Have been able to address a large amount of the very low pop. realms. Had to pause for Shadowlands launch due to launch and Shadowlands had huge effects on server populations. Last time they connected realms was right before WoD, and realms had a LOT of queue problems. Watching and waiting for populations to go down before making the jump.

Never gonna have cross faction raids, dungeons etc? Not gonna say never. Essential to hold onto identity but...

Will our amount of Anima be increased later? Is it possible for sanctum upgrades to be account wide? Lot to collect. Hotfixed Anima drops so far. Looking for new sources of Anima for next patch. Over all looking at the costs. Cosmetics are generally account wide. Anima is designed to span the bulk of Shadowlands. 

Sire Denathrius is an eternal one and imprisoned. What will he do? Will we see him again? Best laid plans can adapt. During BfA, intended Bwonsamdi to be a one off. There, but no big deal. Once they heard the VA they went “we need more of this character”. Planned for Sire Denathrius to be there, you kill him w/e. Then heard the VA and went “this guys awesome we love him.” Changed plan to keep Sire Denathrius alive. Will find some other role for him to take. Watch fan feedback to see how community responds/gravitate to. He is in that sword, there may just be allies of him that would be interested in liberating him from the sword...

When will we see more Heritage Armor? As each one was released, got more and more excited from response/enhanced feel of the game. Working on further Heritage Armor. Some coming to near future updates, some more in the future.

Any plans to bring back the AH app? Not as you know it perse. It got turned into a lot of automation. Revamp removed app, then change of the AH. Meant to be more of a socialize thing then accumulation of gold by automated system. Recognize however convenience factor. Consider getting back into some form, but not like how it used to be.

Will there be more new character customization options for Shadowlands? None in Shadowlands. Tend to be fairly big projects. Release them when it’ll be very good for players. Lot of work to juggle. Felt like they got good feedback and support from it. Want to invest going forward when it makes sense.

What are actual requirements for flying in Shadowlands? Where can we fly? Can we fly across the realms? Shadowlands pathfinder no rep grind. Just requires completing full covenant campaign (9.0 and 9.1). Cannot fly from zone to zone. Once unlocked, alts will be able to fly freely. 

In the BC classic, will there be class tuning that would make it notably different than 2007? Broadly no. Want to keep the authentic behavior of final patch, like classic had. Seal of blood

Is there work being done on new Torghast Anima Powers for later patches? Spec specific, when can we see? WIll be done through all patches/future patches. new powers etc. As for powers working outside Torghast, keep OP nature of them inside Torghast.

Difference between passage of time in Shadowlands and in Azeroth? Salanar the Horseman in DK order hall said he was in the veil for what felt like days and it was between WoTLK and Legion. Meet characters for whom time doesn’t seem to have meaning. What is time a construct of? Order. On Azeroth, understand the passage of time because of influence of titans/order. Outside of the influence of order, time loses meaning. A lot more fluid. Shadowlands about eternities. Can have it perceived differently by different characters even going through same thing.

Bringing back 10-man content, either as different difficulty or different instances for smaller groups to tackle. All raid basically is/can be 10 man. These days its the 5 player mega dungeons that fill the role. In BC, ZA and Kara filled that niche of the smaller group doing the BIG, raid like content. Fulfills the spirit of 10 man content.

Will summoning stones be available at launch of BC or come later? Will have them at launch.

What’s Bolvar up to and where is his story going? Will he have a major role to play? One of the fun parts of Shadowlands was getting Bolvar back into the mix. We saw him be pivotal in Torghast and getting into Shadowlands. Saw there was a price to pay for visions with Torghast. He will be front and center in Chains of Domination. Good rallying figure.  

In BC, how will pvp titles be handled without battlegroups? Originally, reward was made for the best player in each battlegroup due to technical reasons. Now that they have better technology, fair way is % based, though still want to keep it small amount. 

In Stormwind, Darnassus refugees mention going back once the smoke clears. Does this mean Teldrassil can grow back and become habitable again? The damage was pretty definitive/lot of lives lost. Don’t want to reverse on a whim. The story of the souls of the Night Elves however is not yet done, nor is Tyrande’s story going into Chains of Domination and beyond.

Will fresh classic servers be added in addition to TBC servers? For the timeline of BC classic, no new classic servers. Eyes on it however for the future. Will discuss once BC launches.

How do you get the Wandering Ancient Mount? Got to have Shadowlands. Will be in 9.0.5 patch update next month (March). 

[scottspack]

SO YOU JUST FINISHED THE UNTAMED AND YOU WANT TO READ SOME FIC

Congratulations Jen @jlf23tumble on finishing The Untamed (tomorrow)! Now that you’re done with the show (tomorrow), you can finally dive into the wide and wonderful world of untamed fic!!! I’m ecstatic to be personally curating your reading experience! LET’S BEGIN!

I’ve started off with a list of 5 fics I think you should read in this specific order to 1. get some resolution from the end of the show and 2. get you acclimated to untamed fics! Then, I’ve listed a bunch of fics in different categories for your perusal to read at your leisure! This is an unbelievably long post holy shit brace yourself.

I’m like fairly certain that all of these follow the tv show canon BUT also its very typical for authors to combine many aspects of all of the different forms of canons to their liking. Therefore, I feel like I need to give a quick explanation of a couple things from the novel that show up frequently in fics that idk if you know already or not:

In the book, when Wei Wuxian is resurrected, he is brought back in Mo Xuanyu’s actual body and has his face and everything. Mo Xuanyu was pretty young when he died, I wanna say maybe 17 or 18??? and he was also short and pretty and flamboyantly gay. This is where the references to their crazy height difference come from, but again, I think I tried to include mostly fics that skew more heavily to the tv version where WWX keeps his same body and he and LWJ are more evenly matched physically.

Its novel canon that LWJ smells like sandalwood incense and has golden colored eyes. This is mentioned in like almost every single wangxian fic ive ever read, even if the author said they were strictly adhering to show canon lol

At the end of the novel wangxian run away together and elope! Obviously in the show that’s not how it goes down, but I think a couple of the fics I’ve recced might mention it in passing. (Oh also when they elope they make a pact to fuck “everyday,” a concept that might be mentioned as well.

Obviously, we have to kick it off with some fics that both reunite wangxian and give more resolution to the actual show. If you’re like me, it both took you a while to get all the way through the show AND took 100% of your brain power to remember all of the characters and plot lines. If that’s that case: these fics should be helpful in serving as a kind of emotional refresher for the show to wrap up some loose ends and to dive deeper into some of the things the show glosses over for one reason or another!

1. A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (Wangxian, E, 21k) 

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

I found this fic on someone’s blog when they said that it was the definitive fic to read directly after finishing the series so i saved it, read it directly after finishing the series, and felt COMPLETE. Beautifully written, seamlessly fits with canon, and has a super fulfilling resolution. The perfect way to kick off reading untamed fic!

2. One Rogue Spark In My Direction by hansbekhart (Lan Wangji/Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan, E, 5k)

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

In “A Lot Of Edges Called Perhaps” Wangji mentions that he has had sex before and this is the in-universe story of that time and WHEW BABY!!!! AHHHHHH!!! While this fic is like, almost pure smut, I think there is a ton of value to it in terms of emotional perspective on how fucked up LWJ was after WWX’s death. Also, it’s very hot.

3. Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Laz Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

This is a fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui from when he rescues Sizhui from the Burial Mounds until they bring WWX back to the Cloud Recesses after he’s resurrected. It made me cry about 18 times and I consider it fully canon in relation to the show. I think this gives a lot of emotional depth to the Wangji/Sizhui family relationship that is very important in most fics, so this acts as a good base since the show doesn’t really talk about it too much.

4. Your Name, Safe In Their Mouth by astrolesbian (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, G, 10k)

“You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he croaks.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

or: lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

The Wei Wuxian and Sizhui bonding fic that I so desperately desperately needed to read. Since we got the emotional depth to Wangji/Sizhui in the last fic, here’s some emotional resolution for Sizhui and his other dad!!!!!!!!!! Scratched the very particular itch of “but have they REALLY talked about what it means that they’re reunited after 16 years???”

5. climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, & Wei Wuxian, T, 15k)

Jin Ling had begun to suspect years ago that there were parts of his family history that had been crossed out; long streaks of black where Wei Wuxian had been. The truth is more like whole books being brought up from their hiding places again.

Or: Jin Ling tries to figure out what family means, now.

OKAY!!!! Last emotional resolution before I send you on your way to explore! This is the emotional resolution for the other half of WWX’s family. Featuring just a FUCK TON of family feels and a lot of TALKING that this fucked up family needs so damn bad. *chefs kiss* muy delicioso! ALSO i think this is a good introduction to a lot of the naming conventions that are used frequently in untamed fic that took me a while to pick up on!

WHEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now that you’ve gotten some post-show catharsis in the form of a few extremely well-written fics, it’s time for a full rec! I’ve divided it up into seven categories: long fics, smutty one-shots, 3zun (lan xichen/nie mingjue/meng yao) fics, fics about the juniors, family fun fics, some miscellaneous fics, and then some yizhan RPF! I wouldn’t have put any of these fics on here if I didn’t think they were worth reading, BUT! I did mark my particular favorites with asterisks to demark the crème de la crème of the bunch. SO! LET’S DIVE IN!

EPIC TALES (LONG AND/OR IMMERSIVE)

My Age Has Never Made Me Wise by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 63k) ***

“We hear that His Excellency might be married by summer’s end,” the merchant’s wife says and Wei Wuxian freezes, his heart in his throat. “The Gusu Lan sect has been buying enough red silk and brocade that the merchants in Caiyi can’t satisfy the demand.”

He feels himself grow brittle inside, like a flick of a finger to his temple might make him shatter. His ears are ringing.

“Who’s the lucky bride?” he asks despite himself. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Or: The story of a marriage.

I LOVE THIS FIC. YOU MUST PROMISE ME YOU’LL READ THIS FIC. The absolute best kind of slow burn and I think such an extremely accurate representation of the canon material. I’m always surprised by the authors in this fandom’s ability to write shit that is so concretely grounded in the universe. This could and should be a real companion novel. Amazing. I love it. (Also I know you said you’re not into fics that are long just to be long and I think this fic is the exact opposite of that, it’s long but for good reason and has such an insanely satisfying payoff that it’s completely worth dedicating a few hours to!)

The Year of Drought by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 24k)

Wei Ying could not be contained by the walls of the Cloud Recesses, alive again and overflowing with it, bursting like a dam in spring with the force of two lives unspent. And so he had to go. Lan Wangji understands that—he understood it when Wei Ying told him of his plans, looking at Lan Wangji above the rim of his cup with an apologetic smile, like craving freedom was something to apologize for.

Wei Ying would go, and Lan Wangji would see him off; this has always been the only way it could be.

Or: In the absence of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji waits.

The previous fic but from Wangji’s perspective. Absolutely required reading if you read the other one. Wangji baby.......i love you.....

further than the grave by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 32k)

There is something about grief that turns Lan Wangji numb. He cannot be certain if it is not some kind of defect inside him that makes him so. But just as he grieved his mother’s passing with dry eyes and a stone in his chest, so he grieves Wei Ying: quietly, frozen inside, without tears. Beyond the Jingshi window it might be spring, but Lan Wangji’s body and mind are still held within the winter’s grasp.

As the anniversary of his leaving seclusion approaches, Lan Wangji ponders the nature of grief and healing.

One last fic from the same verse as the previous two, this talks about Wangji post-WWX’s death and then them dealing with the past post-marriage. Its just as good and immersive and amazing as the previous two parts, but this is the only untamed fic that actually made me gasp out loud and if you read this and can guess what it was we will be best friends forever. (There are two other fics in this verse that are also good but these three in particular are god-tier in my eyes.)

Vagabond by xantissa (Wangxian, E, 66k)

Wei Wuxian comes back to Cloud Recesses after a year of wandering the world, hoping to start a relationship with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t expect to come into the middle of a case of sleeping sickness mysteriously killing people, nor does he expect what follows, putting everything he holds dear on the line once again.

OOOWEE CASE FIC! CASE FIC! This is truly the twisty turny intense and INTERESTING type of fic from this fandom that blows my mind. This could fully be a stand alone novel its that good and there’s that much to it. Another one that isn’t long just to be long, it has so much PLOT!!!!! REAL GOOD SHIT!

Seldom All They Seem by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 25k)

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

A canon-divergent fic exploring “what if Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were betrothed from when they were young like Yanli and Jin Zixuan?” It’s extremely good and very compelling and also made me cry multiple times. (The confrontation in the rain doesn’t get any easier even if they’re betrothed!)

Half Cloak & Half Dagger by Fahye (Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, E, 13k)

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

A follow-up fic set in the “Seldom All They Seem” universe but focused on xiyao. Has hands down the best written characterization of meng yao in any fic ive read so far. I continuously come back to this fic just to read the absolutely genius way this author writes the Head Bitch In Control of the cultivation world.

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (Wangxian, T, 20k)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

I kept avoiding this fic, even though it was really high up on the list of most popular fics in the fandom, bc the premise sounded pretty goofy BUT I finally bit the bullet one day and AHHHHHHHH!!!!! Very very very cute and fun, made me smile like an idiot throughout the entire thing. Heartwarming and very well written!!!

never let me go by yiqie (Wangxian, E, 69k)

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

Another extremely good and super immersive case fic. If you ever just want to sink really deep into an untamed fic, this is a great one for it.

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (Wangxian, E, 24k)

“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian repeats. His heart clenches. He wants—but he’d really meant to have this nightmare stuff down before they met again, so he wouldn’t find himself relying on Lan Wangji’s nearness. He’s not supposed to go back yet. But he’s so tired, and his will crumbles. “Yeah,” he says. “All right. Take me back to Gusu with you.”

You want hurt/comfort? I gotcha hurt/comfort RIGHT HERE!

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (Wangxian, E, 25k) ***

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, voice slow and a pitch too quiet. A second later Wei Wuxian understands why. “I cannot hear.”

Or; Lan Wangji is cursed into internal isolation. Their ability to understand one another remains as unwavering as ever.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I have been thinking about this fic nonstop since I read it. It is…..fucking incredible. One of the best qualities of wangxian is that they’re so in tune with each other and able to work so cohesively with little communication and this fic is like “what if we take that and DIAL IT UP TO ELEVEN” and i was like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (Wangxian, M, 28k) ***

The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did.

okay so this is literally getting added to the fic rec one day before i send it to you because i just finished it and WHEW BABY!!!!! YES it is just another wangxian post-canon reunion get-together fic, BUT 1. i cant get enough of that specific brand of fic and 2. ITS SO GOOD. ITS. SO. GOOD. achingly tender and incredibly soft but also funny and sweet and very in-character! i love it!

THE BONE ZONE (WANGXIAN SMUT)

Sweet Night by corteae (Wangxian, E, 10k)

It was like coming back to life again, like being restitched into existence, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. From the surface of his skin to the marrow of his bones, everything new and purposeful. Like being pulled back from oblivion into an embrace of pure light. A feeling of absolute asylum.

That’s what it felt like, to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him.

An in-show au of “what if they just admitted they’re in love and fucked during episode 43?” Soft and romantic and hot!

the crucial point by dissembler (Wangxian, E, 7k) ***

Months after parting on the mountain, Lan Wangji makes up his mind, plots his course on a map, and has faith.

I LOVE THIS FIC! Very realistic and sweet wangxian reunion fic from wangji’s perspective. Has so many good little details and is very true to their characters. Good shit. Great.

Stainless by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

What is getting into a new pairing if not an excuse to read sex pollen in new and exciting ways!

To Recklessly Confess by la_dissonance (Wangxian, E, 8k)

Lan Wangji has a fantasy. Wei Wuxian gets several clues.

The “what if they just fucked in episode 43” au but from a different angle.

all the depths of me, real by northofallmusic (Wangxian, E, 15k)

Wei Wuxian is dealing with a curse a little worse than he'd like to let on, and Lan Zhan is a little less than willing to let it slide.

Another “what if they just fucked in the show” fic, this time set when WWX has the curse on his leg and Wangji has to carry him back to the inn. 

Every Day, Learning More by phnelt (Wangxian, E, 6k)

The pink was high on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. “I mean I haven’t been able to… that I can’t. Not without you.”

Lan Wangji stared. “In this body, the whole time you’ve had it -- you’ve never…”

Wei Wuxian kicked his heels into Lan Wangji’s back. “I just said that!”

I knew at least one of these was more book verse than show! WWX hasn’t been able to jerk off in his new body, LWJ helps him out :-)

the meaning of the ritual by newamsterdam (Wangxian, E, 8k)

“Lan Zhan… wants to bed me?”

The hand on his chest is shaking, slightly. “Mn.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breaths out.

There’s something— something powerful, about that. Lan Wangji wants to bed him. Lan Wangji wants to sleep with him. Lan Wangji wants to touch him, and kiss him. The immovable, implacable Second Master of Lan, with a face and principles both carved from jade, wants him.

“Is this a fantasy of yours?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Forcing all the demonic energy out of me with your—”

Lan Wangji claps a hand over his mouth. “Silence, now.”

When the entire cultivation world turns against the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian makes a risky gamble— he'll agree to participate in an ancient ritual for cleansing the spirit, so that his character can no longer be called into question. The catch? He has no idea who his partner for the ritual will be.

This is also book-verse! As the tag says “Let Lan Wangji Fuck the Yiling Patriarch”!!!!!!!!!!!

Hurricane by gdgdbaby (Wangxian, E, 6k) ***

"Haven't you heard?" Nie Huaisang replied, clicking his tongue, though he was clearly pleased that he could be the one to break the news. He leaned in to announce with a dramatic flourish: "Lan Wangji just took emergency family leave this past weekend."

WANGXIAN AS SPIRK STAR TREK PON FAR AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO!!!!!!!! This was actually recced to ME by CHI and I have not stopped thinking about this fic for a full month. It’s like author gdgdbaby sat down one day and was like “Tumblr user Liv Scottspack deserves everything she wants in this life.” and then wrote this fic. Thank you author gdgdbaby, I love you.

WORLD’S WORST THROUPLE (3ZUN)

The body is a blade by rheawrites (3zun, E, 2k) ***

In which Lan Xichen is taken by surprise, Nie Mingjue takes what he can get, and Meng Yao gets what he wants.

This was the first 3zun fic I ever read and whew baby, got it in one! It’s actually a slight AU but it gets their characterization so right and is a very fun read. One of those fics I go back to frequently because it does so much with so few words.

shang tiantang by fuckwarlock (3zun, E, 4k)

They wanted so much, and with the way A-Yao gasps at the saber-calloused hand unfastening his belts, he does, too. The night air twirls with the scents of osmanthus and cinnamon and melon. Lan Xichen smiles, leans in, and ghosts his lips over the crook of A-Yao’s neck. What kind of brother would he be if he didn’t give A-Yao what he wanted? “I think it’s your turn to ascend, A-Yao.”

The Venerated Triad celebrates the Mid-Autumn Festival the best way they know how.

Truly the only way the venerated triad works is if meng yao gets Destroyed :-)

Favour and Fate by soulgusttheguardian (3zun, E, 8k)

There have been times in Meng Yao’s life when he couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be in his current situation. Found himself reflecting on the choices leading up to whatever misfortune had befallen him that day, and pondering why fate hated him so.

Granted, there had also been times when he couldn't help but wonder just what he had done to earn the favour necessary to be rewarded with certain things...

The current situation he found himself to be in, however, was definitely the latter.

More of the same! Truly I personally can never get enough of the 3zun dynamic in smut fics its just too goddamn motherfucking GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!

the stars do not take sides by everyearning (3zun, E, 4k)

Mingjue isn’t sure he’s ever seen Xichen do anything other than treat the boy like a porcelain doll and it’s laughable to him, to think of Meng Yao as something breakable, instead of the sharp, deadly object he is.

Okay one last “Destroy Meng Yao” 3zun fic! Enjoy!

never as alive as we are right now by ThirtySixSaveFiles (3zun, E, 12k)

Three perspectives on three sworn brothers, at three different times in their relationship.

(Or, three times 3zun got it on and some of the feelings they had along the way.)

Wait actually I want to end the 3zun fics on this one because it has true Emotional Resolution at the end and I think they deserve a little healing.

BABY BOYS. BABIES. (THE JUNIORS)

A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui, T, 20k) ***

“And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

A MUST-FUCKING-READ!!! Jin Ling gets it in his head that as sect leader he should get married and sets his sights on Lan Sizhui. I cannot stress enough how FUCKING CUTE this fic is!!! Sizhui being the best boy! Jin Ling having more uncles than he knows what to do with! Jiang Cheng being the worst at relationship advice! It’s so fucking good it love it so much.

Anyway, Here’s Wuji by kakikaeru (Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, T, 18k)

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

A Jingyi-central fic about Jingyi growing up and falling in love and being a hero and being the second best boy of my heart right after Sizhui. Not only is this fic sweet and romantic but it’s another one that explores a lot of interesting things within canon and all of the supporting characters are written very well and are just as interesting as second best boy Jingyi.

Ok, JiuJiu by kakikaeru (Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, T, 16k)

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

A follow up fic to “Anyways, Here’s Wuji.” I LOVE the Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen dynamic of Jin Ling having been raised by Jiang “I keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die” Cheng AND being hopelessly charmed and smitten with Ouyang “President of the I Love Love Romance Novel Book Club” Zizhen! I LOVE IT! EXTREMELY CUTE!

Lan Sizhui's Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, T, 23k)

In which Jingyi is a little oblivious, Sizhui is patient (and should have said something in the beginning), and everyone else is resigned to watching them dance around each other for far longer than necessary.

(Or: five things Sizhui tries to do in his courtship, and the one time Jingyi realizes there was one happening in the first place.)

I’ll stop describing fics about the juniors as being “cute” when they stop being SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

His Merit All My Fear by violettressed (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, G, 16k)

It’s too late for any of Hanguang-Jun’s rabbits to be awake -- one of the sundown chores for young disciples is to herd them back into their hutch -- but the rabbit field is as good a spot as any for quality sulking, so Lan Jingyi makes his way there.

Someone has beat him to it.

Lan Jingyi stares at Hanguang-Jun. Hanguang-Jun stares passively back.

When Lan Sizhui is swept away with the Ghost General, off on a new adventure, Lan Jingyi is the one who returns to Cloud Recesses alone.

Not only another extremely cute Sizhui/Jingyi fic BUT one that includes a Wangji/Jingyi friendship??? Incroyable! *chefs kiss*

spirit running wild by idrilka (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, E, 17k)

He doesn’t know, exactly, when the friendship he shared with Sizhui over the years has changed into something that’s made Jingyi finally understand why Hanguang-Jun always wears that expression whenever he looks at Senior Wei. There hasn’t been one single moment that he can point to and say, yes, this is where it started, because the thing about falling in love with your best friend is that it happens gradually, until it’s impossible to tell which step has been the deciding one.

Jingyi goes to Baling with a crush.

Written by the same genius that wrote the first three fics I made you read so you know it’s good. Its truly the childhood best friends to lovers of it all! Sizhui is adorable and Jingyi is a mess! *muah!*

FAMILY FUN TIME (NO ROMANCE, JUST FEELS)

Grow by cafecliche (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 14k)

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

What I expected to be a goofy, silly fic turned out to be extremely emotional and made me FULLY CRY! It’s a very moving fic about Sizhui coming to understand himself and Wei Wuxian a lot better AND features all of the juniors arguing over who’s turn it is to hold 6 year old Wei Wuxian. A true win/win of a fic.

To The Act of Making Noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Lan Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

Another very moving and heartwarming fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui and Sizhui figuring out Wangji’s past and then eventually reconnecting with Wei Wuxian. It’s cute and soft and Sizhui is my best boy!

History (Proud To Call Your Own) by words-writ-in-starlight (Wen Ning, G, 5k)

“A-Yuan? Um—Lan-gongzi,” Wen Ning corrects, trying to set a good example. The children are young, seven and eight, exactly a dozen of them lined up in two crisp lines of tiny blue and white robes. Wen Ning can feel them staring at him, even though most of them have already mastered that Lan trick of neutrality. The smallest, a little girl with liquid dark eyes, is clinging to her nearest shijie’s sleeve and half-hiding. “Can I—what can I do for you?”

Wen Ning gets himself recruited for services, while he and Sizhui are visiting Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian gets a fan club.

Set in the same universe as “To The Act of Making Noise,” a very cute fic about Wen Ning finding his place in the post-canon world and being proud of Sizhui and being the world’s best substitute teacher. As the official Wen Ning Fan Club President, I had to include this.

the stone-filled sea by yukla (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 9k) ***

He forgets how quickly Wei-qianbei changes faces, sometimes. Like pulling a theater mask over a bruise—color over color, a diversion with the swipe of his hand.

Lan Sizhui navigates a world that hates his father, one endless wave at a time.

Oh man oh man. I will never get enough of the fics where Sizhui (and the rest of the juniors) get ANGRY on Wei Wuxian’s behalf!! That’s their dad and their teacher and their friend and they will DEFEND HIM!!! YEAH BAYBEEEEEEEEEE!!!

PICK & MIX (MISCELLANEOUS)

This Side of Paradise by greenfionn (Wei Wuxian/Wen Qing, E, 3k)

Wei Wuxian does some very quick math in his head that goes something like this: He is pretty sure he’s in love with Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan is not here and likely never will be here - Wen Qing is here, not to mention very hot and let us not forget, actually interested in sex with him - there’s a solid chance he goes genuinely crazy or dies, or both, in the next few months and really, who wants to die a virgin?

Listen.......the fic premise is “Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, noted bisexuals, figure life sucks enough at the Burial Mounds, they might as well have any fun they can before they die” and........I Am Looking Directly At It. It features Wen Qing bossing Wei Wuxian around and Wei Wuxian’s canon he-wants-to-be-pregnant kink. It’s........I liked it.

palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, M, 15k) ***

The realization strikes Song Lan like a bolt of lightning: Xiao Xingchen laughs, and he wants with a sudden, stunning desperation to kiss the mirth from his beautiful mouth. How, precisely, he is meant to manage that—that, he has no idea at all.

Or: introspective meditations on touch, trust, and the problem of desire.

I Am Baby and for some reason cannot handle how sad the entire Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen storyline ended up so I rarely read songchen fics, and when I do they’re always soft pre-canon fics like this one. Luckily there are some very beautiful and moving pre-canon songchen fics!!! I love you fandom!!

purpose and ritual by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 8k)

Song Zichen has beautiful hands. He's a powerful swordsman, strong and skilled, unfairly impressive and unreasonably handsome. He is devoted and self-disciplined and he takes direction like a dream. And he doesn't touch people—no one at all, if he can help it, except for Xiao Xingchen.

The poets might call him a saint, but Xiao Xingchen is so very, very human.

More of the same :-)

born to sweet delight by la_dissonance (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 10k)

Xiao Xingchen lightly jumps into the center of the pool, the water a shock that cools his sticky, heated skin, and does nothing for the heat building inside him. When he surfaces, pushing the hair out of his face, he finds Song Lan's gaze and meets it. Between them, everything goes both ways. What Song Lan will offer, Xiao Xingchen will freely give too.

Or, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan meet, pledge their lives to each other, and then fall in love.

This is about the angstiest I will go for songchen and its still absolutely Baby Soft lmfao!!!!!!

Pin it down by rheawrites (Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixuan/Nie Mingjue, E, 2k)

“Yanli, I did not lie on our wedding night. You are the only woman I have gone to bed with. But… there was a man.”

“Oh?” Yanli blinks up at him. She does not appear horrified, or betrayed, which is surely a good sign.

Jin Zixuan swallows. “It was Sect Leader Nie,” he says quickly, as though that will make it easier.

“…Oh,” says Yanli, and her eyes are dark.

-

Jin Zixuan tells his wife a war story. Or, two thousand words of Jin Zixuan getting railed.

Have you ever looked at Jin Zixuan and been like “I bet that mf likes getting PEGGED!!!!!!!!” Well here’s the fic for you. 

*YIBO VOICE* DIDI LOVES YOU! (YIZHAN RPF)

never really over by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

The thing is: it would be good to see Xiao Zhan again — if Yibo could just trust himself to be normal.

Author gdgdbaby is the yizhan master, so here are five of my personal favorites of their fics, starting with this post-filming reunion fic that was the first yizhan fic I ever read and HIT real good after having just finished the show myself.

pedagogy by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 17k) ***

Yibo opens his mouth and says, "I want to learn," barreling past the rapid rise of Xiao Zhan's eyebrows. "To last longer. Will you teach me?"

Quick-fire Yibo comes too easily and Xiao Zhan helps train him to last longer :-)

you’re the reason that i just can’t concentrate by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

Xiao Zhan hears about it from Yu Bin, which probably should've been the first warning sign.

Yibo was only 20 when they filmed the untamed, which lends itself perfectly to fics like this.

a truth so loud you can’t ignore by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 5k)

It's their last day of filming in Hengdian when the secret comes out.

If yibo has to be a fictional virgin than SO DOES XIAO ZHAN!

if you would only let you by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 32k) ***

"Well?" Yibo demands. Past the severe frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, a flicker of the old him slips through, the persistent boy who shoved his way into Xiao Zhan's space without a second thought and made a home for himself there. "Are you coming or not?"

Xiao Zhan's heart twists. He forcibly settles it back in his chest. He's only told Yibo no once in his entire life, and it was already the hardest thing he's ever had to do. "Okay," Xiao Zhan murmurs, quiet but decisive, and thumbs his phone off. "Let's go."

Like I said, all gdgdbaby fics are incredibly good, super well written, and very hot, but this one does stand out from the bunch for being a Full Epic Romance! This is one of Chi’s favorite fics so that should speak to it’s quality!

baby, who’s counting by nobirdstofly (Yizhan, E, 12k)

Xiao Zhan gasps, trying to rein in another peal of giggles. “What do I owe you anyway?”

Yibo shrugs one shoulder, and his smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided.”

Xiao Zhan’s still staring at him, laughter gone in his dry throat, when he hears someone yell for a reset. Yibo’s eyes are so, so dark, and he hasn’t stopped watching Xiao Zhan this whole time. Xiao Zhan swallows, nods, and pushes every dirty thought out of his head.

(Or: Yibo bets Xiao Zhan he'll break first during a take, Xiao Zhan loses, and it's all downhill from there.)

Ah sex bets, who doesn’t love sex bets!

Mystery Dance by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 16k)

"That? That's your confession?" Yibo's toppled onto Xiao Zhan's side and is clutching his shoulder, trying not to fall over. "That's pathetic!"

"Oh, what, you can do better?" Zhuocheng is pretty flushed and there's a challenge in his voice that Yibo just can't walk away from.

"Hell yeah, I can. Hit me, Yu Bin." Yu Bin cheers and refills Yibo's shot glass. "All right!" Yibo downs the shot, gags only slightly, and says, "Everyone! I'm a fucking virgin!"

WHAT’S better than a Yibo virgin fic? A SECOND YIBO VIRGIN FIC!

This author also writes extremely good yizhan threesomes so here’s three of them!

Some Nights by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Xuan Lu (Jiang Yanli), E, 2k)

Xuan Lu opened her legs to him and Xiao Zhan wasted no time diving in. He pressed his mouth against her pussy, licking her out steadily as her thighs trembled around him. She was nestled between Yibo's legs and if Xiao Zhan looked up, not only could he see the planes of her body, her small breasts going up and down with her breathing, ribs expanding, her tipped back head and open mouth, but Yibo, gaze boring into Xiao Zhan's as he ate Xuan Lu out.

The entire cast is hot and there is no reason they shouldn’t ALL fuck! Not one reason!!!!!!

gege loves you by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Wang Zhuocheng (Jiang Cheng)), E, 7k)

"We are very sorry," Xiao Zhan murmured as he unbuttoned Zhuocheng's jeans while Yibo kissed his ear, "for how we've been acting."

"Is this how you apologize to everyone," Zhuocheng panted, hands already going for his zipper to help Xiao Zhan along, "or am I special?"

WHEW LORD!!!!!!!!! WHEW!!!!!!!

Talking in the Dark by mrsronweasley (Yizhan (Side Xiao Zhan/M/F), E, 14k)

Xiao Zhan has a light-hearted romp of a threeway with some friends, then makes the mistake of telling Yibo. It goes down.

A non-yizhan threesome BUT features jealous!yibo which is a ton of fun.

Finally, a couple AUs!

With Joy and Purpose by feenwitch (Yizhan, E, 30k) ***

Yibo has been alone for approximately five Earth years when Xiao Zhan crash lands on his planet.

YIZHAN ANDROID AU!!!!!!!! This is a very star trek-esque universe which is fun, but the fic itself is also CRAZY interesting and moving and beautiful!!!!!!!!! It’s A LOT! This was a rec from Nina, so thank you Nina!

Bound With a Same-Heart Knot by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 59k)

London, 1892. Xiao Zhan, a promising young attache at the Chinese embassy is tasked with showing the new ambassador's son Wang Yibo around London. The inevitable happens.

Victorian AU! I actually think you already read this, but included for posterity.

AND SCENE! This is the result of two months of daily fic reading, having 50 tabs of fic open at any given time, reading truly anything and everything, and Loving The Untamed. I’m SO EXCITED you’re diving into fic for this show and I can’t wait to talk to you about all of them and to have someone to scream with! WOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (7/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

a/n: I have been taking a little social media break and will continue to do so, but when I’ve got 90% of this story written (I really have to get to finishing it, haha), it felt wrong to keep it from you guys. So I’m slipping in and posting a new chapter! All my love ❤️

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

-/-

“Do you want some of my chips?”

“Hmm?”

“My fries,” Killian corrects. “Do you want some of them?”

“Is that rhetorical question?”

Killian sighs and rolls his eyes before pushing his basket of fries toward her. “Half the time that I offer you my fries, you say no because you’d rather have onion rings. Though, a part of me is surprised you haven’t simply taken over and started eating them without asking.”

Emma reaches over and picks up a fry, dipping it in the ketchup before popping it in her mouth. “Look, just because onion rings are obviously the superior side for junk food doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a well done French fry. And this? This is a well done fry. “Skipper barks at Emma’s feet. “See, Skipper agrees with me.”

“Skipper agrees because he wants you to feed him.”

“He can have my leftovers.”

“Bloody hell no he cannot.” Killian snatches the basket away from her. “I’m sharing my food. You hear that, Swan? It’s mine. You can’t be giving it away to the dog.”

“You should have gotten me some lunch, too.”

“I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“Did I not text you?”

“No, love, I don’t believe I got your booty call.”

Emma picks up another fry and points it in Killian’s face. “This is not a booty call. You’re working, and I’ve got work in thirty minutes. We’re taking the kids to do a relay race on the beach this afternoon, and I don’t think my body can take jumping out the window again.”

Killian chuckles and slides the basket of fries back to him. “I’m going to build you a ladder out of my bedroom.”

“I think that would be a little obvious.”

Killian shrugs. “So, a relay race with dozens of kids. Good to know that I need to avoid the beach.”

“You just wait until we do the weekend festival for Labor Day. Then you’ll really want to avoid the beach.”

“I already have it noted in my calendar.” Killian’s eyes glance up and down her face before landing down at the top of her shirt. The man can be as subtle as a whisper, but sometimes he doesn’t even try. “You know, I can do a lot in thirty minutes.”

Emma scoffs and keeps eating her fries. Okay, Killian’s fries, but he’s sharing so now they’re definitely hers. “I know you can, but I actually look presentable today, and I tend to look not presentable after, you know…”

“After I ravish you?”

Her stomach swirls, and the way Killian’s licking his lips certainly doesn’t help. They could go to the back office or go up to his bedroom right now. It wouldn’t be a big deal. She could let him do all the effort. And as much as she wants to, she really didn’t come here to have sex. 

Then again, she doesn’t know why she came here. There was no way she could know that he was going to have food.

Wait no. She came here because it’s been a week since she’s seen him, and she needed someone to complain to about this family that’s in town that takes up all of the booths at Granny’s at least twice a day. She doesn’t treasure much in her life, but she treasures her booth at Granny’s. 

But she’s gotten her complaining out, filled him in on everything she hasn’t texted him this week, and really, what else do they have to do?

“Where’s Liam?”

“He’s meeting with the harbormaster.”

Perfect. 

“Do not touch my hair,” she tells him. “You do all of the work.”

“Don’t I always do all of the work?”

She tosses a fry at him. He misses it, and Skipper gets up from his spot to get the food. “Considering the fact that I know you like me on top, I’d think not.”

“I also like you on your knees when – ”

The bell to the shop rings behind her, and Emma sees Killian’s face before she turns around. The smirk disappears, his lips falling into a flat line, and all of the mirth in his eyes vanishes along with the crinkles around his eyes. 

What the hell?

Is Liam back? She really hopes Liam isn’t back because she does not want to deal with his icy stares and snide comments today.

And then she turns around on the stool she’s sitting on, fry still in her mouth, and sees Isabella Greene. 

Oh wait, she went by Tink, didn’t she? Yeah, she definitely went by Tink, which is such an awful nickname, but that’s probably not what she should be focusing on. 

Emma’s stomach does that weird flipping thing again and she quickly chews the fry before pushing her hair off her shoulders and straightening her shoulders. What the hell is Tink doing here?

“Tink,” Killian whispers before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello, love. I didn’t – I didn’t know – ”

“You didn’t know I was coming back?”

“I thought you were in New York.”

“I am. I’m not here for the summer or anything. My dad didn’t rent out the house this week, so I’m here with a few friends for the week. You’re not renting out the boat are you?”

Killian can’t stop blinking, and Emma swears that if he didn’t have any semblance of self-control, his mouth would be wide open. 

“Let me check. I don’t think it is.” He turns to the computer, hits a few buttons, and Emma takes her eyes away from him to see Skipper walking toward Tink. Tink immediately bends down and scratches his head, murmuring toward him. “You should be good to take it out. It is rented for next weekend, so you’d have to return it by Thursday morning for maintenance.”

“We can do that. Do I need to fill out any paperwork?”

“It’s your dad’s boat, lass.”

“So that’s a no?” she laughs, and Emma swears the woman bats her eyelashes at Killian. 

Is batting eyelashes a real thing that works on men? She doesn’t think she’s ever attracted anyone by batting her eyelashes.

“That’s a no. You’ve still got the spare key, aye?”

“I do.”

“Then you’re all set.” 

Killian flashes his most charming smile, and Emma doesn’t know if she’s ever felt so invisible. Skipper isn’t even acknowledging her anymore, and Emma is about to demolish all of Killian’s fries in the span of two minutes. Maybe that’s why no one is acknowledging her. She’s some kind of fry hog.

“Thank you, Killian.” Tink leans over the counter in a move Emma’s seen a million times. Hell, she’s done it herself. That works a hell of a lot better than eyelashes. “If you want to grab dinner sometime, you have my number.”

Killian’s eyes finally glance at Emma, but it’s brief. If she hadn’t been paying attention to him, she wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Last time I checked, you had a boyfriend.”

“Last time I checked, that didn’t seem to bother you.”

Holy shit, the balls on this woman. 

Killian’s jaw clenches, and he’s definitely grinding his teeth now. This is not how she thought this conversation was going to go. She thought she was about to end up as a major third wheel when three minutes ago she was going to be the one with her shorts pulled down and Killian thrusting into her. 

But it would be fine if he wanted to sleep with his ex instead. Emma has purposely never learned about his flings, knowing they’re never going to last, but she knew Tink enough to recognize her and to know that if one of them was going to, it was going to be her. She had no idea why it ended, though, and now that she kind of does, she definitely feels like she shouldn’t be here.

Would it be more awkward to get up and leave right now or to stay?

Did Killian know Tink had a boyfriend when he was sleeping with her? Because if he did…oh fuck, if he did she might just have to punch him. She used to think things like that weren’t any of her business, but then Neal and Tamara happened and…no, she’s not going to go there. She hasn’t let her mind fully go there in the month that she’s been broken up with Neal, and she’s certainly not going to do it now. 

“Last time I checked,” Killian grits out, “I was unaware of your attachment.”

Oh. 

“He and I were on a break then.”

“Are you now?”

Tink clicks her tongue. “We’re having some issues.”

Oh God, this really is the most awkward Emma has felt in years, and an entire town knows her boyfriend cheated on her and stares at her every time she walks down Main Street. It may have been a month, but the news just broke last week. It has been like reliving it all over again. 

At least she hasn’t seen Neal. She’s avoided him at all costs. 

Maybe not having her regular seat at Granny’s is a good thing.

“Return the boat by nine on Thursday, Ms. Greene. Have a good week with your friends.”

Tink scoffs, her lips parting, and she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.

Oh shit, Jones. That was bold. 

And then Tink is turning around and walking out the door, the bell ringing behind her. 

Emma doesn’t know what to say. Does she say anything at all? What can she say? She just witnessed something she definitely wasn’t supposed to see, and she is not good enough with emotions to be able to deal with this. 

Where’s Mary Margaret and her emotional intelligence when Emma needs her?

Even if Emma wants to strangle Mary Margaret half the time when she’s giving some unrealistic perspective on love and relationships. 

She could use some of that right now. 

“How much time do we have until you have to be at work?” Killian asks as he stands from behind the desk. 

“Um, twenty minutes now.”

He tilts his head back toward the office before walking past her and flipping the sign on the door over. “That’s enough time, don’t you think?”

There’s fury in his eyes, and he’s never looked taller to her than he does right now as he looks down at her with his jaw so tight she can see it clenching. He’s angry, she realizes. He’s angry that Tink came in here and tried to start something back up. She has never taken him for the type to get angry about something like that. He’s Killian. He’s got a hell of a temper, gets pissed off when he sees some kind of injustice happening, but he’s always been easygoing when it comes to relationships. 

Maybe she really doesn’t know him as well as she thought. 

Or, at least, maybe she doesn’t know this facet of his life. 

“That’s enough time.”

Killian grabs her hand and pulls her up from her chair. She nearly stumbles, but his grip is strong enough to keep her steady. They walk quickly out of the front office and to the back, where Killian quickly closes the door and turns the lock before he’s on her, caging her in and hovering his lips right over hers while his hands push against the wooden frame. His breathing is so heavy, his chest heaving, and she’s so distracting by it that she barely notices the way her own chest is moving up and down with anticipation. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know,” Killian whispers into her ear. His breath is hot as it tickles down her skin. “I’ve thought that since the day we met, but I’ve never been able to tell you the way that I wanted to.”

“You definitely could have.”

“Aye, but you wouldn’t have taken it well.”

“Who says I’m taking it well now?”

Killian laughs into her neck while he rolls his hips into hers. Emma gasps as heat curls between her thighs, licking across her skin. Her heart is pounding, and her head is still reeling. She wasn’t expecting this, then she was, and it’s been back and forth so quickly that maybe she should stop thinking all together. 

Hell, she definitely should. 

Not thinking means she doesn’t have to focus on the big demons in her head or the smaller ones that are telling her that sleeping with Killian might not be her best idea. 

Not thinking means that she can let Killian run his lips across her neck before his teeth tug down on her earlobe. The moment he figured out that she liked that, she was a goner. 

The moment they first did this, she was a goner for the way that it feels and the way that she can only focus on the feel of his lips and his hands and of every inch of him covering her. Killian keeps rolling his hips into her, and the friction of the zipper on his jeans his hitting just the right spot. 

“Shit,” Emma mumbles as her head tilts back to hit against the door. “Take off your pants.”

“A little busy at the moment, love.”

Suddenly, she notices that his hands are at her waist and fumbling with the zipper on her shorts. She hears it slide down, feels Killian push her shorts and her underwear down, and then his hands are on her exactly where she wants him. 

Well, almost. They’re on a bit of a time crunch, so they don’t exactly have time to take it slow. 

Her hands reach between them as Killian’s lips fiercely press into hers. He’s determined with each slide of his lips and swipe of his tongue. There’s no laziness or slow exploration, and as much as she likes that, this feels too damn good to stop. 

His hand stops hers, and she pulls back from the kiss. “What are you doing?”

“Let me take care of you.”

“What about – ”

“We’ll make up for it at some other time, yeah?”

Emma pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and swallows the lump in her throat. She’s so damn frustrated right now that she can’t imagine saying no. 

Not that Killian lets her. His determination continues as he bends down until he’s on his knees and his hand and his lips are working her higher and higher until air is escaping her so that it’s difficult to breathe. Fuck, he’s good at this, and she doesn’t want it to stop. 

Pretty much ever.

“Just like that,” Emma groans as her head tilts back to the door. Her knees are getting a little weak, her legs shaking, and she reaches forward to curl her fingers into his hair. “Oh, fuck.”

Her releases crashes over her in small waves, and her legs shake a little more until Killian’s free arm wraps around her and holds her up, pressing her further back into the door. There’s sweat prickling at her temples, and her heart is definitely going to do something unnatural that’s going to put her in the hospital.

She would rather die than tell Whale that she’s in the hospital because of an orgasm. 

Damn. Just damn. 

“Swan, if you don’t release my hair soon, I’m going to have a bald spot.”

Emma blinks and releases her hand from Killian’s hair, smoothing it down as he helps tug her shorts up. Slowly, he stands from the ground until they’re almost eye-to-eye, and the idiot has the biggest smirk on his face. 

At least he’s no longer furious. 

“Hey,” Emma hesitates, “so about earlier with Tink – ”

“That’s a story for another time,” he quickly interrupts as he scratches behind his ear. “Why don’t you go to the restroom and straighten yourself up? Wouldn’t want any of the kids asking why you look a wee bit off.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. I’ll go do that.”

Killian’s not in the main part of the office when she finishes up in the bathroom. Skipper is still sitting behind the desk, but she barely looks up when Emma walks by.

Huh. 

She’d go upstairs and look for him, but she really had to go and get to work. Mary Margaret will kill her if she’s late, and she’d really rather not be murdered, especially since David will definitely cover things for Mary Margaret.

It’s not a long walk to the club, so Emma’s still the slightest bit shaky when she gets there. Mary Margaret, Ashley, and Aurora are all there and wrangling kids, each of them in matching t-shirts to coordinate teams. Emma’s the green team, and her kids look like they’ve gone crazy with the way they’re running around. 

No wonder their parents pay an exuberant amount of money to leave their kids with someone else while they lounge on the beach or work from home while indulging in as many margaritas as possible. 

Emma always wonders if these kids care that they don’t spend time with their parents or if they’re too young to truly realize it at the moment. 

“Why do we do this?” Emma asks as she walks up to the deck. 

“Because we like paychecks.”

“And the children,” Mary Margaret adds in with a bright smile on her face.

“You should have been a teacher, Marg.”

“If I had gone to school, maybe I would have. This pays better, though, and like Ashley, I’m about the paycheck.” Her eyes narrow at Emma. “Did you walk here from your apartment? Your cheeks are flushed.”

“It’s a hot day and I haven’t gotten my tan yet. That’ll happen. You guys ready to go?”

The kids end up loving the relay race. 

It’s exhausting, overwhelming, and Emma ends up was an ass full of sand. But it’s so damn fun that Emma doesn’t really care about the craziness of the kids or the way that they didn’t filled up on sugar beforehand. 

Okay, she cares a little bit. 

But by the time they’re finished, the kids are all exhausted, and Emma and Mary Margaret send them back to the kid’s clubhouse with Ashley and Aurora while the two of them go back to their offices and catch up on emails and phone calls before opening up wedding files for all of their couples this summer. They’ve got a weddings and rehearsal dinners almost every weekend until the middle of September, and right there on the middle weekend is Liam and Elsa’s wedding. They’d wanted to do Labor Day, but that was impossible with the party the club does and all of the town’s labor day weekend festivities. Everything was booked, and there was no way Emma or Mary Margaret could have been there as guests even if they squeezed them into a ballroom. 

Elsa said there was no way she wasn’t having the two of them there. Liam would probably not want Emma there, and she swears there was disappointment on his face when they found another weekend.

Ass. 

Emma has to take a deep breath and close her eyes as she looks at her calendar. It’s too much looking this far ahead. It’s too much, and she desperately needs to zoom back in and be a little more narrow-sighted. 

She can do this. 

She’s handled a hell of a lot of stuff that’s been more difficult than this job. 

And this is a job. It’s good pay and stable. She loves her coworkers, and she doesn’t actually mind dealing with wealthy people all day or her awful boss or couples who are way too into each other planning their weddings. 

She hasn’t been bitter about people getting married and her having to plan it for the entire time she’s worked here, and she’s certainly not going to be bitter about it now because she broke up with Neal. In the back of her mind, she used to hope and wish and maybe…but no. She’s never needed that kind of commitment. If you love someone and want to be with them, you make the commitment and you stay. It doesn’t matter if there’s a piece of paper legalizing that commitment. 

Not that Neal was committed. 

Obviously not. 

“Hey, this says you have tomorrow off,” Mary Margaret says as she looks at Emma from over the top of her computer.”

Emma blinks and shakes her head before pushing her hair back in its ponytail. “I worked Monday this week, so I took tomorrow off to make up for it. I’ll be back to our normal schedule next week.”

“Oh, good, because David was thinking of us hosting a barbecue next Saturday.”

“Next Saturday is Killian’s birthday.”

“Oh shit. Is it?”

“Mhm.” Emma rolls her chair across the office to the mini fridge to grab her bottle of water. “So, unless you want to have the barbecue be his party, I think it’s going to have to be another day.”

“I’ll text Liam and ask if they have any other plans.”

“Why not ask Killian? It’s his birthday?”

“Oh, good point. I guess it’s not a surprise. It’ll have to be late since we all work on Saturdays.”

“Supply us all with coffee and alcohol, and I think we’ll all be able to stay awake.”

“Perfect.”

-/-

When Emma finally gets to leave at nine that night, she’s starving. She didn’t get the chance to sneak into the kitchen and steal some food for dinner, and she’d do awful things for a grilled cheese from Granny’s. Emma makes them at home all the time, but it’s never quite the same. After getting her car out of the parking lot for the public beach, she back downtown to, passing by the packed Rabbit Hole and pulling into Granny’s parking lot only to realize whose car she’s parked next to. 

What the hell?

No. Just no. 

She is not going in there are dealing with him tonight. Ruby said he’d been hanging around a lot to spend time with Tamara, but Emma thought that was Ruby overexaggerating. Emma hasn’t run into him once, but here he is. 

Fuck. 

Emma leans down to rest her head against her steering wheel before slowly peaking back up. Neal is right in front of her. He’s sitting in a booth with his dad, Tamara next to him, and Emma nearly vomits at the smiles on all of their faces. 

That’s not supposed to be happening.

Tamara is just supposed to be the girl he’s fucking. She’s not supposed to be someone who he’s smiling with and who his dad has dinner with. 

Emma barely ever did that. 

She didn’t want to. She didn’t trust his dad. She still doesn’t. He’s not a good guy, he creeps Emma out, and she didn’t want to get anywhere near him if his pawn shop does end up being as shady as everyone thinks. 

She worked too damn hard to have good things in her life to get pulled down by association. 

What the hell is Neal doing? 

Was it…did he have feelings for Tamara while he was still with her? Was it more than just someone to sleep with? Because Emma could deal with it when it was just physical. She could push past that. Hell, she did while she still stayed with him. If it was more, though, she’s not sure that she’s up for that.

From the way that her heart is pounding, she knows that she isn’t, that it was more between the two of them.

Fuck. 

Emma slaps her hand down, and the horn on her bug goes off. 

No.

No, no, no, no, no. 

She quickly ducks down and hides herself. They’ve got to be looking out at the parking lot, and maybe if they don’t see her in the car, they won’t think it was her. Her car isn’t exactly inconspicuous, but someone else could drive the same way. The place is full of tourists and outsiders right now. The odds of someone else driving a bright yellow bug have to be pretty good. 

Or maybe he’ll think that she’s at the Rabbit Hole but that parking was full so she put her car over here. 

Or maybe he’ll know that it’s her and that she’s currently hiding in her own car as if she was the one who ruined her relationship. 

What the hell is she doing hiding from him? He should be the one hiding from her, not sitting in her favorite restaurant eating with his dad. 

Of course, Tamara does work there, and it’s not like Emma can get the woman fired. 

Or could she?

No, that’s wrong. Tamara knew Neal was with Emma, but it’s all on Neal. She’s not going to be the girl who blames the other woman and not the scumbag man. 

She’s also not going to be the girl who goes inside the restaurant when she’s had a long day and doesn’t want to fake pleasantries or be the talk of the town’s gossip mill tomorrow. As quietly as she can, Emma turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot without looking back at Granny’s. That way she’ll never know if Neal saw her or not, and that’s the only thing that will keep her sane. 

She ends up driving in circles around Storybrooke and goes through a drive-thru to get herself a cheeseburger. It’s not the same as going to Granny’s, but it’s good for now. Really, she should go home, clean up a little bit, and go to bed, but she can’t seem to bring herself to. Instead she uses up half a tank of gas aimlessly driving while trying to control her breathing. It’s pretty much a lost cause when each breath is shallower than the next and soon she finds herself in a service station parking lot with her phone in hand typing out a text she definitely shouldn’t be typing out. 

He answers back within a few minutes, and his car is pulling up next to hers a quarter of an hour later. He’s silent as he slides into the passenger seat, but she appreciates that. She’s not really sure what she wants to say. 

Instead she stares at the tattoo inked across his forearm. 

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. 

She’s always liked that tattoo of his. It’s mixed within all the angry red scars that map out his skin, and there’s something beautiful about the words coexisting with proof of an accident. Maybe one day she’ll hear the story, but for now, all she knows is those words. 

Emma’s not sure if she’s getting to fail better or if it’s just the same thing over and over again. 

Killian’s slushie is half empty by the time she finally speaks. 

“I’m sorry about Tink showing up at your office earlier.”

“It was nothing.”

“Superpower,” Emma murmurs. “And I don’t even need it to tell that’s a lie.”

“I apologize for how I acted afterward. I shouldn’t have…hell, Emma, I shouldn’t use you like that.”

She twists in her seat and turns toward him, resting her cheek against the headrest. “We’re using each other physically. We both know that.”

Killian nods and mimics her movement. “Aye, I know, but on occasion, when I have the chance to think, I realize that sometimes I can be too gruff and too impulsive. Our friendship is first, and I sometimes forget that when I need to release some of the tension.”

“I don’t mind. I promise. I’m the same way. It’s why this is working.”

“What happened tonight that you called me here? It’s nearly midnight.”

“We’ve been here at three in the morning before. Midnight is nothing.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it just as quickly faltered. “Swan.”

It’s so simple, the way he says he last name so frequently, but he could get her to tell him just about anything just like that. 

“What did I do wrong to make Neal cheat on me? I know we had drifted apart at the end, that we weren’t sleeping together as much, but I still didn’t…the thought never crossed my mind to cheat on him. And when I found out about it the first time, I let it go. I figured it was physical. But he’s in a relationship with her, and for some reason that makes it all worse.”

So, she went there. Finally. And she doesn’t know whether or not it feels better to get it all off her chest. 

“The first problem, love, is thinking there’s any fault of your own.” Killian reaches forward and tucks her hair behind her ear before swiping his thumb across her cheek. “As much as Neal had his moments, I thought he was an asshole. You have always deserved better than someone who puts your down and who betrays your trust like he did. It hurts like hell to be betrayed like that, but you’re going to be better for it.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

Emma blinks and closes her eyes as she makes another attempt to calm her breathing. “Is that how you felt with Tink?”

His tongue clicks. “I had feelings for her, but it wasn’t like it was for you and Neal. Most of the betrayal there was because of something in my past.”

“Oh?”

“Aye, but that’s a story for another time.” His hand runs along her neck until she can feel him gently tugging on some of the strands on her ponytail. “I’m actually a bit glad to see that you’re upset over Neal.”

She opens her eyes then. “You’re glad to see I got my heart broken?”

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat and tries to keep her eyes focused on Killian’s, but his stare is so intense that she squirms and looks down back at his arm and at all of the ink that scatters his skin. It’s safer there. He can’t read her as easily. He’s always been able to do that and has called her out on her shit when he needs to, and she usually appreciates it. 

She doesn’t know what she thinks right now. 

“Sometimes I don’t want it to work,” she quietly admits as cars keep driving by the two of them, headlights brightening before fading away. 

“But it does, love, and I swear to you, one day you’ll want it to again.”

-/-

-/-

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[comatosestory]

Chapter 2: Echoes

Tessere, 3046

       It had been a week since Viktoria had suddenly awoken on Tessere, the  steamy, dark, dreary world before her. It had been a world formerly of valleys, rivers,  towering cities and prosperity. She had learned through Unit 312 however  that this all came to a crashing end around a month ago. She was no  longer in the year 2026, rather the year 3046. Humanity had long  transcended from its cradle on Earth, soaring through the stars, forming  a single, galaxy wide nation. The human population was estimated to be  approaching one trillion individuals spread across the Milky Way and the  Large Magellanic Cloud, climbing rapidly each day. Old Earth languages  had long since faded away into memory, spoken only by a few stubborn  rural areas of the most isolated colonies in the galaxy. However, 10  years ago, Humanity had awoken something, a race commonly referred to as Demons.  Despite the vastness of the galaxy, this was humanities first encounter  with intelligent life beyond that of their own making. A far-off world  in the Large Magellanic Cloud, known to many as Golgotha, a barren red  desert with small patches of lifeforms scattered across the wasteland.  Ruined cities, hundreds of thousands of years old were scattered across  the world. When the first Human colony ships had landed, the skies  quickly blackened and red tinted skies overtook the region. As the  settlers wizened to the seemingly cursed world and tried to escape, their ships were sent hurtling into the  mountains, seemingly possessed by paranormal forces. The last survivors  sent a transmission warning never to return to the world, documenting  what had happened. Before the transmission ended, loud screams,  emanating from a creature, a demon, bellowed, as the last of the  colonists were quickly slaughtered.

Humanity had heeded this warning, prepping to lay waste to the world as a precaution. Before they could however, hundreds of nearby colonies in the region went dark; the first of thousands of worlds to succumb to the ruthless, genocidal scourge they faced. Humanity prepared for war, sending every available force to take back what was lost. What they faced was annihilation. While weapons were capable of killing demons, nothing short of nuclear weapons was effective in cleansing local demon forces.

Unit 312 took great care to teach Viktoria as much as it knew of the demons. "Danglers are essentially cannon fodder for the demons, however are significantly more terrifying than such comparison suggests. up to seven feet tall, bearing two large, thorny tentacles used to clutch victims before crushing them to death, or sometimes consuming them whole."

"Stalkers are tall, lanky demon forms found in late stages of an invasion. They scan the environment for any survivors, and hunt them down, often impaling prey with their sharp forearms." While other forms were known to exist, none had been encountered, or at least no one had survived one to report it.

       Viktoria had spent the last week learning of all these details, aided by Unit 312. Uni, her nickname for Unit 312, had been  learning to speak Albanian more fluently, picking up on Viktoria's  mannerisms and structure. The distant castle she saw beyond the canyon  had been stocked with food, and as she discovered, was the centerpiece of  a decimated theme park. A small military base located a block away had supplies  of armor and rifles, untouched from the invaders. Veronika had learned  of Uni's past, constructed about 5 years ago to interact and help  Tesserians in the event of a demon invasion. The invasion came, but it  was far too massive for Uni and her fellow AI's to contain. Millions of  people were killed in the onslaught, many thrown into pits such as the  one Veronika had the misfortune of encountering. Veronika told Uni her   upbringing, speaking wonders of her past, life in her home country, her 4  siblings and family. She wanted to see them again so badly, but she   knew she couldn't. Not yet. Her life as a bartender was boring, but it   paid the bills, so she did what she had to.

       For the time being, everything had been calm. No demons had been  encountered yet, and Veronika had been able to scavenge for various tools,  even donning a rudimentary suit of armor she found. Steadily, she had been building   endurance to run faster, farther, hit harder. She was preparing to fight  for her life in an environment that no human had survived. The demons were capable of killing billions of people, but Veronika was determined  not to be among them.

       From nowhere, the sounds of crying echoed from overhead.  Deafeningly loud distant weeping, almost as though the skies were the  source of the despair. Her rifle made sparks as it dragged along the  stone, Veronika pulled the rifle into her arms with near perfect form.  She had to give Uni credit, for a machine it knew how to train a fighter  in short time. Stepping outside the ruined hut she and Uni had lived in  the past week, she began to recognize the sounds. Uni began speaking,  but she ignored it. Her sister. Those tears were those of her sisters.

       She began to speak, "Veronika, if you can hear me, just know  that we love you, we love you so much. Just wake up. Please..." Another  voice, this time an unfamiliar one. "Given we don't know what had  happened, we can't be sure of when she will wake up. Besides being  unable to wake up, we believe she is perfectly healthy. Analyzing her  mental activities shown she's been under a great deal of stress,  especially the first few days, but..." the voices faded.

       "No, Lara? LARA! I CAN HEAR YOU! Please! Please..." Veronika  screamed to the looming clouds overhead. More tears ran down her face.  She had lost all emotions since the first night, and the pressing  reminder than her family needed her left her shattered even more than  she already was. She fell to her knees, dropping the rifle to the  ground.

       "Veronika, what is it? You must remain silent, they may hear  you!" Uni spoke from behind her. Veronika stopped, staring at the skies  waiting for a response to her cries, but none came.

       "My... My sister, I heard her... I think, I'm in a coma?" She  furiously began pinching herself, only to find that she felt every grasp  at her own skin. If she wasn't dreaming, then what was that?

       "Uni, what is happening to me?" She asked, staring into Uni's single eye.

       "I cannot say for sure. From what I have learned from you,  you aren't from this time, as your primary language has been extinct for  centuries. Logically, you shouldn't even exist in this time period."

       Uni's words did not bring Veronika comfort, because no amount  of logic could explain her being where she is. And even if it could,  there's no reason she should hear her family weeping over her comatose  body back in Albania, a thousand years in the past. Her mind tore itself apart  for answers, but none came to her.

       She pulled herself together, just as a distant roar echoed from the forest.

       "What the hell was that?" Veronika hesitantly asked.

"They know we're here, we have to go now!"

Viktoria had her rifle in hand now, readying herself for a potential firefight. Her blood ran cold with fear, but she didn't let it stop her from escaping what would be certain death. Scrambling to her feet, Viktoria and Uni sprinted, or floated in Uni's case, away from the campsite they had built. Either way, this was troublesome, as the Demons would know that someone was here and alive. The world, as Viktoria would come to know, was terraformed in a matter of weeks to better suite the presence of Demons. Humans by this point had all but been wiped away from the world.

"We need to find a place to hide, we are in no shape to fight any demon!" Uni said, her robotic voice filled with urgency. Viktoria silently nodded, and the pair began to make their way towards a former neighborhood. They were probably 20 kilometers from where Viktoria had woken up by this point, having traveled the vast majority of it within the past few days. They could see the former capital city of the world, which was surprisingly lucky for Viktoria given the circumstances, as it meant the chances of finding more resources. They sprinted into a house, finding the door broken in and the furniture torn to shreds. Glass shards scattered across the floor, the tiles in the floor either cracked or torn out by the Demons. Despite occurring mere weeks ago, the house looked as though it had been abandoned for years.

Descending into a wine cellar in the house, they found three bodies lie torn to shreds, dried blood splattered across the room. In that moment, this is not what surprised them. One of the bodies was that of a Demon.

"It's dead." Uni said, analyzing the Demon. Viktoria covered her mouth, choking down the urge to vomit once more. She examined the dead being, finding it vaguely human. It's skin was a burgundy color, bumpy, and covered in small horns across the skin. The being had no eyes, instead being reliant on its keen sense of smell and hearing by the looks of it. A glowing necklace hung from the being, barely scraping the surface of the floor. Viktoria cautiously approached the being, carefully removing the pendant from the monster. As she grabbed the jewel, a surge of energy flowed through her, she felt a surge of power flow through her. Her eyes flashed with energy, seeming to glow, she swore she could see the world around her as though she were a deity. She felt the urge to throw the necklace around her head, and in pulling the small chain around her hair, she felt the energy weaken slightly, but remain. Her eyes cleared up, and she glanced at Uni, who stared back at Viktoria. Or were they speaking?

"Viktoria! You're alright, good. You must be more careful! You can't just wear any piece of jewelry you find, especially not one you found on a Demon!"

"I... I think it did something to me Uni. I feel less tense, I feel some surge of energy. Can you check and make sure nothing bad is happening, because I think this might have been what allows for Demons to be so unusually powerful. I almost feel like this may be the source of their strength" Viktoria calmly said.

"You're fine, I can sense that power you mentioned. I can't make sense of where it comes from, however. Try a few things, see what you can do with it." Uni said, looking as relieved as a machine with a single glass eye can be.

"Alright, here goes nothing... FIRE!" She shouts, pointing her palm at the wall. Nothing happens. "Alright, not magic it seems" she thinks to herself. She closed her eyes and focused, focusing on the power flowing throughout her body. It seemed to intensify, growing stronger each moment she sat idle. Snapping her eyes open, she found herself falling to the floor.

"Ow? What the hell?" Viktoria, patting her side loudly said.

"You were floating! I can't believe it, you were floating Viktoria!" Uni excitedly shouted.

Viktoria concentrated, trying the move again. This time, she felt herself rise from the floor, she cautiously opened her eyes, trying her best to maintain focus. She was about half a meter above the floor, her feet hanging idly from her ascended body.

"Fire." She said, once again pointing her palms towards the wall. A ball of fire appeared in front of her palm, and flew at the wall, flames quickly spreading then quickly flickering out. She carefully let herself float down, gently settling back on her feet. Grinning at Uni, Viktoria felt something she hadn't felt in weeks- Hope.

"Let's go. We have a world to save."

[damienthepious]

this has been a difficult week! also for the bouquet here whoops.

Going Through Changes, Ripping Out Pages (chapter 6)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ao3] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, (uhhhhh sorta), Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (WE WILL GET THERE…… EVENTUALLY)

Summary: Lord Arum wakes to discover that some things have changed while he slept. Namely, there is a human in his bed.

Chapter Summary: There are some tried and true methods, when it comes to curse-breaking.

Chapter Notes: this chapter beat me up out by the dumpsters. but hey! happy LKT! ;3c

~

Arum brings them to his workshop. Rilla isn't sure if she should be more relieved or worried about that, but the fact that the room looks turned over is leaning her more towards the second option.

"Okay," she says slowly as he leans against one of the worktables (his own, she notes) and stares at the both of them with an edge of suspicion. "You want us to convince you. How exactly can we do that?"

"What will it take for you to believe us?" Damien echoes, his voice a little uneven.

Arum wrinkles his snout, but he doesn't quite look angry, now. Mostly he just looks uncomfortable.

He reaches and lifts one of her recorders from on top of a small pile of blueprints, scrawled over in his handwriting as well Rilla's, and he frowns lightly as he fiddles with the controls until he plays the entry he's apparently interested in.

Research log, Entry 4485. We're going to need to adjust the dosage slightly on the treatment regimen we've worked out for the Keep. Its reaction has been positive, and it certainly seems like we're making strides helping it recover from the long-term damage sustained from the Moonlit Hermit incident, but it's experiencing some side effects and I think we can work out a better ratio that should prevent the added drowsiness and pseudo-cramping while still helping to restore its structural awareness and reduce the internal scarring. I think our best bet is-

Arum stops the recording, still frowning, and then he meets Rilla's eyes.

"I thought you said that we solved the illness afflicting my Keep," he mutters, though he still doesn't sound angry.

"We did," she clarifies. "But by the time we did solve it, the Keep had been suffering from sleep deprivation - you had too, by the way - and a magically modified fungal infection so bad that it was nearly necrotic for something like two weeks at least. We figured out the problem, but that doesn't mean that the Keep didn't take some long-term damage in the meantime. And even after that-" she laughs, helplessly, "after that, the fear monster set the entire swamp off, so it's not like the poor thing got a break before you and Marc and it had to struggle through a full-blown assault."

"Marc," Arum hisses, looking away. "The Keep mentioned another… hrm."

"Is this… does this have any particular bearing on our current situation?" Damien asks, his tone very careful, and Arum sighs.

"The pieces of this obnoxious puzzle seem to be falling into place," he says slowly, grudgingly. "And the pieces seem to… corroborate a certain version of the events of the last year."

"A certain version?" Damien echoes, his hands clasping in front of his chest.

Arum sighs again, his snout wrinkling before he looks up towards them. "Your version. Which-" he waves a hand in front of himself when Rilla and Damien glance towards each other in surprise. "Do not misunderstand. Your story is still ridiculous, and I still do not understand, and everything you have so far claimed is decidedly in the realm of the impossible. But-" he grimaces, and then he reaches for the recorder again. "But I am… I am more aware than most," he grumbles, "that the impossible is perfectly within reach. For me, at the least."

He presses down the button, and a different entry plays. Rilla doesn't remember exactly when this one is from (she records her logs so thoroughly so she doesn't need to keep that information in her head, honestly), but she can hear from the very first word that she's completely exhausted in the recordin.

-ter version of the salve. The last three trials have completely tanked, and until I can get my hands on some mo-

She interrupts herself, the edges of a wide yawn crackling through on the tape.

- more, Saints. More of that specific subspecies of dayshade, which is a pain in the ass to source, I'm limited in the number of trials I can actually do. I've got maybe enough for… four more attempts? So I need to pick just four formulas to try and just hope that one of them-

A rustle and a gasp, and then Arum's low rumbling laughter on the recording.

Sneaking up on me again, Arum-

I do not think I could have approached you in any other way, Amaryllis. You have apparently been utterly single-minded on this task since sundown. You … you aren't avoiding sleep again, are you?

No. No, I just- lost track of the time. Is it actually that late?

If you go to sleep right now, you might just pass Damien as he wakes.

A laugh, Rilla's own this time, and then another rustle that ends in a soft hum.

So what are you doing awake, then?

Looking for you, of course.

Another laugh, bright and warm, and Arum looks away from the device with his frill flared high.

Arum-

Come to bed, little doctor. It is … it is never quite warm enough without you.

Alright, okay, okay you big- oh. Whoops. Experiment will continue tomorrow, I guess? End of log.

Arum clicks the button, preventing the device from playing the following log, and then he swallows and frowns even more deeply before he meets Rilla's eyes again.

"Evidence," he hisses. "Everywhere I look, every stone I turn. The pair of you have sunk your roots in here, however you've done it, and… and I know my own voice. I know- I can recognize-"

He snaps his teeth together, and then he exhales a hiss between them.

"I do not understand how. But the pair of you are apparently a part of this. Part of the life that this-" he pats his own chest, his lower hands with the dulled claws thumping off of his scales, "this version of myself has built, over the year that has been stolen from me. I cannot… I cannot imagine that the both of you are… are such impeccable liars as would be required for this to be…" he clenches his teeth, eyes flicking back and forth as he searches for the words.

"Arum," Damien murmurs, and the monster's frown eases, just barely.

"I am beginning to think," Arum says slowly, "that this curse was meant to harm you, just as much as it was meant to harm me."

Rilla can't help the relief, can't help the way her shoulders sag, and Damien clings to her arm. Arum watches them both, but- he doesn't seem surprised by their reaction.

"If- if that was the intent," Damien says breathlessly, "I think it is safe to say it quite succeeded."

"Hm," Arum says, and it sounds a little bit like an agreement.

Rilla, for her part, is running back through exactly what Arum just said, because-

"Wait. You said- curse?"

Arum's frill settles, and he turns, jerking his shoulder to motion the pair of them closer.

"You said before that you do not believe I have had any correspondence with the monster Senate since… since almost the time that I can remember currently. I've found some evidence to the contrary. Look."

He gestures, and Rilla looks past him to see the carefully reconstructed remains of the letter.

She steps closer, and Arum rattles uncomfortably as she and Damien read through what they can. Damien's breath goes sharp, and Rilla needs to read it three times, because she's almost too angry to internalize the words on the first two tries.

"You are going to destroy them," Damien echoes, his horror completely clear in his tone. "They thought- they wanted you to kill us. They thought that you would-"

"I nearly did," Arum murmurs, his tail flicking irritably. "They certainly wanted me to. Or, failing that, they believed that one of you would kill me. I find myself far less favorable towards that first idea now that I know I was being manipulated into it. I am the puppet of no creature, no matter how much of my mind has been scraped away."

"So you think-" Rilla cuts off, the anger flaring again. "So they cursed you. That's what you think this is?"

"That would not be unheard of, for a punishment laid down by the Senate," he murmurs, looking away.

"This… this is because of us, then," Damien says quietly, blankly. "It is our fault, that they have done this to you."

Rilla jerks her head to the side to look at Damien, biting his lip and pressing a hand over his heart in obvious despair, and she opens her mouth to deny it, but Arum gets there first.

"I would say, little knight, that if the Senate did this to me, it is their fault." He growls lightly, tapping his claws off the table beside the remains of the letter. "Besides, did we not just agree that this was meant to harm you as well? Now that we have at least some hint as to what has caused this debacle, we can begin to take steps towards reversing it."

"You have an idea, then?"

"I have several," he grumbles, and then his chest puffs up as he stands a bit straighter. "I have broken curses before. I will break this one as well," he says. "Keep. The scroll room."

The Keep obeys without a please this time, and as the portal is forming beside the monster he turns to Rilla again.

"If you and I… perform research together, as is apparent from… the majority of this room, and from your notes as well as my own… I will allow you to assist me."

Rilla snorts a laugh, and then she takes Damien's hand. "I'm not your assistant," she says quickly as they step past him through the portal. "And you aren't mine either," she clarifies when his expression goes sour behind them. "C'mon. Just show me which journals we're starting with and we'll compare notes in an hour."

~

Damien helps for a while, mostly just fetching books and running to the kitchen to grab water and a small meal for the three of them, and then assisting whenever Rilla asks, but she's not entirely surprised when she glances over to ask him to grab one of Vetch's older journals and she finds him completely passed out in the chair beside her own.

She manages a smile. This is the calmest she's seen him look all day.

Arum doesn't mention it, but he works more quietly after that. She pretends not to notice when she catches him staring at Damien in his sleep.

Eventually, she leans back in her seat with a long sigh, pushing her hair out of her face. They've hit on a few different curse-breaking methods that seem to come up repeatedly- one that Arum says he's used before is pretty straightforward, but unlikely to be useful to them in this case: killing the creature who created the curse. Usually, he says, that will solve the issue immediately, but there is a slim chance that it'll just leave the curse behind, depending on how it was created. Besides that, though, the chances of the four of them figuring out which member of the Senate created this curse and then actually getting close enough to kill them- well, it's a risky idea at the very least. Probably impossible, if she's being honest with herself.

Another potential solution that keeps coming up in Rilla's research is- well. Mostly it's just more fuel for the fire of Rilla's distaste for the way magic works. It sounds more like a bad joke than a real solution, but it does keep coming up, and… well…

"Do kisses actually break curses?" Rilla asks eventually, quietly, and she feels absolutely stupid, but she's been with Arum for long enough to know that if this question has a real answer, he would know it. "Or is that just another dumb misinterpretation-slash-mistranslation of some herbal component or something?"

"They-" he pauses, flicks his tongue, and his expression goes distinctly uncomfortable. "They have been known to. Historically. Though- though the magic is, of course-"

"Inconsistent," Rilla finishes with a frustrated sigh. "I know, I know. But-"

"It would not be… unheard of," he mumbles, looking decidedly away from her. "If… if a- a powerful sort of- of connection were involved."

Rilla grits her teeth, resisting the urge to groan. "So. True love."

"Ugh," the monster grumbles, and Rilla can't help but agree.

"Look, I know it's stupid, but so is magic and if there's even a possibility it might work-"

"Magic is not stupid," he spits, and her human insult sounds charmingly ridiculous in his voice. Like it always does. She tries not to think about that.

"Just inconsistent and almost deliberately contrary," she says, and then she glances towards Damien's still sleeping-slumped form and lowers her voice. "I just- I know it's a long shot. I know you barely believe us. I know it'll be-" painful, she doesn't say. "Awkward. But- if it works, then it's just a few seconds of- awkward and then you'll have the whole damn year back, right?"

"So you would like to… kiss." He pauses, his hands flexing and clenching. "To kiss me. That is what you are saying."

"I'm not saying I would like to," she corrects quickly, because the idea of Arum not knowing, not recognizing, not remembering while she puts her lips on him makes her feel- it makes her chest feel tight and awful and she thinks that she might want to just scream a bit, but- "I'm saying there's a slim, slim chance that it might just fix this, and I think it'd be stupid of us not to just test that incredibly low-risk theory and see what happens, if anything. And if it doesn't work-"

He stares at her, his frown turning nearly into a pout as she tries not to think about the curiosity in his eyes.

"If it doesn't work?"

"Then we…" she sighs. "Then we just keep looking for something else. No great loss beyond a couple of seconds of time."

That part feels like a lie. Rilla- Rilla always wants to kiss Arum. She loves kissing Arum, loves the way she can make him smile, make his whole frame soften so damn easily-

It feels like a pretty fucking substantial loss, though, to give a kiss to Arum while he barely even knows who she is.

But if there's even the slightest chance it might bring him back- Saints, she's starting to sound like Damien. She sucks in a breath to steady herself, then presses her own lips into a frown as she waits for Arum to respond.

His hands flex again, and then he seems to remember the coded journal in danger of his claws, and he sets the tome aside as a thin rattle whirs from his throat. He meets her eye- and then he glances away too quickly, snake-strike fast.

Rilla saw, though. She saw the look in his eyes. He's already made the decision.

"… very well," he says eventually, still not looking anywhere near her. "If… if you believe we might unravel this magic… if we are to each other what you say we are… that sort of magic is rather old, and rather… potent. I imagine this curse must be powerful, but…"

"You agree that there's a chance?"

"Slim," he hedges. "With magic, there is a chance of nearly anything. With magic as old as a curse-breaking kiss… a slim chance is still a chance, I suppose."

"Okay," Rilla says slowly. "So… so you're okay if we… try this?"

"I'm not going to get my hopes up," the monster mutters, and then he flicks his eyes up to meet her own. "But… yes. If there is a chance… yes."

Rilla clenches her fists hard at her side, trying and trying and trying not to think about the mingling hope and curiosity she can see the monster trying very clumsily to hide.

"Alright," she says, and then she takes another step closer to him. "Okay. If you're sure-"

"I'm not going to say it again, little human."

"I'm just gonna," she says by way of warning, and then before her hands can start actually shaking, she lifts them to cup his jaw, her heart stuttering when he stiffens at the contact. He swallows, his eyes widening as they flick between her own, and she gives a weak sort of smile. "Close your eyes?"

She's half expecting him to change his mind at that. Instead, he just watches her for another moment, his hands flexing at his sides, and then she feels him nod very slightly as he lets his eyes slip closed.

She could almost pretend, like this. While he isn't looking at her- she could almost pretend.

Almost.

She leans up, going on her toes so she can reach his mouth more easily, but when she's at the right level she pauses first.

"I… I know you don't want to hear this right now," she whispers, and Arum inhales sharply as her breath tickles his scales, "but I think- I feel like… maybe I should."

"What…" he keeps his eyes closed, his shoulders stiff. "Go on. Say what needs said and just-"

"I love you," she murmurs, and the shocked noise he makes is too much to stand, so she closes her own eyes as she lifts herself the last little bit to kiss him.

It feels exactly like a first kiss, which Rilla decides she should have expected. He feels stiff against her, he doesn't even raise his hands to hold her, he just- stands and gasps against her lips and allows her to hold his face with as much gentleness as she can muster.

His chest rumbles as her thumbs brush across his cheeks, as her mouth moves against him. She can tell that he's just as breathless as she is, and she feels burning and wild as she thinks, told you that you purr, you big liar.

Her eyes flutter open as she slowly pulls away. She exhales, one long sigh, and then she looks up into Arum's eyes.

Her heart stumbles, and then it sinks.

Arum's violet eyes are wide, and stunned, and wanting-

And still without a flicker of memory.

She tries to hide her- her disappointment, tries to hide the way her entire body feels suddenly cold and distant, but when she closes her eyes again she can hear the small noise the monster makes in response, and after a moment, two of his hands reach awkwardly to grip her own.

"I… Rilla…"

"Don't- don't call me that," she manages, and her voice sounds strange in her own ears. It's almost worse, hearing him try to say the wrong name so damn gently instead of just hissing at her. "You never call me that."

"I'm… I'm s-" he pauses, and she can feel his hands flexing uncomfortably against her own. "I do not know what to say. I thought- for a moment, I almost believed that perhaps-"

"Knew it was a ridiculous long shot. You said so yourself," she says, before he can finish the thought, and his hands drop away from her. She wants to grab his wrists and pull his arms around her, wants to run until her legs give out, wants to shove him and scream in his face, wants to kiss him again and again and again until she snaps this curse in half-

She opens her eyes, and turns away from Arum's confused, yearning face, back to the pile of books. She pulls one towards her, peeling it open with fingers that feel wooden and strange, and she forces herself to focus on the words in front of her.

"We'll keep trying," she says, and after a moment she sees him nod out of the corner of her eye.

They'll keep trying. Rilla will keep working. Until they fix this, until they get him back-

There's nothing else she can do.

[->]

[morphituu]

Milagro

Chapter 18: Back to Santa Monica

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17

Nick’s poor attempt at muffling his own hiss went unnoticed when Callie gripped his hand with a hold that could challenge an Orc’s, her forehead coming to press against his paling knuckles, gritting her teeth through the pressure.

“I’m sorry, I know these are awful,” Dr. Sangui sympathized, her hands and eyes busy behind the screen of the thin cloth draped between Callie’s knees.

“Mhm-” Callie tried to remain composed, but Nick could see the bands of muscle straining along the entire length of her legs propped up in the stirrups.

“Okay, aaand,” her doctor made quick work of her hands, followed by a few metallic clicks. “We’re done,”

Callie exhaled, her knees slapping together, whispering a soft, shy apology to Nick when she caught him shaking the blood back into his hand. He shrugged it off so she wouldn’t dwell, helping her sit up.

“Do you two have your bags packed yet?” Dr. Sangui asked after dropping the speculum into the sink and rolling towards them.

Nick snorted. “No,”

Callie flicked his hand.

“Well I think you may wanna keep them in the car, honestly. You’re about 70% effaced,” she grinned at Callie, instantly recognizing the excitement rising in her big eyes.

“What’s that?” Nick asked, feeling a little excluded from all the smiles.

“She could go into labor any day now,”

Nick’s poise flickered through a wide range of emotions just as his ears did, blindly reaching for Callie’s thigh to squeeze, but she was sure that although he would go on to tell her it was for moral support on her part, he was actually supporting himself so he didn’t fall forward onto his face.

“So he’s full term?” he cracked, grimacing at the betrayal of his voice.

“Right now his growth equates to a human baby at 36 weeks, at that stage we don’t stop labor if it comes. Callie’s body is showing all the right signs of labor preparation so I feel comfortable saying yes, he’s full term and you should have a little boy in your arms any day now,” her smile had started to break through her words, and by the time she finished, Callie was pressing her fingers over her own wide smile.

“Any day?” Nick repeated, the telling placement of his hand on his chest alerting Callie that he was leaning into breathlessness

“Yes sir, so pack those bags,” she scolded. “If you don’t have anymore questions or concerns I can get your paperwork organized and send you two on your way to get all the sleep you can.”

“Yes!” Callie clasped her hands together. “What secrets do you have to start labor?”

“I wish I had some,” Sangui frowned. “And while we’re at it, I'd like to go over our plan once more,”

“My natural birth plan?”

Nick’s glance up at her was one of annoyance; he didn’t understand why she had to be so hard-headed about this.

“Your back-up plan,”

“Assuming I even need one because I’m going to push him out,” Callie was frolicsome as ever, but her refusal to even consider the possibility of anything going south was worrisome. How would she handle the labor if it did go south?

“Seeing you wholeheartedly believing in yourself thrills me, but I need to hear you say you understand the importance of it, please . I don’t want any confusion if the time comes,”

Callie exhaled, choosing to look away from her doctors hardened, and seasoned stare. “I understand,” she established clearly, her mood having plummeted a little. “When can I cancel the c-section?”

“The second Leo is out,” she promised. “And a little personal advice from a mother of five,”

Nick’s eyes widened. Five!?

 “Walk. Walk as much as you can and let gravity do its job,”

“That’s it?” Callie muttered in disbelief.

Sangui nodded enthusiastically. “Tried and true method of evicting those little things,”

Callie looked at Nick who in turn shrugged. “Of all things,”

“Just please, whatever you do, don’t use castor oil. I cannot stand to see another baby go to ICU,” Dr. Sangui pleaded, the familiar grief lining her expression telling all the heartache she’d endured from such unfortunate events.

“I’ve heard horror stories,” Callie agreed, and once again Nick was left in the dark as he waited for some kind of hint to be provided

“Listen to them. Okay! Let me go grab your papers and you two can get going!” She chimed happily, patting Nick’s shoulder as she passed and left the room.

Callie always giggled when Nick took it upon himself to help pull her shorts up her legs, tugging them up her thighs once she was standing despite her half-hearted attempts at shoving him away. When it came to the spandex band that covered the curve of her low stomach, he’d step away knowing she liked to fold it over a particular way.

The black tank-top was pulled down, already fanning her cheeks and tossing her hair off her shoulders. A deep flush dusted her freckled cheeks, one the brisk AC didn’t even harpen.

Nick gazed up at her, admiring. Like the first time he’d looked up at a police officer at six years old, eyes wide and sparkling in wonder, he now found himself stuck in the same predicament, unable to pull from the force keeping him there. This time however, he gravitated towards it instead of ducking shyly behind his father.

His strong hands came to hold her thigh, his forehead resting there also.

It had started to hit him while basking under the warm beams of her smile; the realization that soon his world that revolved around Callie would shift, and Leo would become the center.

There were times he’d wake from hazy dreams of finding Callie sitting in their bed, whispering in mystifying talk down at her arms where little hands grabbed blindly, and where even softer cries would bring him towards her despite feeling fear heavy his feet.

Nick took a composing breath, his hands squeezing her thigh steadily. Callie’s own came to caress the back of his head and neck, but with her global stomach in the way, she couldn’t lean down to kiss him into a tranquil state. She hoped her touch gliding across his wide shoulders that expanded with deep inhales did something for him like his comforting aura so often did for her when she found herself in a panic.

Now that the power of his night terrors were failing to do harm, they seemed to switch their assault on his wakefulness the closer they came to meeting Leo. The fluttering excitement was stirring, slowly simmering into fear, the steam clouding his eyes and leaving him in a confused haze.

 What do I do if he doesn’t stop crying? How often can I hold him? What if he hates me?

Fatherhood was just around the corner, but there wasn’t much even she could do to prepare him, and the questions would likely remain unanswered until the time came for him to simply go through the motions of learning their son.

He’d started to absentmindedly draw designs across her thigh where the shorts didn’t reach, his head tilted and staring from behind his sunglasses at the woman who struggled to pay her parking ticket at the gate.

“How hard is it to press a button and swipe a card?” Callie chastised, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Nick shook his head. “Not like we need to be anywhere today,”

“Ross is calling and the heat is cooking me,” she whined, rallying a chuckle from him.

“Maybe it’ll bake him a little faster,”

“You got your oven mitts ready?” she cracked, and he laughed again.

The remnants of his smile lingered once looking back to the car ahead of him, his ears twitching when an alluring idea came to the forefront of his mind. “Do we have anything planned for dinner?”

Her eyes momentarily bounced around as she squinted, finally exhaling, “Nope,”

Nick grinned. “Date night?”

“Mm? What’ya have in mind?” she smiled when resting her chin in her palm and laying her phone in her lap.

“How about Santa Monica?”

Her smile wavered here and there between a scowl. “Last time we were there we got in that fight ,”

“That was last time,” Nick sighed.

“I know, okay, I just…” she fidgeted, halting her drumming fingers. “That was just a shitty day,”

Nick reached into her lap to smoothly scoop her hand into his, their fingers twining when he kissed the back of her hand, his eyes on the road as they finally made their way from the parking lot. “You know I’ll be sorry forever,”

 “Callie open the fucking door!”

The heel of her palms stayed pressed against her eyes when she shook her head, leaned forward into her own lap. “Go away Nick,” she croaked, sniffling.

“Open the door!” he bellowed, his palm coming to hit the window sill of the passenger side door.

“Fuck off! Just leave me alone!” she screamed, fresh hot tears staining her cheeks.

“I’m not going until you fucking talk to me!”

“ I don't wanna talk !” she sobbed, and continued to scream as he yanked animalistically against the handle, the truck swaying side to side. “Nick stop before someone calls the cops!”

“I don’t fucking care!” he bellowed, truly uncaring of the strangers amongst the crowds coming in and out of the piers parking lot that had stopped to watch him beat wildly against the truck. “Now open the fucking door so we can go home!”

“ NO !”

She screamed when his lightning fast strike was enough to crack the window, the soft splintering filling the silence between them now as she looked at his heaving form that looked back in shock from his own outburst.

“I know,” she used the back of her knuckles to rub his chin before he held her thigh so she could have her hand back.

“That won’t happen again, I promise,” he still reassured.

“It’s okay baby, really,” Callie’s small smile was comforting, but he knew the somber memory still made her flinch sometimes when his temper grew explosive. “It’s not like I haven’t gone apeshit sometimes,”

“Yeah but I can just pick you up and toss you aside when you start tapping into those crackhead vibes,” Nick grinned when she giggled, her soft touch tracing the back of his hand as the wind tossed her loose hair around. “So do you wanna go?”

“Yeah, one more date with just us two,” she beamed, her smile brighter than any magic he’d bored witness to.

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Oh yeah, it’s not like all the times there were bad,” she suspired, leaning closer to give him that crooked, toothy grin.

Nick could only look at her in fleeting glances, but he’d recognize that glimmer of her eyes anyday. “Like?”

“Like the ball,”

Nick swallowed. “The black dress ball?”

“Mhm,” she bit her bottom lip, studying him closely.

 “Nick stoh- stop stop I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum!” she sobbed, thighs trembling and spread in his lap. He was buried to the knuckles in her pussy, his hand other working her flushed tits that shook with her ragged breaths.

“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” he sneered against her hair, the shimmering black dress pooled around her waist.

The aching of her knee started to dull as she ebbed closer, her heeled foot hooked onto the dashboard and fingers dug into the fabric across his thighs, surely burning her own palms the longer he extended his torture.

His fingertips found her clit for only a moment before sliding two fingers back in, her spine arching immediately when he drummed her spot.

“Ah fuck-” she choked, curling off his body. “Nick, Nick Nick-”

“Fuck I love it when you shake like that,” he growled, teeth bared and gripping her breast tight enough to make her whimper, but it was all muted the moment she climaxed.

Callie was always a sight to behold when this moment came; the way she chanted his name until her voice broke, her hips rolling perfectly into his rhythm, and there was always the pulses of her pussy. How he could feel her slick walls milking his fingers, and could practically taste her sweet nectar he scented furiously.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispered, dragging his slick fingers out to rub her sensitive clit. There were a few listless jerks of her body, but Callie twisted in his hold after evening her breathing, her sore fingers curling in his shoulders to steady herself.

Her movements were wobbly and sloppy, but this night, Nick was too heated and hard to stop her from wiggling upright in his lap, and clumsily reaching down to guide his hard as rock cock inside once he’d done away with the belt and zipper.

His head hit the headrest, eyes closed and moaning against her parted lips that ghosted against his. She tasted like the champagne they’d been served in crystal glasses, her touch cold across his chest once she’d run down the length of buttons.

Every slow drop of her hips took him back in with ease, a breathless whine meeting his lips every time he filled her.

The fallen strands of her messy hair that was once pinned up in a soft french twist now tickled his cheeks as she looked down at him with balmy eyes.

Nick’s mind further unraveled when she leaned back against the steering wheel, switching to soft bounces that dropped her head back in the wake of a loud moan.

The smooth plain of her torso was bared for him to touch, his palms sliding flat up between her breasts and resting at her neck as he bucked into her sweet pussy, his own cries starting to fill the steamy space of the trucks cab.

A few snaps before his eyes brought him back with a deep flush and growing erection, his heavy eyes finding her looking up at him curiously.

“Are you daydreaming?” she smiled, poking his hip.

Nick shrugged, his knees swinging wide as he adjusted the achy hard-on in his shorts while following her to the next aisle. He quickly offered an elbow upon watching her waddle with a hand pressed into the wearied crook of her spine, still keeping a hand at her back when he reached up to top shelves for her.

“Here,” she took both of her selections and hung a bag on each of his shoulders, studying them meticulously.

“Why me?” he cocked a hairless brow.

“You’re gonna be carrying it while I’m dying of labor pains,” she grinned. “I think I like the Puma one,”

“If I’m carrying why can’t it be more me looking?”

“They don’t have any blue ones,” she pointed with a frown, narrowly avoiding the slap to her ass. “If I scream that someone from the Blue Man Group is hitting me people will come running!”

Nick chuffed, hooking his arm around her shoulders before she could slip away, hanging on tight when she tried to squirm away. She let out high pitched laughter into his chest as he shoved his face between her shoulder and cheek, all in attempts to chuff into her ear; it always made her squirm and scream.

“Cheesecake!” she finally squealed, slapping a few rounds worth of hits against his arms that didn’t phase him in the slightest. “You ruined my bun!”

“Ahh it was already fucked, c’mon fur ball,”

Now Nick barely avoided a hard punch to his arm after grabbing the bag of her choice and moving on, only coming back to her side to help her walk after she pinky promised she wouldn’t groin shot him.

“So what else?” he asked, his arm hung around her shoulders.

“Swaddling blankets. I have everything I need at home-”

Nick nearly lost his footing when his arm didn’t follow, but he quickly realized what was happening when he came to face her pinched brows and scrunched nose, the irritated turn of her jaw.

“Bad one?” he questioned keenly, glaring at a couple that murmured lowly in annoyance as they moved around a steadfast Callie at the center of an aisle.

She nodded, exhaling slowly. “Thought my water was gonna break everywhere for a second,”

Nick felt the blood come back to his face. “Wait until we’re in the car at least so I can just drive you to the hospital,”

She snickered, leaning more into his arm now as they ambled around the store.

The mostly curious, sometimes disgusted and other times intrigued gawks in their direction was for the most part ignored now; years of toughening allowed him to now brush the remarks off, but even he couldn’t resist growling lowly when the looks deviated, dragging up and down Callie, or his form. If there was ever a time Nick hated his heightened sense of smell, it was in Targets with middle aged mothers who would outwardly glare at him, but upon passing, their arousal would give them away, often accompanied by a glance over their shoulder at the beefy Orc.

“There’s another cougar looking at you,” Callie would whisper, pointing with her chin.

It’s when he’d give a small reminder to the less informed humans that he was spoken for, usually with a hand slipped into Callie’s back pocket or slyly pulling her hair back from her face to reveal the faint bite under her jaw.

“So where’re we eating?” Callie piped, gently touching a pair of thin, silver earrings whose jewels sparkled softly.

“Mariasol’s? I could go for some ceviche,” Nick’s mouth watered at just the thought.

“Oh good, I thought you were gonna be tired of Mexican after these last two weeks,”

He scoffed. “I haven’t grown tired of you, have I?” he asked against the shell of her ear, smiling when she blushed.

“Nick?”

They both turned at the unrecognized call of his name, but Callie caught the stiffening of Nick’s spine before she even had a chance to properly overlook the lean Orc woman that had called after him.

“Grohet?” Nick said, his eyes peeled.

“Yeah- hi!” she smiled, her stubby tusks barely peeking from her lips as she moved forward to hug him.

Although Nick’s embrace was stiff and half-hearted, it still shrunk Callie back to his side, unknowing where to look or how to place her hands as she took in small details of the admittedly gorgeous woman before her lover.

“How’ve you been?” she went on to ask, respectfully stepping away from him.

“Uh yeah, good, real good. God it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” Nick replied nervously, his eyes shooting to Callie’s and finding the anxiousness. “This is my girlfriend Callie,” he proudly introduced, his hand returning to the spot at her back

“The lone wolf is finally settling down, huh?” Grohet teased, shaking Callie’s hand gently.

Callie’s head cocked. Lone wolf?

 “Najbor-tuk or lavgru-mal?”

“Boy, we’re naming him Leo,” Nick went on, his chest puffing.

“About to pop then?” she asked, and although Callie nodded and snaked her arm behind Nick again with a nonchalant smile to match, she wanted out of that conversation immediately.

She didn’t need to be told to know these two had history.

The kind that made Nick fidgety, or her cock a painted brow when she spotted Callie’s obvious condition.

It also made her wonder how he’d jumped from tall, elegant Orcs with velvety voices to her stunted stature and tangly hair that even annoyed her sometimes.

God, she was almost his height and built like an Olympian-

“Maybe, but we should get going, we have a few more errands to run,” Nick’s voice broke through her thoughts, but by the time she realized she’d been glaring at Grohet, he was already shaking her hand.

“Yeah me too. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you two around.” She grinned at Callie who could barely muster her own. Grohet strolled away leisurely, pushing her earphones back.

“I thought she moved out of LA,” he pondered out loud. “You alright?”

Callie nodded with a sour grin. “Cramps,” she lied.

“Well let’s get you off your feet then.” He offered an elbow, the couple setting off back down the aisle as Nick went on to chat about something she didn’t quite catch when glancing over her shoulder, but the mysterious woman was already gone.

It was surprising how easily he found parking this time of day, and so close, but before he could even turn off the truck, he was staring at Callie again, more notably her downcast eyes and hands toying listlessly in her lap.

“Callie,” he sighed.

“Hm?”

“Talk,”

She pursed her lips, looking at him with glossy eyes. “You never mentioned her before,”

Nick’s expression turned horrified. “Why’re you crying?”

“I’m not, it’s the fucking hormones,” she sniffled.

“What-”

“Why didn’t you ever mention her?” she questioned. “I’ve sat and talked about your exes with your mom and that one never came up,”

“She wasn’t an ex,” he intoned, resting back in his seat and turning the engine off.

“Oh bullshit,” Callie scoffed. “Just spit it out,”

He looked to her with apprehension, sighing as he said, “She was a fuck buddy,”

A few seconds of Callie’s blank mein ticked by, then a few more before she calmly situated back in her seat, holding her round stomach. “An ex would’ve been better,”

Nick sighed again, unsure of what to even say that could expel the tension, or calm the unrest in her mind.

“How long?” she asked softly.

He shook his head in uncertainty. “Five-ish months?”

Now she looked at him, her brows pulled together in mild discomfort. “How’d you two meet?”

“O-Date,”

“So it started as a date?” she whined, but Nick had grabbed her hand, turning in his seat to face her.

“She told me within ten minutes she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She only wanted sex,”

“For five months!?”

“Callie,” he stopped her rampage. “That’s not fair,”

Her brows furrowed now.

“I didn’t ridicule you for the guys you slept with before me,”

She looked down at his hand holding hers, his thumb stroking her skin. “What was she like?”

“I don’t know,”

Callie looked at him in confusion.

“It was literally just sex, we didn’t even talk. I’m surprised she even remembered my name,”

“What’s with the lone wolf thing?”

Nick looked outwards, his lips in a straight line. “It was my username…”

Callie tried, but she still giggled at it. “She’s pretty,”

Nick scoffed. “She has fake eyebrows,”

She laughed this time, bringing her forehead to rest against his knuckles. “I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be. I’d flip if one of your ex’s came strolling up like that,”

With a shrug she said, “I’m positive none of them would even come up if you were standing next to me,”

“That’s what you get when you date white boys,”

“Shut up! You fucked someone with fake eyebrows!”

Nick’s leer was menacing. “You really wanna go there?”

 “Uhh…” Callie could only utter, the sheet wrapped loosely around her bare form. “Can… are you okay? Josh-”

Fuck, was his name Josh!?

He only waved her away, his face buried in his other palm as he choked down hiccuping sobs and sat facing away from her at the end of his bed. His bony shoulders shook terribly; it freaked her out a little bit.

“Y-you can lea-leave,” he at last choked out, rising naked from his spot and wobbling out of his messy room.

She could hear him bumping against the doorframe to another room, and until she heard the door lock did she remain motionless, but as soon as she could hear his intensifying cries drowning out in the slurred words of who ever he was calling, Callie was on her feet and pulling her clothes back on with her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder.

“Pickuppickuppickup-” she hissed, yanking her jeans up her legs.

“Hey bitch-

“Rosie come pick me up,” Callie rushed, flinging her phone down only a moment to pull her shirt on.

“That was fast-”

“NO, he fucked me for three seconds now he’s in the other room crying!”

There was a long pause. “What!?”

 “Why are you making me relive that?” Callie carped.

“Cuz you reminded me of the time I rubbed off one of her eyebrows and it was horrifying,”

She managed to stifle most of the laughter, but he’d at least had the courtesy of not laughing at her when she’d first retold the tale of her flee from the boy that had started sobbing like she’d murdered his family before him, and muted her amusement.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, his hand smoothing the back of her head.

Callie nodded, the rampant thoughts diminished and Leo rousing lively after hearing his father speak. “I’m sorry,” she again said softer.

There was only a shake of his head before he closed the space between them, his lips meeting hers for confident, full kisses that made her cheeks warm. His big hands concealing her reddened cheeks only continued to warm as he prolonged the kisses, speaking softly to her in whispers only she would ever hear.

“Okay,” Nick forcefully threw the truck into park in his excitement, the pair looking out to where they’d already spotted Dinara and Oleg sitting at one of the outside patios of the bar. “Ready?”

She nodded, but didn’t move except for her leg that was bouncing like it had its own engine.

“Baby,” he held the back of her neck until she looked at him with glossy, wide eyes.

“It’s the third time,” her voice broke, quickly wiping her eyes. “What if-”

“No, we already said no what if’s. This,” he reached to place a hand over her flat stomach that would soon start to bulge. “This is it. There’s no more what ifs,”

Her lip started to tremble. “What if I lose this one too?”

Before she could even continue he was bringing her forehead against his, holding her steadfast, vanquishing all of the fear if only for a few seconds. Her grip on his wrists was tight, but he knew it was out of fear, not repulsion, and his unwavering support was what she’d need now and until she pushed this baby out despite fearing it would be ripped from her grasp like the ones previous.

“This is the one Callie,” he spoke softly, his palms moving smoothly over her cheeks. “Pick names because you’re gonna be a mom,”

She smiled, weakly, but it was still something. He kissed her head when it dropped, allowing her the minutes she needed to compose herself before they’d once again step before his parents and tell them she was expecting.

“It feels like yesterday,” he mumbled, his mottled finger following Leo.

“I didn’t think I could do it,” she admitted carefully, shame filling those big caramel eyes when meeting Nick’s bewilderment. “My body’s never been reliable,”

He couldn’t argue that. Between miscarriages and endless medicated routines that turned Callie’s body sour, the ornery temper of her womb would always seem to flare up when she least needed it.

“Baby?” he called, shrugging off his bag by the door and hanging his keys. He pushed down Pucca who excitedly pawed as his hip, shoving her wide head under his hand with a series of high-pitched whines.

“Where’s mama?” he played, but the sudden spin and glance over her shoulder Pucca shot back at him brought his teasing manner down. Nick furrowed his brows as he looked down at Pucca’s perked ears and straight as an arrow tail.

“Where’s mama?” he asked again, beelining after her when she took off down the hall, her nails ripping across the carpet.

The blood assaulted his senses before he even made it to Callie’s aid, curled up in bed under the sheets.

Pucca started barking beside her, whining when Nick whipped the sheet away to lay bare the blood pooling beneath her.

“Cal-” he gasped, Pucca continuing to cry beside them.

The stench of sickly blood still laid vivid in the meadows of his mind no matter how he fought to forget it’s odor, but a quick, and comforting look at her stomach swelled beautifully with his healthy baby brought him back from the darker corners of his mind.

“Ready to eat?” he asked.

“Yep.” She nodded, thankful to be steered away from those memories.

Nick was there as always to help her down from the high seat, his hold at her sides unmoving until she was steady and clear headed. His daily attentiveness reminded her of the faith she held in him, knowing the same strong arms that so guarded her would be where Leo would lay safely, cradled and shielded from any harm.

As she looked up at him with their hands joined, listening to him speak about the ambiance of the outside bar he wanted to sit at, she knew he’d share his thoughts and lessons with their son throughout his life, confident that the same excitement that glimmered in his eyes would grow brighter once he looked into Leo’s inquisitive eyes.

Nick took notice to her quiet stares, her brows furrowed every so slightly as she gazed, and listened, a hand rested over her stomach once sat under the warm lights lining the patio like stars.

“What?” he scoffed, his curiosity growing when she shook her head, but gave him that toothy, crooked grin.

“I just like listening to you talk,”

“Even after all these years?”

“I can’t wait to hear you talk to Leo,” she wavered, batting her glossy eyes.

Nick waved his hand, leaning his cheek into his palm shyly when she smiled adoringly at him.

But did she know how excited he was to see her with Leo in her arms? To at last give her what she’d fought for? To be lulled by the soft lullabies he knew she was saving for her son, and watch her admire the tiny hands she’d soon be able to kiss?

Nick stared at her now much in the same way she did, his heart hammering and his quiet breaths unsteady.

Could he keep her forever? Would her overflowing love for Leo leave room for him after all he’d put her through to get here?

He swallowed, smiling off her soft accusation of staring, his eyes diverting to the menus before them.

His eyes roamed over the words, but his heart was directing his attention to the question he’d wanted to hear her scream yes to that first time he’d ever spoken of his desire to make her his wife.

“They’re gonna like you,” he buoyed, snatching her hand to kiss her fingers.

“Says the one who told me how vicious your mother was when she met your other girlfriends,” she whined.

“You’re different,”

“Oh yeah? How?”

Nick sat up, inclining to kiss her sweetly once before saying, “I didn’t plan to marry any of those other girls,”

It didn’t register right away, but when it did, he saw the gravity of his words flicker across her face. First it was a loose smile, then the furrowed brows, them pure confusion, all making him smirk.

“What?” she croaked.

“You heard me,”

She situated better, scooting closer. “How’re you so confident after everything that’s happened? You never once thought we were hopeless?”

“Sure, but I never stopped feeling it. No matter what I did it’s been the same since I first saw you. Hit me like a bullet to the heart,” he explained, witnessing the glaze move over her eyes.

“Wh-” she cleared her throat when her voice cracked severely, moving her hair behind her ears. “Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Cause of the shit you’ll get for wanting to be with someone like me,”

He blew air. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone says, even if it’s our families. And it doesn’t have to be soon, hell it can be on our deathbeds, but no matter what, I’m gonna marry you one day Callie. Even if we’ve only known each other so briefly, and some of it was apart, I can’t fathom a life without you,”

She blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “You’re so sure you wanna spend that long with me?”

“Are you asking me, or yourself?” he questioned, leaning on a hand closer to her. “If you don’t want to spend that long with me, it’s okay-”

“I’m asking you. I know what I want, but do you?” she asked softly.

He kissed her again, resting his forehead against hers. “I want forever with you. Everything about you-”

“My anxiety?”

“Callie-”

“I can never give you a family,” she grieved, but he hushed her, kissing her silent.

“Anything, everything, always. You can’t scare me away,” he laughed, and so did she.

Nick glanced around. Could I do it here? There were only a few more patrons filling up the patio that late afternoon, individuals that hadn’t even given the odd couple second glances.

He looked back to Callie, leaned to the side and going on about Leo favoring her left side the past few days.

 I don’t have a ring.

That smothered his flame some, but the thought of Callie not being his in every sense possible made his heart ache, even if she was branded with his mark and carried his scent.

He gazed at the smile that had made his heart thunder to life that first time all those years ago, the freckles he’d once counted as she slept tangled in his hold. Her big eyes that twinkled with life, even in the dark.

Callie’s soft ranting about the price of an enchilada dish halted when her hand was suddenly enveloped by his on the tables surface, and as soon as she found the bubbling, skittish fear in his eyes, somewhere deep down in her heart, she knew what was coming.

“Callie-”

“Hey there! My name is Kim and I’ll be helpin’ you two out tonight,” the cheery, short statured waitress popped up, laying down coasters. “Can I start you two off with any Liquid Marijuanas or Mai Tai’s? Maybe a bottle of Black Sky for you sir?”

“Uh-” Callie started.

“Woops! Or maybe some waters? Fresh horchata? Jamaica?”

“Can we have time to look at the menu?” Nick stopped her, his agitation growing.

“For sure! I’ll swing by in a few minutes!” and Kim was off, pacing towards the next table.

Nick exhaled bitterly, letting go of her hand to open his menu again in preparation.

“What were you gonna say?” Callie asked, eyes hopeful and waiting.

 Not now, not here. I’ll take the signs. “If you minded if I drank a little,” he grinned.

The mild disappointment in her tone when she replied made him wonder if she knew what had been coming, and if she’d been hopeful for it.

Callie acted nonchalant when she leaned back in her chair, quickly changing subjects and not really letting a word in otherwise, but he understood. He knew it was so she didn’t have to argue with her own thoughts and emotions of hidden embarrassment.

Suddenly the dinner felt like it’d take too long, but a quick reminder of their last date they’d ever have as just Nick and Callie settled that impatience.

If the time he would ask could be perfect, he’d wait.

But once the food came and went, his nerves grew.

When they finally raised from their seats after talking for what felt like hours, lost in one anothers smiles and soft caresses across their hands, he found his hands starting to shake.

The sky was melting into waves of oranges and purples, glowing over the crashing waves she wanted to sit in the sand before. Nick held their shoes in one hand and hers in the other, wobbling over the warm sand until they found a spot close to the shoreline.

He made sure she was safely nestled before flopping down behind her, his legs on either of her sides and arms coming to wrap around her cool arms, her thick hair wisping in the cool breeze under his chin.

She reclined into his chest, gently shh-ing Leo when Nick brought his vivacious side out, both of them chuckling when his touch was kicked away.

Their voices and conversation dimmed with the setting sun, Callie’s heavy eyes lingering on the thin wash of water that crept up and down the beach.

Sometimes she could still hear Pucca barking and running through the shallow water, uncaring of what child she mowed down in her efforts to chase her ball. Callie didn’t think she’d ever get over the absence of her deceased companion. Her bed still sat by the hallway entrance, her bowls still below the bar.

She turned her shoulders to press her face into Nick’s chest, curling into a tighter ball.

His firm hold around her frame stirred a content moan, goosebumps firing up her arms where his hand rubbed up and down.

Nick released a steadying breath low enough to go unnoticed, opening his eyes after his small pep talk that now felt foolish. Nothing would help with this intense fluttering in his gut except her final answer, whether it be what he wanted or not.

“Callie?”

“Hm?” she lifted her nose to press under his chin.

He blinked away the heartbeat behind his eyes, licking his dry lips. “Will you marry me?”

Callie looked up at him now, and he worried she’d heard the shake in his breath after asking, but the beaming smile shining up at him after some visible tension had fallen off her shoulders made him laugh nervously, his brows starting to furrow when she didn’t answer right away.

“Yes, yes- I want to be your wife,” she sighed, her grip already moving to his broad chest.

Nick felt his heart vault back between his ribs from his stomach, a loud exhale making her laugh when she realized he’d been holding his breath.

“Did you think I’d say no?” she asked against his mouth when he started peppering her face with kisses.

“I did,” he groaned apologetically. “Every time I brought it up you seemed to hate the idea,”

“What!?” she exclaimed. “Nick I’ve wanted to marry you since we first got back together, but I didn’t trust myself to remain the person you fell in love with if I would’ve kept losing babies, especially Leo,”

“Why would I stop loving you for that?”

“I don’t doubt you, but I don’t know if you would’ve been able to live with the person I could’ve become, regardless of how much you love me. I didn’t want to disappoint you anymore,” she explained sullenly.

She tried to look down despite his hands angling her face up, pressing her cheek into his palm bashfully.

“You’d be doing me the honor of being my wife, because I don’t deserve someone as brave, and strong and fucking gorgeous as you”

“Nick stop,” she wept, his hands bringing her back when she shook her head.

“I don’t deserve you but you’re my other half, Calista. I’m not me without you. You’re my best friend, and my home. You’re my fucking girl,” his voice had started to shake again, his brows arched in annoyance that he couldn’t remain composed, but her lips sealed his when there was no more to be said. Without words she calmed the torrid emotions, reassuring that he hadn’t made a mistake in asking for her hand.

She promised she’d excel the ideal image of a wife just as he did when he swore her everlasting protection and devotion, and together they vowed the home for Leo, the love, patience, and everything else they would surround their son with as he came into this world and grew.

When their tears had dried and he again kept her tight against his chest, his flannel removed and draped over her body, she started to giggle to herself until he leaned back to look at her in question.

“You couldn’t have asked before we ran into your ex fuck buddy so you could introduce me as your fiancée?” she smiled playfully.

“Do you want me to scream it in case anymore are around?”

Her smile dissolved. “More?”

“I’m joking.” he grinned, blocking her hits against his arms and chest until he got his arms around hers to continue smothering her with kisses.

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✨🎉🔔⛪⛪⛪🔔🎉✨

i'm already writing the next chapter. it's time.

as always, thank you @rfitzhugh74​ for being the kind of best friend everyone deserves, and always helping me with this beast 💛🖤

[themrmalice]

Treacherous Deep

By Malice

Narrated on YouTube by The Disciple: https://youtu.be/rmoQAE5QBM8

   

Metal groans in discomfort as its frame compresses, glass shakes and snickers, full knowledge that it alone stands as a barrier between the crew and the black depth outside. Like invisible arms squeezing the cabin with all its might, wishing only to crush the sub like a tin can. Within were 5 “Derelicts” a term coined for salvagers, investigating a signal that blew through the system from 15,000m below the tense surface of water. Clean, lacking waves, like a marble. Took 4 blasts from an orbital kinetic cannon to break the surface tension, allowing the Derelicts to go beneath its murky waves. 

    Passing 4,000m, the Abyss, where no light dare tread, and where only 1 singular pulse of light may emit. A fiery red beams from a subsurface station, pulsing, again, again, again. It was still a few thousand metres down, in the pitch black beneath us. Perched on the only continental mass we could find, between two cliffs leading into a massive and unexplored crevice. Depth calculators still havent found the bottom, hidden as it is, we were sent in to find where the S.O.S. was coming from. 

    Passing 6,000m, its been quiet, with only a few low groans from the Ballast interrupting that silence. Hideous and beautiful, the ocean is nothing but a masterpiece. Our Sonar has not picked up anything thus far, and with a 4,000 mile radius, its only proof that we are truly in an abyss. No rocky formations, no lifeforms, not even bacterial life. Just our sub. The S.S. Moloch. As we sink deeper into the abyss, my job becomes far more difficult. I manage room pressurization. Normally Automated, but the station wanted us to be extra cautious. After 10,000m, its one button press from instantaneous death due to Barotrauma. I’ve seen it, at this depth the body is its own weapon. Implosion, your body guts itself brutally, the fashion by which it does this involves innumerable organs expanding and collapsing. In the blink of an eye, what used to be your friend is now a misty cloud of parting crimson. 

    Passing 9,000m, in just a few minutes, our ears will start to ring, a signal I need to up pressurization in the sub, just a tick too much however, and we will meet a watery grave. The control panel in front of me started to beep a couple hundred meters up, showcasing a warning that the pressure in my specific cabin was getting too low. If I let it beep for a second longer, my cabin would have collapsed, adding to the weight of our sub and eventually sinking the S.S. Moloch. Everything must be perfect, every tiny calculation, no room for error. Our Oxygen Supply, if the tempurature increases the entire supply could explode and puncture the bow, dragging us all down with it. The Sonar, if we lose power to it, even for a moment, wont be able to notify us of our descent speed. Moving to fast, we hit a rock and implode, moving to slow, and we are wasting valuable minutes beneath the surface. The Pilot, his hands are weary and eyes are straining, sweating profusely, one wrong move and we’ve lost time down here. This S.O.S. beacon was calculated to be below 20,000m. Under the crust and buried in the mantle. 

    10,000m, we found the station, who signalled us into a drydock for resupply and a small break lasting only 2 hours. A mistake in my opinion, the break may only slow us down. I remained on the ship, telling those on the station I cannot leave until I can guarantee the safe reentry of my companions. About 30 minutes in, I gave in and left. The station was dilapidated, held together by the bare minimum, I believe I found some gum holding a small hole in the ground of the dry dock together, frozen by nitrogen. Depth Gum too, made out of plants found down here, eases anxiety while retaining focus. The crew aboard the station, Station Lamia, one of 4 here and the only one at this depth in The Trench. The Crew were all very calm, relaxed, and overall pleasant. They gave us food, water, the occasional ration of alcohol, and eventually sat us down for a more serious topic. The Trench. The widest berth they’ve found down here was a mere 800m in diametre. Our sub could easily slip through, but that was merely the opening. Past 14,000m, the diameter never opens up to 800m, meaning we would need to take it slow and cautious. They warned us of the wild life down here as well. Incredibly territorial and incredibly large to boot. The largest creature they’ve seen can dwarf the entire station! Its so massive that it could never find its way out of the cavern system. The caves it resides in are too far beneath the trench to explore, but a probe was sent in and never found the bottom. Only the horrifying site of an unknown station. Upon exploration of it, the researchers found scriptures of unknown languages. A sign we have been looking for, a sign of sentient alien life. The unknown station was named “Incognita” and has been probed only twice. The full station has not been explored, as part of it was burrowed into the wall of the cave. Another threat they mentioned, oozing black liquid, an ichor so strong it could stick our whole sub to the side of a building on Earth with only 5 square inches of it. Its so powerful that extraction is next to impossible. They would require a requisitioned Extraction Mech AND have it modded to survive at this depth. To put it lightly, this cave system wants us dead. The Water, wants us dead. The creatures. The rocks. The currents. All of it wants us dead. The final and most foreboding threat they warned us about, the water itself. Its not water. It feels, looks, tastes like water. But its lighter. And on a microbial scale, it too moves upon its own volition. Tiny molecules that sink into the pores of skin and bones. The molecules themselves will expand and connect during expansion. When you swim in the water, you cant come out. They happily gave us a new Depth Suit, only one and not fitted. We boarded our sub and said goodbye. The Crew gave us hugs and we left with a somber farewell. They didnt expect to see us again. 

    Passing 12,000m, the pressure is off the charts and hard to control. Outside is no longer black, but now gray rocks painted by my light. These rocks moved swiftly. “I thought they said this cave had a wide berth?” I said to the captain. The radio clicked on, “Yeah, I thought so too. I cant remain mad at them though, I wouldn’t want to do constant calculations down here.” He has a point. But, this is a lot smaller than they led us to believe! We barely fit through some caves! The stalactites nearly scraped my window, but they were pointed at a peculiar angle. Odd. Why would they be pointed off to the side? Maybe the ship nudged them. 

    Passing 15,000m, we were nearing the point of the S.O.S., with enough Oxygen to get us back to the station with an hour to spare and enough fuel to get us to the surface and back, we were all feeling warily confident! The Crew had snuck a pack of Depth Gum for us onto the ship, so we were all feeling more relaxed than normal. Even with our ship barely fitting through some sections. The ship groaned a few metres down, made us all jump out of our seats! It was so loud we thought we scraped against the wall! Turns out the Ballast just kicked some sand from the bed! Our on board engineer screamed “Watch it! We dont want to poke a hole in the ballast, you know that right?” The captain quickly responded “I-I didnt hit it! The sonar didn’t state that the bed was anywhere close to us! We had about a 10 metre difference between the ballast and the sand bed!” “Uh-huh,” the engineer groaned, “just make sure you watch it next time. Please.” “Of course.” The captain wearily said. He looked more confused as he examined the Sonar, I peaked over and saw what was confusing him. The sand bed behind us was now much lower! How can that be? Its solid rock with a pile of sand on it! Thank god we only nicked the sand pile itself!

    Passing 17,000m, this cave is by far an anomaly! Nothing we have ever seen before! The cave walls shift! I swear on my life! I told the captain and he said nothing, just a blank stare. Of course, thats a staple of him. He wears drab attire, only his captain coat and hat set him apart from the rest of us. The generic blue captains coat was nothing to scoff at however, for he had a number of badges, all decorated his upper left shoulder. One patch was a commendation of performing 12 missions below 10,000m. This would be his 13th. Another patch showed his military service during The Fall. One for 40 years of service. Finally there was one I hadn’t recognized. A red patch, decorated with a blue rose in the middle with the words “Flos Occidere” encircling it. I know that Patch I just cant put a name to it!

    Passing 19,000m, we were approximately 1 hour from the S.O.S. The Captain turned to me, with his dead glare he said “I want you to go in the Suit and investigate the signal.” I was surprised, “Why me?” I asked. He spoke again, this time without tone “I want you to go in the suit and investigate the signal, thats an order.” I quickly responded “Yes sir!”. But something felt off about him. As we descended, the pressure began to stabilize and I asked him “May I go get a drink, sir?” He nodded quietly, eyes fixated on the sonar, which shifted every few minutes. I got up and began my descent into the musty storage, where I picked up a flashlight, a Seal, and a bottle of water. As I turned around the Engineering Chief was behind me, glaring at me with similarly dead eyes. “You got what you need for your dive?” I nodded, shaken by his posture and gaze, “Wait, how did you know I was diving? The captain never sent out a mess-” He turned around and grabbed a handheld sonar and the Dive Suit I was going to wear, “Better get prepared, we are only 500m from the bottom.” then he shoved them all into my arms and slowly walked away. I was trembling, both from that encounter, and the thought that we were already only 500m away from “The Bottom”. Which means either we are descending fast, or the caves shifted again, bringing the Beacon closer to us for some unexplained reason. 

    20,000m. We stopped just a few meters away from a Derelict, crushed into itself with triangular holes roughly grinded into the body. The scene was horrendous. I was alone in the jettison chamber, in my suit with an hour of oxygen available to me. I booted up my Seal, and it began to whir rapidly. I turned it off to preserve power, and gave a thumbs up to the camera. Voice Comms werent available in this suit, unfortunately, so I was on my own. The chamber opened and a cold wash of liquid cleaned the scuffs off my suit and I was immediately enveloped by the deep black. The ships bow lights were on, illuminated the whole of the wreck. I booted my Seal up again and it tugged me towards the wreck, where its perched flashlight poked into recesses and revealed exploded Oxygen Tanks and cracked glass. After surveying the outside, I wormed my way within through an incredibly large hold, the same triangular holds decorated the rim of it. The steel door ahead of me was covered in that ichor the crew on the station mentioned, so I wasnt getting in through that. Luckily the way the ship was bent showed a smaller hole that gave way to the inside. I barely squeezed through, and before I knew it I was inside the Medical Bay. Only a distorted arm floated towards the ceiling, other than that, the place was empty. I noticed that the door had claw marks on it, something with incredible strength tried to break in. I found the S.O.S. Beacon and turned it off. 

    As soon as the switch clicked into place, though, the lights from the sub were gone. Replaced by a deafening squeal of metal against stone, similar to that a rumble began beneath my feet! I had to get out of the sub! I clawed my way to a hole and began to tear through the rusted metal with only my hands. Unfortunately, the metal had cut a hole into my glove! I swam out, searching for my Sub, but nothing was there except the dead black! Limitless, I used my seal to chase upwards for a minute and found nothing, not even the cave walls! I felt a current, a pull, the water shifted from behind me! An unknown presence was here! I quickly descended back to the sub, and sheltered myself inside the Medical Bay. I saw something move, something massive! Enormous teeth and a gaping maw! Eventually, it all went black again, my light flickered off so all I could see was black! It came back on again, illuminated a pale figure in the distance, outside the hole in the sub, a massive mouth with hundreds of teeth, all swirling in an oval! It drew closer and closer, until I could see the shine of its teeth! It slammed into the sub, my light flashed off again, and all I could hear were the hideous moans emitted from the sub itself as it conformed to the mouth biting into it. The rumbling began again, god I cant take another cave shift! It continued for minutes on end until grinding to a halt! It was all quiet! My light still didnt work, the battery finally ran out! I felt the rush of the water, the water shifted again! But this time, it was next to me! I reached for my belt and grabbed an emergency flare, I struggled with the tip for a while and fumbled lighting it, until eventually, it snapped to life! And before me, illuminated by the red of my flare, a horrific figure appeared and disappeared again. It looked to have tentacles! I have no idea! I slowly rose to my feet, the whole medical bay was illuminated now, I could see the hole! Instantly I got up and swam out, where I was met with a distant sound that rang through my body. I felt something slowly envelope my leg, and tug me downwards. I let go of the flare and flailed back and forth as the thing grabbing me did! I was hurled into the sand, where I snagged a small pointed rock, which I used to jab into the gripping mass! With one hand I held it, and with the other I punched into the squishy thing with the rock! It let go, and I began to fall deeper. The flare was below me, showcasing a massive cave, something from my deepest nightmares! The walls were flexing and slowly writhing into itself, weaving a horrid shape around me. I continued to fall, feeling the water rush around me, watching the flare as it too fell. The walls began to slowly narrow, until only a small hole, big enough for one person to fit was found. It looked like it was excavated. When I gently landed beside the hole, I picked up the now dying flare. I raised it, nothing was around me! But i felt the water rushing to and fro. I reluctantly hopped into the hole, and slowly descended into it. I fell for what felt like hours, before reaching a small cave with no way out. When I hit the ground, a horrific sound bellowed through the cave. Another groan. The flare died out. I was alone in a crunchy pit. It felt like the floors were made of wood that had been burnt to cinders.

    An hour passed, I began crying, watching my Oxygen Supply deplete slowly. Just let me die already. Before me, I saw a small yellow light, it was growing in size! Its the end! I’m free! I jumped to my feet and stammered closer! On my approached I realized, it was something physical. The size of a Walnut, growing, becoming more bright. It began to illuminate something it was hanging on. I moved in for a closer look, my hand outstretched to grab the pulsing seed. Until the seed flashed brightly, and showcased the horror that held it. Long, gangly hands. All its bones were grotesquely lengthened, and a swirling mass of tentacles weaving into a ball laid at its feet. A human skeleton. Its ribcage still loosely intact, and its arms slowly enveloping me. The skull was fully dysmorphic, the upper half of the skull was lengthened with sharp, elongated teeth pointing from the front. Below its jaw hung, barely held to to the skull. From the roof of the mouth, the seed hung. How was it moving? The last thought that crossed my mind. Only to be answered, by the realization of that very black ichor covering the joints and crossing from one bone to another. As its arms closed in, its head moved towards me, and the light began to fade.

[justanotherexpatinkorea]

Update 2020~2021 // 업데이트 2020~2021

January 22, 2021 / 1월 22일 2021

WHAT A WILD RIDE IT’S BEEN (AND WILL BE)

It’s been almost a year since my last blog update. It feels like so much yet so little has changed.

For one, coronavirus has taken over our lives. Because of the virus, we’ve had to stay inside, stay home. I miss being able to travel, visit people, make new friends. All of that has come to a halt. In some ways it feels like life has stalled, become stagnant. Yet that’s the price we pay for staying safe.

COVID 19 has become more than anything we could’ve imagined. A global pandemic that affects the lives of every person on this planet. We’ve had to confront the worst possible outcomes, and find it within ourselves to work together with our communities to overcome it.

As of this writing, here are the stats:

South Korea:

confirmed cases = 73, 918

total deaths = 1,316

United States:

confirmed cases = 24,196,086

total deaths = 420,285

WTF AMERICA….

No country has been perfect in their COVID response. This is a wickedly difficulty problem to tackle. However, living in a foreign country during this unprecedented time, I’ve gained a valuable perspective on this pandemic.

I hate to say this, but I am embarrassed. So many countries around the world look up the US. We’re one of the wealthiest, most developed countries in the world. A strong democracy renowned for its freedom, liberty and justice for all. Among my friends and coworkers here in South Korea, many of them aspire to travel or live in the US one day. I used to encourage them to do so. However, I’m more hesitant now.

I was extremely disappointed in the way the US responded to the virus. We have all the resources, the manpower, the knowledge. All the things that make other countries think so highly of us. Yet despite our alleged greatness, why did the US fail so miserably? fail to contain the virus? fail to keep Americans properly informed in a timely manner? fail to provide strong leadership in such a desperate time? If ever there was a time to step up and band together, this would have been it. Yet in my opinion, America missed the mark horrendously. Hospitals are overflowing. COVID patients are dying in makeshift hospital beds set up in parking garages. People are ignoring the heed to mask up and socially distance. Simple actions that could save ones life and that of others. Yet many Americans are too selfish to look out for the health of their fellow countrymen.

Watching news from back home, there are things that seem so strange to me now. As an expat, I live outside the frame, analyzing from a different context.

Masks. I cannot for the life of me understand how masks become so  politicized. Korea, like many Asian countries, have been wearing masks for years. There is nothing controversial about it. It’s a piece of fabric designed to keep you and the people around you safe. A mere health-related courtesy. The fact that so many Americans cannot concede to this simple gesture makes me greatly concerned. Are we so divided as a nation? That when a global pandemic strikes - the worst health crisis in our lifetime - we cannot recognize the humanity in one another? Is there no love within us, to help us overcome this small personal discomfort for the sake of our fellow Americans? For the sake of us all? If we can’t grow up and do this one simple thing, I worry for our ability to tackle together the more complex issues facing our nation.

THE SOUTH KOREAN RESPONSE:

South Korea was one of the first hit by COVID. The proximity to China and the rapidity with which coronavirus spreads should have drastically increased the likelihood that the country would be decimated by the virus. But that’s not what happened. South Korea has become known worldwide as a model for how to approach the virus.

Widely and readily available testing and contact tracing

Mandatory masks and social distancing

Daily televised updates from government health officials - sharing data, updates on cases and deaths, etc.

Government measures (the closing and re-opening of schools, restaurants, businesses etc. depending on the current situation, in response to confirmed case numbers, etc. )

Quarantine for people coming from overseas, people who have had contact with COVID patients

In short, the Korean response was swift, thorough, and transparent. It required (and still requires) the collective will and cooperation of the people. Which includes myself.

As a teacher, my life has been affected professionally as well. I’m so lucky to have steady employment here as a government employee in the public schools. COVID-related measures in schools include: wearing masks at all times, washing hands regularly, sanitizing classrooms, social distancing as much as possible, keeping students separated and spread out in the cafeteria. And moving to online class when needed.

The government has a system of levels from 1 to 3. Here’s how the levels are decided and what measures they trigger. (For example, most places move to online classes around Level 2~2.5)

What is Level 1?

if the average cases per week are:

30 or fewer in a given province, 100 in large cities

socially distance when going out, wear a mask

What is Level 1.5?

if the average cases per week are:

increasing by 30 or more in a given province, 100 in large cities

if the average cases for people over 60 per week are:

increasing by 10 or more in a given province, 40 in large cities

Level 1+ thorough sanitizing of dangerous, infected areas

What is Level 2?

more than a week of level 1.5, and the cases in the affected community double and persist

OR total national cases reach at least 300, and persist for a week or more

Level 1.5 + recommend that unnecessary outings are limited, reduce meetings and gathering

What is Level 2.5?

total national cases reach 400~500, increase drastically and persist

special consideration - number of hospital beds for those with pre-existing conditions, elderly

Level 2 + stay home

What is Level 3?

total national cases reach 800~1,000, increase drastically and persist

Level 2.5 + stay home whenever possible, limit interactions with others as much as possible

YEAH, IT SUCKS

Around Christmas / New Year, Korea saw a spike in cases, about 300~500 a day. For Korea, this is considered dangerously high. (As an American I laugh at how small these numbers are, comparing it to the thousand of deaths that are occurring every day back home. But alas, this is no laughing matter, regardless of the magnitude of cases.)

The government introduced a new policy:

Gatherings of 5 or more people are banned.

This sucks big time. I was planning on doing a Secret Santa gift exchange with my friends, all thirteen of us. I really wanted to spend the holidays chowing down on sentimental comfort foods, having a drink or two, watching movies, etc. But we had to cancel everything. It was originally only a two-week policy, but the government has continued to extend it two weeks at a time. If COVID cases aren’t dramatically reduced, they’re not going to lift it. It sucks. I wish I could hang out, go out to restaurants and cafes and bars. But everyone is struggling through together. It would be easier to cast my worries aside and let up a little. But the risks are out there. COVID is a serious disease with serious consequences. Even if you don’t die you have the aftereffects of damaged lungs. And who knows what else? Years down the road, who knows what health concerns survivors will have to endure? It’s not worth it.

WHAT’S NEXT?

Like everyone else, I can’t wait for this to all be over. I can’t wait to travel again, explore, and live my life carefree. But who knows exactly when that will be.

However, there is one thing I know for sure. I’m  not moving back to the US any time soon. I’d rather live in a country where I have stable employment, in this unstable world. Where I can get rapid testing and readily available (and affordably dirt cheap!) health care should I happen to have a COVID scare. (Or any other health concern, for that matter.) Where I know the people around me respect their communities, and will wear a mask, etc.

Where people with guns and molotov cocktails and weapons don’t attack the buildings of their democracy. Where facts and reason aren’t under attack, in a way that is tearing apart the fabric of the nation. (But that’s a conversation for another day.)

Of course Korea isn’t perfect. There are flaws in this society that concern me deeply as well. But at the end of the day, I feel much more safe and comfortable in Korea than I do back home. As long as that’s true, this is the place where I will continue to live and make my life.