#i didn't realize how many words there would be

[lunarcrossingart]

"Until you are dead, I can't get married."

The sharp end of a sword tilted towards me as my younger sibling stood in trembled reverence. I had grown a lot bigger since my parents sealed me in this cave, but somehow, he still felt the same to me.

"Can't or won't?" I did my best to let my thundering voice be a soft purr in the cavern. The trinkets I had been given over the years clinked together regardless of how gentle I was. It came with the territory of being a monster.

His eyes held mine and his lip snarled. I gave an airy chuckle as I lifted my head and writhed my slender body. Within a blink he realized that I had blocked his exit. Yet, he never wavered in his footing as he tried to calculate how to reach my head again. It was clear he'd have to climb up my scales to even get that close.

Pitiful, really.

"Brother of mine, you can kill me, but under one condition." I grinned big and toothy. Each fang I had was far sharper than the sword Father and Mother gave him. There was no contest who was to die in our fight.

"You must spend seven days and seven nights with me, live as I live, eat what I eat, and do what I do. As soon as the eighth sun rises, then and only then, will I let you kill me."

"Do you accept?"

"I… Yes. I accept." He lowered his sword and looked at me with disdain. "What will you do first?"

—

I curled the tip of my tale to my chin and tapped the horns growing there softly. To be honest, I hadn't thought this out that far, but an idea found its way to me.

"First, introductions." I lowered my tail to his face and extended it towards him, "I am assuming Father and Mother named you, correct?"

"... Yes." He hesitated but ultimately accepted my 'handshake'. "I am Prince Zmija, second to the throne."

What.

"Second to the throne…?" I tilted my head, "Surely you are the first."

"Well I'm not, you are." He huffed and tossed away my tail. He continued to chatter as I watched the arch of my tail. I didn't want to break another part of my home and flicked it out of sight underneath my unending body. Actually, how long was I now? Surely the size of a small village with how many times I had to coil up in-

"Hey, are you even listening?!" Whoops. I turned my attention back to my brother and shook my head. He gave a light scoff.

"What did Father and Mother call you? Surely, it is more creative than my name."

"Nothing." When I spoke those words, I noticed it didn't hurt to admit that anymore. When there was silence, I assumed the conversation was over, and began to curl up for a nap. I had closed my eyes when he spoke up again.

"Nothing? As in, they named you 'nothing'?" He asked. I heard the shuffle of his feet towards the mouth of the cave. With a heavy sigh, I lifted away what kept him here.

"If you wish to learn my name then you must enter my village. You must do as I do, and introduce yourself to each person. When night falls, I want you back here, so we may eat."

"However," I peeked an eye open, "You must tell me the name of each villager you've met. That way, I know you've done as I asked. Then and only then, will I tell you my name."

"And if I don't?" He asked, a foot already out the 'door'.

"Then I will find you, and I will eat you instead." I closed my eye and yawned. Today was tiring. "Do you accept?"

…

"Yes. I accept."

—

"Brother, I have returned."

I opened my eyes and saw the glow of my stare on the ground. The fire behind my eyes was dimmer than yesterday. That was normal as of late. Soon there would be a thick film over it. I rose again in my small home to meet my younger brother.

"Welcome home." My tongue flicked out and tasted the meat in the air. "Have you brought our meal?"

"Yes." He held the side of a nervous steer. A bag placed over its head and more bags placed onto its back. My brother began to unpack the animal and relieve it from its load.

"And who's to thank for lending you their horse?"

"Lending?" He asked, baffled, "I mean, aren't you eating this animal?"

"No." The hiss in my voice made him jump, "Just because Jan has given it freely to me does not mean I will take it."

"How did you know that Jan gave you this horse?" My brother, Zmija I think, dumped the bags of food onto a woven mat.

"The villagers give me lots of things." I inched closer to him, watching bright fruits and cheese decorate the ground. "To many nice things, honestly."

"This-," Zmija huffed as he unloaded another bag, "This can't be enough for something your size!"

"It's not." I wrapped my tongue around some bread that caught my attention. Gone within a lick. I didn't even know what it tasted like. "But I find I do not need much. Food sits in me longer than it would a human."

"Now, besides Jan, who else provided for us tonight?" I asked, I rooted out the foods that I used to love as a kid, and reminded myself to leave space for Zmija.

He accepted the invitation more readily than I thought. Everyone must have put in a good word for me. As they should. I've given them no reason otherwise.

"Well, there was Ewa who made the bread, and this older person- shit what was his name?" He broke apart pieces of the dried meat, making himself a sandwich. I smiled.

"Was he a short, stocky guy?"

"No, that was Barnaba, this guy was taller. He looks like he could be Ewa's spouse but instead he-"

"Instead, Piotr is her childhood best friend."

"Yes, and Piotr actually likes this man-"

"Don't tell me he's still pining after the Blacksmith."

"Ok, but have you seen the muscles on Mariusz? I get it." He nodded sagely at me as he plucked an nut from the pile. "But you see, Mariusz actually likes this other person-"

I let Zmija talk and tell me about his day. Whenever he would begin to blank on a name, I'd supplement. The town was small and the people frequently visited me. The list was completed before I gobbled up the last pile of provisions.

"Your name." Zmija started, "What did Father and Mother name you?"

I paused, understanding the misunderstanding. Then I ate again once I mulled over my thoughts.

"You were the only one they named, Zmija." I licked away a crumb in my eye, "But I call myself Lindworm. That is the name you will use to return the horse tomorrow morning, and the name that demands all available milk they have to.offer. You are to do what I do and take the milk from the village."

"Do you accept?"

Something thoughtful crossed Zmija's face.

"Yes. I accept."

—

During the night I had expected Zmija to make an attempt on my life. Yet, after the draw of his blade, I only felt the palm of his hand on my snout. Unconsciously, he rubbed the spot.

"... I can't even remember the last time I had company for dinner. Let alone eat with family."

How pitiful.

—

As the cold nears, I've been sleeping more. 

Bits of my day fade in and out like wind against the land. I do not remember when my brother left, but I do recall when he returned. While I could no longer see him, I could taste him and the milk in the air. I lifted my head up and looked at the moving blob.

"Have you returned with the milk?"

"Yes." Zmija's voice hardly echoes in the cave. "The villagers said that they would help me tomorrow… but what are they helping me with, Lindworm?"

"I will tell you, but first you must help me initiate my task."

The blob moved away from the light and I swiveled to keep track of him. The shadows and shapes were too hard to tell apart. I couldn't see what he held in his hands.

"And if I don't?"

He echoed those words again.

"If it is consequences you want, then it is consequences I will give." I lifted my head until it touched the ceiling. The water on the stalactite dripped over my eye and down my chin. I suppose I look rather threatening with clouded eyes as I heard a pot shatter.

"I am to shed my scales. This process can take from three days to five days. You will attend to me for its entirety." 

"With the villagers, you will  bathe me in milk and collect each skin I shed. Once I have shed my seventh skin, then and only then I will divulge what you are helping the villagers with."

"Do you accept?"

There was quiet between us.

"... I need time to think about this."

"If you do not return tonight, then I will find you, and I will eat you instead."

"... Very well then." He responded.

I watched the blob, Zmija, exit through the light.

—

Thousands of tiny needles prick at my consciousness. The sensation was more annoying than painful. I rubbed my face against the cavern wall, but it was smoothed from the years I had lived here. I had considered using the ceiling but that was before my friends started to give me their items to safeguard and keep.

No one really thinks to steal from a thing like me.

Plenty have tried. All have failed.

Now, my father and mother have decided to deal with me in the only way they knew. 

How pitiful.

"Lindworm?" Zmija called from the entrance. More blobs were with him. Their torches bright in the dark night.

"Do you have an answer for me?" I carefully unfurled for my guests. Many villagers were already dowsing the rags in the milk.

"Yes. I accept." I assumed he patted my nose after he said that. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Like clockwork, everyone lined my body with rags full of milk, and let it soak on the weak points of my skin. I had asked Zmija to place the ladden fabric over my eyes and so I could peacefully drift off.

The sharpening of a blade stirred me awake.

"Brother, is that you?"

The whetstone stops…

"Yes."

Huh. 

"Why are you still here? Surely this entire space stinks to the high heavens."

"Well," Zmija drawled, putting the sword down somewhere, "You said to do as you do so… I'm also doing the milk thing."

Something like a laugh escaped my mouth.

"What! We're brothers, right?" Zmija stammered, "Maybe I also have some magic properties too like fertilizer hair! Or something!"

"Ah, they told you?" I asked. No need to mention that I was referring to the villagers.

"Yes, incredible to think your sheds fertilizes acres of land."

"And grows our flowers."

"Huh?"

I felt an itch in my insides. There was an uncomfortable pack of air that was making its way down my throat. I didn't think I would talk about this so soon.

"Are we alone, Zmija?" I tried to taste the air, but all I could smell was spoiled milk.

"Yes."

"Did mother tell you how we were born?"

"... No. She didn't like to talk about it."

"Do you want to know? It will help with what I will ask of you next."

The quiet. He thought a lot.

"Yes. I want to know why you are a person in a monster's skin and I… a monster in a person's skin."

Oh… I hadn't thought about that before. Granted, I didn't realize Zmija had been hurt by our parents too. Knowing what they did to me, I could only imagine the cruelty they had shown to him.

"Monsters don't know they're monsters, they think they're heroes." I shifted to scratch my side against the wall, but my skin hardly moved. "Righteousness is a dangerous thing, Zmija. People will do a lot to feel that way."

He didn't reply so I continued.

"Our parents needed children to inherit the throne but they were barren. Instead of accepting this fact, they continued to look for a way to conceive biological children."

"Mom said she wanted to have kids. It-it wasn't some political plan."

A weak rebuttal.

"If that was true, she would have taken in children who are in need. Plenty of children go without their parents and could use a home. Many of them find their way to me, but you know this."

I shifted my jaw to relieve a tightness there.

"If she wanted children, you and I would have been raised side by side. We weren't. I was locked here instead and now she's sent you to hide her shame. This was never about you or me. This is her story."

I clicked my teeth together, I had rehearsed this many times to whoever lent an ear, but it felt clunky as I explained to my brother. There wasn't enough that I knew that I could give to him as a solid answer. He'd remain hungry to know the whys as much as I starve for them.

"She consumed two bewitched flowers to conceive us. When I came into the world, malshapened and horrid, she was appalled. Believing to have been played for a fool. However, she claims that my form was not her fault. She placed the blame on the old crone who told her about the flowers."

"What happened to the old woman?"

"I wish I knew." A twinge went along my spine. "When she had you, well, you were what she wanted. To her disappointment, I had the birthright, and the entire kingdom already knew of us. She put me here and hoped I died."

"But you didn't."

"I didn't only because people cared for me. I am sure it is the same for you too."

Another quiet, this time I welcomed it.

"So… these flowers make kids like us?"

"I don't know."

A part of my body flipped over but it was far away from where I thought Zmija was.

"Like her, I also eat the flowers too to sustain myself. I have done so for years now. I assume, since I lack a womb, the magic has no vessel to escape to."

"Except in your sheds of skin."

"Yes."

"But no one knows what the flowers do, not even you Lindworm."

…

"What do the flowers look like?"

"One is luscious and the other is withered." I paused, "You'll know them when you see them."

"And you need them?"

"No." A lie.

"But it is the only thing that I can think of to get rid of them." A truth.

…

"I'll get them for you." Zmija decided.

"Thank you, brother." I went to settle in again-

A snap.

I try to lift my head to the sound, but I am too weak. There's a hand on my snout and I smell the oil from Zmija's sword mixed with milk.

"Stay here. I'll go see what that was."

And I did.

With the world quiet and dark, I fell asleep in the cave. A womb that wouldn't ever let me go.

—

Seven skins were gathered from me in five days.

Even with Zmija's help, my body has grown more from the previous years and became more difficult to deal with. My brother had found plenty of use for his blade. Zmija cut deep into the softened layers of dead skin and pulled it apart. With each cut he made, I wondered if he'd 'slip' and see how far his blade would reach on my new skin.

Yet, his hand was steady as always.

I talked to the villagers. Learned what was happening in my friends' lives. Heard good news and bad news. Laughed. Smiled. Told them goodbye in my own way. No one was the wiser.

But I knew that I was to be killed. If not by my brother's hand then by someone elses.

… Zmija never told me if he found anyone that night, but I knew he did. After the stench of milk wafted away, I could smell the meat in the air as this person watched us each night. I wondered why nothing had happened yet.

Finally, at dinner, I decided to break the silence.

"Zmija. I am now weak." I couldn't even eat. "I can no longer leave this place. I am too big. This is why I need you to-"

"I'm not killing you." He stated. "I decided not to a long time ago."

He got up and leaned against my face. His arms spread wide in an attempt to hug me. He pulled away and moved to my line of sight. Sword drawn.

"I'll get those flowers and I'll be back. Then," He paused, an awkward smile to his face, "If you wish, I can take you home with me. Do you accept?"

"No."

The air became stilted between us. He still didn't understand.

"Zmija, this is my home. I would rather marry the next woman I see than ever go back to that place."

Zmija paced and bit his lip. He went through different expressions and thoughts. As if he needed me to say 'yes'. I'd save him the heartache.

"If you do not return the flowers to me, then I will find you and eat you. I expect to see them on our eighth morning tomorrow. Then, and only then, will you be free of me."

He owlishly looked at me and twisted the handle of his blade. Undecided. It's too late to be undecided.

Luckily, I decided a long time ago.

"Go, Zmija." I used the full strength of my voice, or what was left of it. The rumble of it even shook my own innards. When he did not leave, I folded in on myself. My head was tucked out of sight.

I closed my eyes and I slept.

—

The flowers were exactly as Lindworm described them.

One was luscious. The petals were supple and it was adorned with many leaves along its stalk. So many, in fact, the flower tipped over. Even with the burden, the stalk stayed strong, and bent to accommodate itself.

The other was withered. The few petals it had were dry and brittle. The stem was more of a darken twig than a living thing. If you could call it living at all.

I could relate to that one, as my own insides had felt the same for a long time.

There wasn't much time to marvel at the ethereal flowers. I was racing against a clock that I didn't know the pace of. I used my sword as a spade to get the flowers out. I needed to remove the roots and all. Any part of it being left behind could mean anything. Likely, unlucky things, such as what happened to our family.

I caressed the plants close to my chest. The scent of life and decay mixed into a wet musty smell. In all honesty it shouldn't smell good but I found myself taking a deeper breath. A curious thought pulled itself to my attention. One that was hard to argue with as I began to open my mouth.

All that power could be mine.

Instead of the nonmagical, submissive whelp I had been to my parents. They could be scared of me for a change. If I had the power my brother had, then all that suffering I went through would finally be rectified. There could be no more pain if I had an ounce of what Lindworm had.

…

I pulled away.

The action took all my might and made my insides churn to do so. 

My brother had given me the ounce of his life. This past week, I had what Lindworm had. I lived as he lived, ate what he ate, and did what he did. If there was anything I didn't receive from him, it was given to me by his friends.

My mouth felt dry as I looked to the peak where his body laid. I'd been a fool and an idiot to have left him there. My feet carried me before my mind caught up but when it did, I scrambled up the mountainside hoping there was still time. 

I can make amends. I know I can.

—

There, in the dark cave, was a splotch of dark red. 

Something had been dragged through the cave and left its trail by Lindworm's mouth. His eyes were glassy and distant. Zmija darted to his brother's side and fell to his knees.

"No." Zmija reached out to Lindworm's snout but no air left the creature. Zmija tried to open Lindworm's mouth but it took both of his hands to hold open Lindworm's jaws. 

The flowers stayed uselessly outside of his reach.

He sobbed.

He let go and curled up. Crumpled, withered, and filled with remorse. Zmija looked at the flowers and kept hoping they'd whisper some solution to him. A way where they all win and live on.

A curious thought entered his mind and his sobs muffled.

…

"I guess, you will have to eat me then."

Zmija shoved the flowers into his mouth and swallowed them. The rough stalk of the withered was hardly masked by the soft petals of the luscious. It didn't matter. Zmija didn't care.

He pried open Lindworm's jaws and threw himself inside. He pushed himself further and further down Lindworm's throat until he gave up. He curled up again, like a caterpillar waiting to be emulsified in its cocoon. Zmija wondered if this would even work.

How pitiful.

—

The morning came and a stillness was over the land.

The Prince, Zmija, had been eaten by a creature known as the Lindworm. 

The cursed prince.

The kingdom cried with the crown and a public funeral was held in Zmija's honor. The empty casket that rested in the church was filled with fresh flowers. People were encouraged to pay their respects and they brought more flowers for the young prince.

Flowers upon flowers ladden the casket until it spilled onto the floors. When the pews filled with flowers, then people turned to the streets, and so on until there wasn't a single flower left in the kingdom.

The King and Queen held hands as they looked on to their subjects. There wasn't a dry face in the crowd. The thought of Zmija being so missed almost brought a smile to their faces. Even though they had experienced a great tragedy, the kingdom mourned with them.

How lovely.

The Queen approached the railing and waited for a hush over the crowd.

"We appreciate you coming out here today to honor our Prince Zmija. He cared much for us and that is why he set out to do what he did."

She held a breath, and rubbed her thumb against the back of her hand. People kept their gaze on her.

"As you know, we had found a neighboring kingdom to make an alliance with and they sent us over their most beautiful daughter. Unfortunately, they were made aware that Prince Zmija was the second born but not of the cursed condition of the first born."

The Queen patted away tears from her face.

"So, they ask for us to marry her to the Lindworm."

A murmur in the crowd.

"We couldn't in good conscious accept these terms to marry their daughter to a monster. That would be cruel and unusual to put anyone through. So, Prince Zmija decided to put an end to the Lindworm."

"Our knights that we posted nearby had informed us that Prince Zmija had successfully killed the beast at the cost of his own life. I can only blame myself for not stopping him sooner. There are so many things that I want to tell him-."

"Like what?!"

Prince Zmija yelled from the crowd as it parted for him. People gasped and awed at the relatively unscathed Zmija. Flowers decorated his outfit as the residents adorned him in wreaths. The commotion around the young prince was engulfed by silence.

A large… something trailed behind the young prince.

"I think it's an apology." The Lindworm hissed, "Which I will accept, when and only when you step down from the throne."

Despite being cursed into a monster and being banished by your royal parents, you were happy with your life. Your home was peaceful. You always had enough to eat. You even had friends despite your appearance, so yeah your life was great. Your non-cursed sibling's life, on the other hand

[yoitsjay]

This is more cause the Epic musical ended, but can you do like Jason x Reader based on the final song “Would you fall in love with me again” like Jason returns to reader after Jokers gone, he’s fought to return to her while feeling like he’s no longer human, reader arguing how long shes missed him and he obviously still cares. You can add smut if you want but i feel like Jason needs an Odysseus ending.

EPIC THE MUSCICAL MENTION?

Your Still Human

Summary: throughout everything she waited. He fought for her, she waited for the moment he returned to her side. Now he was home, and he didn't believe that she still loved him, despite all he's done. But she can make him believe.

Warnings: slight angst, Jason todd backstory shit, arguing, reader slaps him into reality (literally), light smut, not really descriptive.

Word Count: 1931

A/n: I feel like whenever anyone says "you can write smut if you want" is a very passive aggressive way to say they want to fuck the character they requested. LMAO, if u want smut, ASK FOR IT, and be specific if u want smth special. 😃

Gotham City never sleeps, not even under the weight of snowflakes that dust the cracked pavement and the jagged rooftops. The air was sharp tonight, biting against your cheeks as you tightened your scarf, shivering in the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. Winter in Gotham had always felt heavy, oppressive even, but this one weighed on you differently.

Two years. Two years since the night Jason died.

The thought lingered, as unwelcome as the gusts of wind that snuck through the gaps in your coat. The Joker had taken him—your best friend, your love, your anchor. And while the world had kept turning, the city humming along with its chaos and crime, your own clock had stopped that night.

You stood at the edge of the East End, the skyline swallowed by a curtain of falling snow. Somewhere out there, Bruce was probably brooding in the shadows, and Dick might be chasing down a lead. But you? You couldn’t bring yourself to move. This corner of the city felt quieter, like even Gotham’s perpetual noise knew better than to intrude on your grief.

In your pocket, your gloved fingers curled around a worn photograph. The edges were frayed from how many times you’d unfolded it, staring at Jason’s crooked grin, the light in his eyes that had always seemed so unshakable. You could almost hear his voice in the silence, teasing you for standing out in the cold without gloves—though, this time, you were wearing them.

A crack in the snow behind you startled you from your thoughts. You turned sharply, heart thudding, but it was only the wind sweeping an empty soda can across the ground. Still, the moment reminded you of where you were—Gotham wasn’t safe, not even for someone who had loved a Robin.

You sighed and tucked the photo back into your pocket, pulling your hood up against the cold. Jason would’ve told you to keep moving, to stay sharp. And though your grief threatened to anchor you in place, you took a step forward.

The city was still alive, and so were you. For now, that would have to be enough.

you made your way from the side of the building and back to the door that leads to the staircase. You took your time walking down, keeping one earbud in, one out so that you could still listen to the music you enjoyed, while staying vigilant to the dangers.

The Wayne’s were your family, through and through, especially after that night, you knew they would always have some form of eye on you, whether it was Oracle through city surveillance cameras, or one of Bruce's adopted menagerie of children making sure you got home safe in the evening.

You finally arrived at your apartment building, though as you approached your door, you quickly realized something was off. The door was ajar, but there was no sign of forced entry, no cracked, splintered or broken door frame or handle, no scratches.

Tentatively, you pulled out the pocket knife that alwaysat heavy in your left pocket. It was a silvered blade, short but deadly sharp, and the handle was red, polished wood and resin. A goft from Jason, before he had died. he made you promise to use it if your life was ever in danger, to fuck bruces no killing rule if it meant you stayed alive.

you promised you would.

You approached the apartment, knife gripped tightly in your dominant hand as you slowly pushed open the door, glancing around the darkness of your loft. It was a very open concept, but you loved it. You could easily see up the stairs to where your bedroom was, and from the loft you could see below to the living room and kitchen.

The large windows provided bright moonlight, which illuminated the apartment. At least it wasnt pitch black.

Cautiously, you moved further into the appartment, checking the corners, sticking close to the wall as you studyied the living area, seeing nothing out of place, nothing turned over or destroyed. Alright, not a robbery. But that didnt mean it was any less dangerous.

You heard some shuffling, coming from above, on the lofted area where your bedroom was. You narrowed your eyes. You should be smart, and leave the appartment and call Dick, Tim or Bruce to come investigate, and make sure it was safe…

but then an oddly familiar scent hit your nose as you crept up the staircase, keeping the knife firmly gripped as you slowly poked your head over the last step on the staircase, keeping low as you spotted a shadowed figure seated on your bed, looking through an album.

your private album with polaroid pictures you took of \jason, and yourself, when you were both kids and he was alive.

Slowly you rose up, and you flicked on the bedroom light.

then your knife clattered to the ground.

Familiar eyes stared up at you, though once a deep blue, they now shone almost tealish green in color, though, perhaps that suited him more.

“Jason”.

Your voice flooded the area first, breath stolen away as a diffrent, but familiar man slowly rosr to his feet, already towering over you, even from a few feet away.

“You didnt move out.”

he voiced observantly, glancing around the loft apartment. “new furniture though, i like it.” He added, his gaze falling back to you, and your dumbfound expression.

“Your dead.”

“Lazerus pit.”

“ah…”

Silence once more, until he took a step forward, you flinched, but didnt moce back as he slowly, cautiously approached, before crouching down and grabbing the knife that had fallen from your hands.

“Have you used it?”

He asked, and you shook your head.

“Only to peel an apple. don’t think that counts.” you muttered softly, eyes following his movements as he stood back up, closing the knife before handing it back to you… tentitively you reached out, though rather than grabbing the knife, you grased his hand.

He was real, here, standing right in front of you.

You let out a sob, and your knees began to buckle, but his arms were quickly wrapped around you, and he was holding you close, his face, scarred, older, buried into your hair, the scent not changed since he saw you last.

“Y/n…” He trailed off, his voice cracking as he squeezed you gently in his arms. “i tried to come sooner, you were the only thing on my mind- im so sorry.” Jason whispered, feeling you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, hands sliding into his soft, black, and now white streaked hair.

“is it really you?” You asked, voice cracking as you pilled back, looking into his teal green eyes, moving your hand down to his chee, thumb brushing over the J shaped scar in his cheek, causing you to from as he flinched slightly, though didnt pull back.

“You look diffrent, older… broken”

Jason frowned, his eyes searching yours before he removed his arms from around you and he pulled back, looking out of the large windows, the moonlight illuninating the haunted look in his eyes.

“Ill be honest Princess… im not the man you fell in love with.”

He breathed out in a chuckle, slipping his hands into his pockets as his eyebrows furrowed.

“im not kind, gentle or- any of that bullshit you knew…”

He trailed off, trying not to notice the way your frown deepend, and how tears glistened your cheeks.

“Ive done so many bad things… trying to get back to you, to my world… things i- i cant take back…”

His worlds trailed off, and he glanced in your direction as you approached, sliding your hand up his arm, to his bicep.

“what have you done?”

you asked, voice soft, quiet. you were afraid it would break if you spoke up any louder.

“i-”

Jason paused, frowning as he looked away, balling his hands into fists within his pockets.

“I’ve killed people darlin’- a lot of people. i was so angry, i left a trail of blood everywhere i went… but my goal was always you, princess.” He replied, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at you.

“If that's true.” you spoke up tentatively, “Then take your knife back, and slit my throat.”

you demanded it so sternly, and his eyes flew wide open as he took a step back.

“What?” he barked out, glaring down at you. “Why the fuck would you say something like that Y/n? i would never hurt you, i love-”

His words were cut off as your hands grabbed his face, and you pulled him down, smashing your lips against his.

Jason quickly melted into it, his muscular arms wrapping around you, holding you firmly against him as he relished in the feeling of your lips against his.

Fuck, he whined when you pulled away.

“Only the Jason Todd I knew would say that, would love me so unconditionally that he killed anyone in his path just to get back to me.”

You breathed out brushing some white strands of hair from his eyes, so you could take in all the trauma, the sadness locked away behind them.

“I love you, i missed you- and don’t you dare call yourself a monster, Jason Todd, i'm not Bruce, i don't care how many you’ve killed, it just means there's one less criminal in the world. I know damn well you still care about me.” you stated sternly.

he was silent for a little, holding you, taking your words in, before he chuckled, and his eyes closed as he pressed his forehead to yours. Muttering an ‘im sorry’

“Theres nothing to be sorry about.”

You replied, smiling when he simply snorted, and said nothing else… until he did.

“I need you.”

He whispered, and you raised an eyebrow, studying his facial features, the way his bottom lip quivered slightly.

“You have me me Jas-”

“No Y/n- i need you.”

He whimpered.

he fucking whimpered.

Your face heated up significantly, though he made no sudden movements as you continued running your fingers through his soft black locks.

“Oka-”

You couldn't even finish your sentence because his lips were already locked against yours, his arms under your ass as he hoisted you up with ease and spun you around before placing you on the bed, stealing your breath away with every kiss he stole from you, his own soft, needy grunts already filling the room as you felt him grind his massive bulge into the plushness of your thigh, one arm wrapped around said thigh to keep it secured as he rutted against you.

“Jason-” You managed to grunt out between every kiss, letting out a soft moan as he nipped at the skin of your neck.

“You're mine.” He growled out, like he was fucking feral.

“m’ never gunna leave you again princess, never- fuck- will you let me use that pretty pussy? yeah? Let me claim you?” he grunted with each particularly rough grind against your thigh.

Words and sounds mingled into one as the night progressed, the open apartment door left forgotten as he all but consumed you.

In the end you laid in his arms, letting him hold you as tightly as he needed to as cum leaked from between your legs, bruises littered all across your skin. But Jason was back, your prince of gotham was home. safe in your arms.

if it were you who died, and crawled back to life…

you would have destroyed the whole world just to see him again.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi

Batfam tag:

Jason Todd tag:

Jason todd smut tag:

[wordbunch]

a/n: to all my moots and friends, no you didn't see me post this and yes im still your comfort lotr girl!!! to all others, hello & welcome to my newest obsession yes I have been corrupted. ENJOY!!!!

emperor Geta headcanons

warnings: toxic behavior obviously lol, mild nsfw-ish mentions, this man should be taken with caution by all means

this man loves like he was starved and then brought to a feast - he inhales and devours every inch of you, every texture, scent, sound, personality trait, quirk, he will eat you UPPPP in every sense of the word; he wants his senses full of you and he can't ever get enough

he is definitely a very obsessive and possessive person, observant, sharp, witty. also when it comes to prayers and sacrifices, he means business - he dead seriously prayed for a wife who was headstrong, intelligent, passionate and fearless; someone who could match him in every way, whom he could verbally spar with, word for word, but also someone who'd have his back unconditionally as he doesn't really have many people to genuinely rely on. he wanted an equal, and he was also hoping for someone either his age or even a bit older - he was afraid of having a childish partner who wouldn't properly fill in a tremendously important role

he is 110% a switch and it fully depends on what kinda day he'd had and the mood he's in

contrary to many interpretations and rumors, he isn't horny 24/7!!!! like yes he IS insanely attracted to you, but his days can be so impossibly draining and tedious so sometimes he would just rather lie down with you and have you close, than do anything else. also, he doesn't do quickies or anything of the sort; he likes to go all in and take his sweet time with you, or let you have your way with him. he enjoys being dedicated and not distracted in bed with you. all in or nothing for this man. and yes he is vocal.

one thing that makes him feel absolutely AMAZING (and you realized quite quickly thankfully)is when you draw him a bath - yes it must be YOU specifically who does it - and then either give him a shoulder rub or wash his hair, or both. he will become putty in your hands and relax more than he can explain in words. pamperrr him sometimes 🥹😭 he finds it so thoughtful that you do this for him at the end of a taxing day; after all, there is nothing in the world he wouldn't do for you.

speaking of, when Geta notices something is off with you, he won't ask if he can make you happy again somehow, he will ask you to name what you want him to do, and he will do it. you are the only person with that effect on him.

most definitely is turned on by someone who is smart and witty and perceptive. also he has very keen eyes and he can read even your slightest signals, even in a crowded room, especially in a crowded room, and he also appreciates when you can read him without him having to verbalize anything to you

the most Protective Person of all time, God forbid someone looks at you wrong!!!

showers you with gifts

you will LOVE this - he likes when you match in some subtle, or obvious, way, like the same pattern on your robes, the same gems on your jewels, anything that shows off your bond and shows that you belong to him and he belongs to you completely. 🤍

almost weekly he has night terrors and horrible dreams either about his childhood/how they were treated by their father, or about something awful happening to you. you always do your best to comfort him, knowing that you're the only one who can do that and the only one allowed to see him in such a state

so you whisper sweet nothings to him, like promises you would never hurt him in any way and that you will always do your best to protect him and love him

touch starved, touch obsessed, cannot sleep without you in the bed, cannot sleep when you are on a journey somewhere and misses you terribly; can barely wait for you to return and then grip you in his arms and just breathe you in

obsessed with your scent

very often you are his impulse control and you just have the power to center him when he's losing his grip on a situation

he is so used to being in control (or having to be), that he will really spiral when a situation is getting out of hand and he feels not powerful enough to stop or change something. he is really bad at holding it together when shit is going down, and half the time he seems to be two steps away from a breakdown. honestly, sometimes you just have to let him rage, panic, and vent it out in whatever way, and he will come back to himself- and to your embrace-shortly.

he needs your approval and appreciation like air. if you don't think he is doing a good job, if you don't think (and show) he is smart, capable, if he isn't the center of your universe, nothing else matters at all

he will combust if he doesn't have at least a hand on you at all times

sometimes he still can't believe how you love him - people who touch him usually either want something from him, fear him, despise him, or all those - your gentle touch is an unfamiliar, yet welcome sensation; he can't get enough.

let's be real he can get anything he wants from you when he looks at you with those gigantic brown eyes, but somehow he seems unaware of that (and you already give him everything anyway)

if big gatherings and constant celebrations aren your thing, he will not let you out of his sight and, as much as you need him there to comfort you, he needs you on his arm to feel happy, safe and fulfilled. you just complete each other. 💛

as much as he enjoys every single loving nickname you give him, especially if you call him 'your' anything - your love, your darling, your heart, your pride and joy - but even more he will melt if you just call him by his name, as one of the very few (if not only) person who utters it with love, softness, adoration...unlike many who spit it out hatefully like poison

Geta feels veryyyy smug and proud of himself when he does an act of service for you, such as giving you a massage or bringing you a drink - look at him, he gets served things left and right, but he remains SO devoted to you only.

well, was that something? leave it to me to humanize the worst (actually historical) person ever and give him some PROPER FLUFF🫠

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep. 5 + ep. 6) [rewatch]

Rewatching is hard :D I got so sucked into the show (again!) that I didn't even bother stopping to process it (again!).

But this scene/sequence/episode in particular is so precious - not only do we get to meet Li Lun again, but he establishes himself as ZYZ's rival and the enemy of their whole little team for the nearest future.

We also see him get hurt by Zhao Yuanzhou's words and, what's even more fascinating, we see ZYZ and Zhuo Yichen work together in such unison against him, effortlessly and quite naturally like they've done it their whole lives.

Zhao Yuanzhou doesn't even think twice about protecting Zhuo Yichen, having already noticed Li Lun's presence at the end of ep.5 (and he may not have the Truth Eye, he may not be tuned into Li Lun with his heart like before, but he spots Zhuo Yichen's sword glow and he does realize it must be him before anyone else can, and that still speaks volumes about how much that man meant to him, at least, before).

This episode has that extra layer of depth because Zhuo Yichen gets to dream for the first time in a long while, and what a dream it is! That whole Inception-esque sequence of going deeper into his psyche and his very soul using water as a portal (so cool!) until he reaches not even his own dreams, but a variation of Wen Xiao's memory (so meta!) where he witnesses her being killed by Zhu Yan and he can't save her (probably one of his biggest fears, to not be able to save the person he cherishes the most, again, just like it happened with his brother).

But that last dream must have a deeper metaphorical meaning because when he realizes that Zhu Yan isn't the ultimate evil that he has to fight outside of himself, but merely a representation of his own helplessness and fear and that malicious energy that was his own and not something created by Zhu Yan, then he gets his moment of epiphany and, maybe, as I imagine it, that is also a major shift in his understanding of life and fate and what role Zhao Yuanzhou played in all of it, which later helps him forgive ZYZ when he finds out that it wasn't actually him personally who killed his brother and father, which makes all the difference.

Like, it's such an important moment for him to be able to dream and to find himself again, and truly meet with his darkest fears inside of that dream, that I can only applaud the showrunners for putting this extra layer of depth into the development of Zhuo Yichen's character.

And, of course, there's the notion of Zhao Yuanzhou sacrificing himself just to help Zhuo YIchen see, to show him the truth, whatever it was, like he was already tuned in so much into Zhuo Yichen and what was happening to him that he could at least guess even without using the mind-link about what horrors would torment this young man in his dreams. And knowing very well that he's pretty much on top of the list of his possible nightmares.

And making the other see is such an important theme in this show. Because some people just see the truth naturally (like Zhuo Yichen) while others stay blind while even having the Truth Eye (like Li Lun).

That it is Zhao Yuanzhou who lets Zhuo Yichen pierce his heart and uses his blood to wake up the sword and, subsequently, wake up ZYC and bring him back to life from the death-dream, already speaks volumes about the bond they are already sharing and what it would turn into later. Wen Xiao wouldn't have been able to bring Zhuo Yichen back from that dream, and no one else could. It's such a shared fate/destiny moment, especially knowing that it was Li Lun who created this whole situation to begin with and gave Zhuo Yichen his dreams back. So many layers, oh my god.

[tangents-within-tangents]

Hey if you see my most recent reblog, I have already apologized. And explained my misunderstandings and miscommunications. I get that the things I was responding to probably came from my own misinterpretations of what your ask was talking about. My fucking bad.

I've learned, I've admitted wrong, I'm trying to implement those changes. Idk what else I can do. I regret this post and how it's affected people, but deleting it won't get rid of it, so what else can I do but apologize and try to do better?

Regardless, everything you are saying I'm arguing for is not what I was trying to say. Most of your questions I have already clarified multiple times in my other reblogs/replies and I'm tired of repeating myself.

aro and ace identities are about diff things. also, you could argue THOSE ones are "additional" to other identities like bi/homo/pan/etc. like whats your logic here?

Here's my logic: Say we have someone who thinks they are straight and labels themself as such. Overtime they realize they are actually bi. They change the label from 'heterosexual' to 'bisexual'. Later they discover they are ace, but not aro. They could then change the label to 'biromantic asexual' (even though when they identified as bisexual they didn't feel the need to say 'biromantic and bisexual' it was implied to mean both). If they then discover they are aplatonic they would label themselves as 'biromantic asexual aplatonic'. Right? If they discover they are also non-binary: 'biromanic asexual aplatonic non-binary'. That's what I meant by additional.

Clarifying distinctions between identities/umbrellas (where they are similar and helpfully grouped and where they are not) is not exclusive. That's why I used comparisons to other Lgbt+ stuff. Would you say that creating the term 'bisexual' or "trans" is exclusive and just gay people 'not wanting anything to do with that'? No. (Like I've seen a lot of people saying agender is Aspec and I think that's one we can agree is not actually included in that umbrella term. It's a gender identity and has nothing to do with lack of attractions, when would it ever be useful to talk about them together as one? But saying that it is not under that umbrella does not make it any less valid and important of a label/identity and doesn't mean it's not included under Lgbt+. And obviously doesn't mean that an agender person could never ALSO fall under that umbrella with a different aspect of their identity. And that person could totally talk about both at the same time, but they'd be talking about two distinct things)

your whole post here screams the same shit they say about aro and ace people. "yea thats valid but we don't really want it relating to us in any way. maybe if you don't feel welcomed gtfo" like?? THAT is your argument?

I get how it came off that way and I regret my wording, but no that is not my argument (the "if you don't feel welcome, sometimes it's not the right place' was bc I MISUNDERSTOOD and thought you meant that allosexual apls need to feel welcome in the ace community which is objective not true). I specifically said we need a term for the whole inclusive A-umbrella AND a term for just sexual and romantic orientations within that. If you don't think that second term is necessary, okay, but it really has been for me and many of us in that community for a long time (if you aren't convinced see my other reblogs or the one from @fiesty-spirit-bear for more about that connection. But you even connected them in your ask by saying "sexual/romantic relationships". By definition a non-platonic relationship, the opposite of a platonic relationship, is a sexual and/or romantic one. They are distinct relationships and therefore distinct aspects of one's life). Clarifying terms and how they are being used is not (automatically) exclusive (and the reason I said "I'm curious what other's think" is bc I know I'm not in charge and that I'm limited to my own perspectives).

Also, there's a difference between exclusion and just having one conversation at a time. Maybe it'll help to explain my experience with the word a bit? (I know this is all irrelevant to the topic of the og ask at this point but I've made a fuss so I just want to explain ig):

I made some posts for ace week this year and found that there were times where what I was talking about was just as applicable to aro issues as it was to ace issues, because amatonormativity often treats them as interchangeable (and bc SAM doesn't apply to everyone). If what I was writing was specific to just sex/sexual relationships, I would just use the word/tag "ace". If it was just romance/romantic relationships, I'd use "aro". But it wasn't, and it wasn't exclusive to just "aroace" either, it was "ace OR aro OR aroace" collectively, "aro and/or ace -spec". In my experience, the word "aspec" is used to refer to just that. But to be sure I was using it correctly I googled it first and read this whole wiki (the first result, which I linked above too) and decided yes, that is the correct definition of that term. It is just 'the aro and ace spectrums together' and therefore I can use it to mean that. (I also use it as an ambiguous term so that I don't have to refer to myself as "ace-spec and aro-spec" or divulge my specific microlabels (like I did above) every time I wanted to talk about something referring to both. If I was just ace, I could just say ace, but I'm not, nor am I aroace)

IF instead the results had been that "aspec" means 'the whole A umbrella', I would not have used it there. Bc in that case if I did use it to refer to only the aro and ace spectrums, that would actually be exclusive of all the other A's bc my post didn't mention related issues for all of them (and bc allosexual and/or alloromantic people can fall into those other A spectrums, so they obviously wouldn't find any relevance to a post only talking about aro/ace topics). But that is not the definition of "aspec" that is most common and widely accessible.

I'm not trying to redefine the communities, I'm trying to clarify solely the words we use to refer to them. Wanting a word for just the aro and ace spectrums is not wanting an exclusive word, just one that is more specific. I'm not saying that a word for the whole A-umbrella is not "too inclusive" it's just too broad for certain conversations. And having a distinct word for each in this way would actually help to avoid exclusion (and miscommunication since both definitions are currently in circulation (tho only on Tumblr tbh, I have not seen 'aspec' be used for 'the full A umbrella' anywhere else)).

Yes not all aro/ace's are alloplatonic, and therefore those communities need to be inclusive of aplatonic aro/aces (an idea I openly expressed multiple times and have taken to heart personally). But not all apls are aro/ace either, and aro/ace specific communities do not need to accommodate ALLO sexuals/romantics.

(Which is all (mostly) unrelated to the relationship hierarchy stuff you were talking anyway)

being apl in aspec communties sucks sm. everything is all about how important platonic relationships are and "dismantling relationship heirarchies", while just building new ones. it feels super unwelcoming.

like yea sure to YOU sexual/romantic relationships don't mean anything/are devalued/etc, but not to all of us!! some of us LIKE those things, and MORE than platonic relationships. its like we rnt even aspec at all 2 these people, like sorry some of us go against the grain of society while still having certain ""non queer"" parts to our identity. i feel like we are seen as not aspec/lgbt enough to participate in those communities. so much about the aspec communtity is about how untalked about we are and how we are never included or thought about in discussions, but aro and ace communtities do the same to us!!!

.

[lawofangie]

have you changed your old and set gpa / grades to a new one? i guess this would be along the lines of revision

also, for big exams or whatever that most people seem to have super hard times with even with studying the best they can like the mcat (medical entrance exam basically) how would you go about that? let’s say you didn’t want to do much prep for it, can you just assume you’re top percentile with the score you get back and if there’s inspired action you can get into that, or do you actually have to put in some level of work? this may have been worded badly LOL my apologies

i did! i believe my old one was a 3.0 or something like that and i manifested it being a 4.0! i'm currently a senior in highschool and the "hardest" thing i'm taking right now is physics. if i didn't assume my grades were always high and relied on the 3d to tell me how they were, i would probably be failing miserably right now.

personally, i hate studying and i always thought to myself about how i would much rather spend my time taking care of myself and improving my life somehow. i could be spending time with friends, my sp, family or trying new hobbies, going new places, traveling.. i've honestly always found school to be a waste of my time that i could be spending doing so many other things. i used to get so anxious and scared over school and put it on this pedestal like my future depended on it, when that wasn't true at all.

i had to realize that i was doing myself a disservice my pretending that these things somehow mattered more than my input, my wellbeing, and my say in matters. acting like anything depended on "top percentiles" or approvals is a way of distracting yourself from the fact that you are the one accepting this as true. you are the one deciding "if my grades don't look like this, i won't succeed", when in reality, your grades and scores are quite literally said to be a way of being prepared.

a lot of administrators actually don't know what standards schools are choosing by because even if you have the good grades and good exam scores, there's still that chance of you not being picked. this goes back to my point on reliance and how that's your conscious decision. also, leaving things up to "chance" or "luck" (a made up concept) is honestly stupid when you really think about it. you're choosing to let things decide themselves, but somehow you can't decide?

i've noticed that people often put trust in many irrelevant things, like gods, deities, stars, cards, palm readings, psychics, mediums, other people's inputs, etc. and i've realized that nobody ever puts trust in themselves for some reason. isn't that weird? it's fine when you put trust in the things you're not even sure where they originate, the validity, that you can't even see or be sure of.. but the one thing you can be sure of (yourself), is somehow untrustworthy?

it was for this reason that i realized that i need to get more comfortable with myself and deciding i have things without relying on some external factor to tell me that i do. it just doesn't make any sense and it doesn't even work. at the end of the day, your mind is going to sway one way, either you'll believe you succeed, or you didn't.

but anyways, what i'm saying is that being the top percentile is not at all necessary to reach your goals, because at the end of the day it is up to you and the way you feel about yourself, whether you realize it or not. you are the one deciding, even if you have good grades, where you are going to make it in life. you are the one deciding EVERYTHING about your life, your self image, your relationships, yourself, everything regarding you is up to you (obviously).

but, to answer your question properly, no. you do not need to put in any level of work. the law simply states to assume ("whatever you assume to be true will be true"), not to do anything else. everything takes care of itself the moment you simply decide it is true. inspired action is usually something done unconsciously, like for example, you want to manifest money. you decide you have $100. then as you randomly decide to clean your room, you look under your pillow and find $100. (this happened to me but i found it in my drawer lol).

inspired action and trying to force something to happen are two different things, again, one is done unconsciously and the other is done with the intent of hoping something happens. and what does hoping imply? it implies that you don't have it. if i said "i hope i have $100", i obviously don't have it. if i said "i have $100", then i very clearly have $100. you have to assume it in order for it to be true. and that means, you take your own word for it regardless of what you're being shown at this very moment. you have to decide that it already happened.

i'm sorry, i know this is the part that so many of you guys hate since you like being bossed around by other people, but this is how the law works. it's the only rule you've been provided with, and yet so many of you fail to follow it. an assumption is something you believed to be true without proof. the law requires you to believe something, we (coaches, bloggers, teachers, etc) are the ones telling you to believe something *positive*. the law itself is indifferent, you're free to believe whatever you want, good, bad or indifferent. nobody has control over your mind or thoughts but you.

and yes, it has to be you. not your friends, not your parents, not your teachers or professors, not your bosses, not the random strangers on the street, not the people you only meet once, you. because this is your reality. you're experiencing life as your own person with thoughts, feelings, opinions, goals, dreams, a functioning body (hopefully?), and your own eyes. it's yours, and yet so many of you struggle to realize that.

your manifestation is something that's supposed to happen naturally, it's supposed to find a way to grow into your world comfortably, like the example i just provided. (please don't take "find a way" out of context, i simply mean the "how" is not up to you. everything else is. the law of assumption is a law. it has to materialize, and it does, this is also not to say that it will necessarily be "unexpected" or "strange", you just won't know how it will unfold.)

putting in a level of work just comes from a place of doubt (or misinformation, but let's not talk about that right now). you doubt the fact that you can truly sit back and relax and have things work for you. it's a belief that will do absolutely nothing for you and not benefit you at all, though i'm sure a lot of you believe many things that don't benefit you, and you don't really seem to care.

and how would i go about applying all of this? i would simply decide that i have passing marks or that i got accepted into whatever school i wanted regardless of my grades. there is only one rule to manifestation, you can't break it, but you can bend it however you want as long as you assume. the only rule to the law is literally to just apply the law, so do whatever works for you.

if you just wanna feel good about your grades and feel even better getting accepted into a school, go ahead. if you're coming from a place of fear and feeling like you "need to manifest this or else", please take a step back and consider the fact that this is all up to you and i just told you it doesn't work that way. remember that you only feel this way because these standards have been drilled into your mind for years by the people around you. you've basically been conditioned to care about your grades and limit yourself to or only believing in getting going to school for a job.

we as people are the ones who give things we created significance and purpose. nothing is fundamentally real, it is all manmade, and so, you shouldn't be putting it on a pedestal. you are the only one keeping these standards alive in your head and keeping the assigned significance of these standards alive in your head. none of it really matters and we all know that deep down. we are all going to die one day and we literally live on a floating rock in the middle of fucking nowhere. please don't stress yourself out over stupid shit and live your life the way you want. just decide it's yours.

hope this helps! feel free to send me another ask if you still have questions. 🩶

[sunny374940]

I am yours

So this is just a short snippet where Emmrich gets flowers from Rook. I had to look up plant lore to write this :D

Here on ao3

“Hey, Emmrich, got a minute?” Rook once again burst into Emmrich's study without so much as a knock. Though the distraction was a welcome one, as he had been stuck reading the same page for the last five minutes, not really comprehending the words. He needed a break.

“For you, darling, always,” he answered, standing up from his desk.

“Great,” Rook smiled at him, drawing him in for a kiss before continuing. “Would you meet me at the Memorial Gardens tonight? There's something I wanted to show you.”

Emmrich raised an eyebrow in question, but that seemed to be all the information Rook was willing to give.

“I will be there,” he said. And there were his plans for the afternoon - he would spend it wondering just what Rook was going to drag him into.

When Emmrich arrived at the gardens, Rook was already there, pacing back and forth. He almost seemed nervous, but smiled brightly when he saw Emmrich approach and rushed to kiss him in greeting. When they parted, Rook was just a little bit breathless and it was still one of Emmrich's favorite sights.

“Will you close your eyes for me?” Rook asked with a shy smile.

“Rook, isn't that a bit, well, juvenile?”

“Please?” He looked so hopeful that Emmrich couldn't find it in himself to decline.

“Very well, but you are taking full responsibility for any stubbed toes.”

Rook waited until his eyes were closed and then he took him gently by the arm, leading him along the winding paths of the gardens. They stopped at last, and Rook's hand left him.

“You can open your eyes now.”

He did as he was asked and his hand flew to his mouth as he took in the sight before him. There was a table set for two, bathed in candlelight. And Rook was standing there, wearing that sheepish grin he always had when he was unsure of Emmrich's reaction. His hands were clasped behind his back and now he was bringing them forward and…he was holding flowers?

He could hardly remember the last time he'd been given flowers, though he'd always liked receiving them. He finally let his hand fall away from his mouth and took the flowers from Rook and his hands certainly weren't trembling, not at all. This was all a bit… much, if he was being honest. He realized Rook was talking to him.

“Remember when I told you I had a date planned to tell you how I felt? Before I almost died and you told me first and all that?”

Emmrich did remember. Especially the part where he nearly lost Rook, though he was glad it led him to confess his feelings. He nodded, waiting for Rook to continue.

“So this is it. I didn't want all that planning to go to waste, so… ta da!” he intoned playfully.

“Thank you, my dear. This is a lovely surprise.”

Emmrich brought the flowers closer to his face to enjoy their scent and to admire them properly. There was a lilac branch right in the middle (he remembered his favourite color!), surrounded by honeysuckle, a couple of red tulips and a great many forget-me-nots. Certainly not a very conventional choice of flowers, but Rook was anything but conventional. Why these flowers, though? Ah, but he was overthinking it, it was simply the season for them to bloom… or… did he know what he was doing by choosing these specifically? Knowledge long unused was coming back to light and his eyes widened as he realized-

“Darling, are you familiar with the language of flowers?” he asked tentatively.

“Um… not much, but Bellara and Lucanis know quite a lot. I asked them to help me pick the best ones to get the meaning across. Did we get it right?” he asked, looking almost worried, as if Emmrich hadn't been smitten already, as if there was any chance that picking the wrong flower would make Emmrich feel less for him. Emmrich glanced at the flowers again. They were conveying Rook's message loud and clear.

“I love you, you are my only, I am yours!” they seemed to be saying and Emmrich felt tears of joy form in his eyes and he couldn't stop himself from kissing Rook.

“Yes, you did, darling. And I love you too,“ he whispered against Rook's lips and then he claimed them with another kiss.

[syndrossi]

resonant ch33 dvd commentary

This was a problem child of a chapter as I tried to figure out the best path toward the next set of plot points, which, combined with the work months (Nov and Dec) from hell meant it ended up a bit late and thereby thwarted my hopes of breaking 200K words of Resonant by year's end, alas.

Favorite line(s):

“I want his head,” Daemon croaked, unable to calm the racing of his heart. “I want to swing the blade that cleaves it from his shoulders. Do not deny me this, I beg of you.”

SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE THIS MAN SOMEONE'S HEAD, HE DESERVES IT. Reyne's, Crayne's, Allard's...he's not picky right now.

Daemon glanced at the red on Viserys’s white-and-gold sleeve, still bright somehow despite being half-dried. How is it that you seek to spend my blood, brother?

The "blood to be spent" is one of my favorite of the candle's refrains to weave in, and it was fun to have a literal representation here.

[The sobs] were as quiet as they were heartbreaking, each wracking him violently, as though the pain of it were trying to bend him in half.

Anyone who's had a really intense cry knows exactly what that feeling is.

Rhaegar seemed to read his expression, and his arms tightened around Qelebrys briefly, as though apprehensive, before steeling his face and turning toward his brother. It was an impulse that was all too familiar to Daemon. He does not want his brother to think him weak.

You know it's bad when Daemon is seeing parallels with him and Viserys, rather than Aemon and Baelon.

Favorite Details

Daemon's victory

As someone pointed out in the AO3 comments, this is a rare occasion where Daemon outplayed Otto, who seemed to be expecting his leaked information about Daemon being seen visit Mysaria in Flea Bottom to result in far more dire consequences for him. He didn't realize that Daemon had been withholding information of his own.

(Granted, Daemon would gladly have continued to withhold the information about the bounty on his own head, had it not been useful in the confrontation.)

Redfort brothers

Sorry, @textbookchoices, I think you were envisioning something quite different when I promised Redfort content...

I don't know, just the utter heartbreak/tragedy that was the Redfort twins' lives in those early years, where they didn't understand why people behaved so strangely and why there were so many unspoken rules. And adoring their older half-brothers, only to be utterly crushed when they never returned, convinced it was their own fault for daring to impose/ask. (When the reality was that this was near the time when Raymar's dye started failing and Allard was eager for the Redfort brothers to halt their visits anyway...)

But also the vulnerability Rhaegar/Raymar was willing to show, and the love the Daemon met it with. Raymar got a lot of much-needed affirmation this chapter, as much of an unsettling rollercoaster of emotion as it was for Rhaegar. They both needed that, and with the stress/upset over the rift with Jon, they were due for a meltdown.

Valyrian histories

I like to imagine Aegon entertained his sons with stories like that of House Dewald (the name itself me making a bad German pun, since the holdfast was near the edge of the forest aka "der Wald"), and Aenys passed it on to Jaehaerys who passed it on to his sons and grandsons. So much of that purely oral history would have been lost in the Dance, with only the children surviving.

And the Valyrians love their stories of "why you should never try to steal dragon eggs, aka because we'll kill you really, really dead."

Dynamics

Daemon and Viserys

Not Viserys's best day ever, though he's not quite as clueless as he seems in giving Reyne an extension. (His reasoning is "I'll need a little time to get a replacement ready and minimize the harm during the transition if he truly is a traitor," hence the one week for Reyne to "prove" himself.)

If things go poorly (aka proof of treason is found), Reyne could very well lose his head!

But that's little comfort to Daemon, who continues to feel (rather fairly) that Viserys won't go beyond half-measures for him, while he'll bend over backward for everyone else.

@marmari33 had a very insightful ask on the topic of how Viserys acts when Daemon is on the verge of a breakdown (aka he's most willing to act the comforting big brother then), so I won't rehash it here, but that's another complicated piece of their dynamic.

At the end of the day, the problem is still that although you can't go around beheading everyone without proof, Viserys's touch is far too light given how serious the treason that was committed by House Royce (and Redfort) under House Arryn's stewardship. Viserys being willing to cede the negotiation ground to the Vale give them the home field advantage/the sense that he's willing to be lenient.

Rhaegar and Raymar

These two have been more integrated than Jon and Jon Redfort by a wide margin, but Rhaegar was feeling it this chapter. As mentioned above, he's eight-years-old and he's in a cold war with his brother who he idolizes and doesn't trust him, which hurts, so he's primed for a breakdown. The hair dye background, which is a particular pain point for Raymar, just opened the floodgates.

Those with a keen eye will notice that Jon has also been more affected by his counterpart of late, so there may be a ticking time bomb there to reckon with...

Quick hitters

It felt almost like a simulated D&D session, the events at the end of the chapter. There were about ten different things that could have happened instead, but this is what the dice (and Daemon) landed on.

It remains ambiguous just how much of Reyne's failure is incompetence, malice, or both.

Larys is back at the Red Keep now, btw...

What was Jon so cheerful about when he found them at the enclosure? We'll find out next chapter...

Daemon's violent outbursts are never not nerve-wracking for the poor Kingsguard. Granted, he's never harmed Viserys, but the sounds of a man breaking a chair by slamming it repeatedly into the ground are not gentle.

The one thing about Daemon's hunger for Allard's head is that it doesn't take into account what the boys might want.

How did Reyne come to know of Daemon's visit? He only showed his face to the woman at the "front desk" so to speak of the establishment, and Mysaria herself. Is Mysaria still informing on Daemon to Otto for a price? Does that still make sense, given the promised rewards from Daemon? Or is it another source?

Daemon's anger tends to have an insulating effect against the candle, while despair/grief make him susceptible, and we see both sides of that coin in this chapter. Though it also remains an open question of whether there is always a warlock "manning" the candle, or if it has any passive effects.

Daemon remains best dad when it comes to finding ways to cheer up his sons. Plotting the perfect flight path to find some natural beauty for Rhaegar followed by interesting ruins of a military defeat for Jon.

The saddle refitting is complete, meaning the boys can take a field trip at any given moment...

Cut scenes/moments

“If I tell you of my own troubles with my brother, will you tell me of yours?” Daemon asked. His son’s grip tightened on the cup, then slackened. “It is nothing.”

The scene was already pretty long, and it didn't feel the right time/moment to veer into the Rhaegar-Jon conflict.

That was the provence of Allard Royce, for those years of cruelty. Lorent Reyne, for dismissing the whispers from the Vale that would have united Daemon with his sons years before. Rhea Royce, for devising such a heartless scheme, and the Redforts for aiding her in it. I will see them all burn.

Just a little extra seething from Daemon that I ended up cutting. I think it's pretty well understood within the chapter that Daemon is hungry for blood/revenge.

“He does not trust me. He thinks that I am weak.” “I am certain that is not so,” Daemon said. Rhaegar’s shrug was listless. “I understand why he believes it to be true. He is able to resist the candle, where I have failed. I was the one foolish enough to drink the cider at the Saltpans and be taken. When we were captive, he challenged Crayne and I—I feared him.” His voice grew thicker with upset, each word escaping him quickly than the last, until he was stumbling over them at the end. Daemon pulled him onto his lap, resting his chin atop his hair as he held him. “You are a child. You are allowed to be frightened.” Rhaegar twisted free, springing to his feet with fists balled tight. “Jon isn’t. He is never frightened. He thinks that he must keep me safe, whatever the cost to himself.” “I am your father. That is my duty.” Daemon caught one of his small fists, clasping it between his hands. “I will keep you safe, both of you.” His son regarded him with a solemn expression that pierced his heart. Aemon. “You will not always be there to protect us.” The chill of winter gripped Daemon suddenly, bitter and harsh in his lungs. The crimson of his blood on Viserys’s white sleeve swam before his eyes, only it was snow he saw now, stained with lifesblood, more than a body could spare. “Do not say that,” he whispered, heart seizing.

A little more of the Rhaegar-Jon conflict that I was a bit sad to see go because of the "blood to be spent" imagery melding with the Wall vision.

And there's one more cut scene (the longest) I'm holding onto in case it's relevant next chapter. If not, I'll share it in that DVD commentary!

[cryptid-killjoy]

When Mazzie asked Ellie if she'd planned on staying too Babyface knew it wasn't her plan. They hadn't even spoke about it. Still, put on the spot he knew it was his plan all along. He knew from the moment he stepped foot on the boat. He'd known long before that if he ever got the chance to step foot here again and get a do over what he'd do different.

This was it. He'd stay. He wouldn't have run away from Mazzie when she needed him the most. Hindsight made him realize that was biggest mistake.

So, he clenched every muscle as he waited for Ellie's answer. She was laughing and so did Mazzie, but it felt like a goodbye to Babyface. He smiled through it even though it wasn't a no. It was clever wording even a not so clever boy could manage to pick up on. It scared him.

The timer scared him. Her indecision scared him because of that clock. Come some time tonight the island would start it's feed and turning real people into donkeys. He needed the island to accept them or their time, Ellie's time would run out. Not just that but despite being wholly committed to staying, in his mind, it wasn't permanent. When the Foulfellows used to work the island they still left it all the time. Babyface figured he could work on the details of how to leave it later. What mattered is he was staying.

Mazzie laughed. "We skate all over." It seemed to diffuse her though. She was realizing herself what both of them were saying. The one she had been so angry with was the one pleading to stay, completely willing, and the one she was okay with was the one hedging. It gave off the feeling that they had no plans of ambushing her and trying to take her off the island. It made Mazzie have to slow down and think. She gave her memories a once over. It was hard not to be sentimental when these were the only real life friends she'd ever had. Everything Ellie was talking about was reminding her of the old days. No matter how many hard feelings she had, she had just many good or more.

Even all Babyface's questioning made her believe on some level he must have cared more than she realized. So, she looked at him real serious because she knew something he didn't. She was hesitant to say it.

"You'd care for the island like me?"

"Yeah. That's the point. The whole point."

"You're sure. Donkeys and all? You remember how it works?"

"Yeah-yeah. I know. I know. I don't care about all that. I can handle it."

"So, you'd forgive the island for everything."

"Yeah-yeah Alls forgiven. It's all good. Whatever."

"No matter what? You're sure?"

"Yeah. I said yeah. We're crew. Remember?" Babyface sounded frustrated by this point she was dragging it out so much.

"UGH. I'll see what I can do. Come on. Let's go find Jax at the control room." Then she went in for a hug finally giving the warmer reception Babyface wished for.

"And don't ever make me have to forgive you again. Ever. I hated missing you guys."

All the island boys were giving them side eyes but slowly backing away from area where they'd once looked like they were ready to pounce if Mazzie felt threatened. Babyface figured this was a good sign. He finally figured out the pace of the boys was the chaos of island's emotions. At least sort of. He was hoping if they were backing down that meant they were okay with him staying and he wouldn't be turned into a donkey like the offer years ago.

When she finally let go she punched Babyface twice quick with two fast jabs in the arm.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you in so long. I just feel like I owed you some."

She'd start to talk more like a regular conversational Mazzie as they followed her to the control room.

"I have to admit, a part of me thought you two were goners already. Over time I started to assume everyone I knew was gone. We don't have any boats left. We stopped trying to leave. We had the paddle boats and the water zombies would pull them down. Flip them. People would drown trying to leave the mainland dancing unable to swim. The magic didn't dance on the island. We'd never make it back to the mainland if we tried. We decided it was just best to hunker down and live it out here. We could survive. There's been a few to make it but the island either rejected them, got the donkey treatment in the end, or even the few I managed to save succumbed to the zombies eventually. All but one."

He looked over at Ellie with a bit of surprise. He never saw Mazzie as some sort of hero trying to save people on the island even if it ended up a failure.

"Sucks you found some you liked and lost them then I guess."

Mazzie glanced up, "Yeah, they were Beagles."

His feet stopped. "What?"

It wasn't like Babyface didn't already know. He'd been trying to mourn, but no bodies meant he could keep a glimmer of pretend hope. His heart started to pound.

"That's the boat that made it over. They'd been spying on us. You and us. All of us. Trying to figure out what you were doing all the time. It's how they knew. I got the island to let me keep them. Your family was the only people they let me keep. Anyone else that ever happened on the island got the donkey treatment. Sadly, I'm sorry, like I said, the zombies just over ran the place. We're finally getting it weeded down and protected. We have barriers up. But, they're still here."

Babyface was stunned. Fuck those details. "Who Mazzie? Who? Who was here?"

"Oh, Big Time, the zombies came out of nowhere that day. There was nothing we could do. We weren't fast enough. Bouncer, spinning tea cup accident. Not quite sure what happened there. It was going too fast. He got real pukey and dizzy after. Then zombies. He's so big and strong and he couldn't have protected himself if he tried. Not right then."

Babyface looked like he might puke himself. Putting images to his family's vague MIAness to actual faces of death was a reality check. He put a hand on his stomach as he asked, "Wait. Stop. Didn't you say earlier that you had a survivor? You mean of my family?"

"Mhm."

"Well who already? Who?"

Like a movie cue she waved to the control house. "See for yourself."

Babyface Beagle looked over at Ellie and then looked up following Mazzie's arm pointing in the distance.

There was Jax's curly hair sitting on the porch with all the carnival lights behind them talking to a god damn ginger.

Of all Beagles to survive. Mother fucking Bebop was sitting on the stoop with Jax.

Fuck the coachman right now, Ellie just let out the biggest sigh of relief that Jax was okay, her head leaning back as she let it out, running her fingers through her hair. “Thank fuck for that,” She said, thinking of the curly-haired guy whose homework she had helped out with while he was a donkey, of the guy that always seemed to bring a smile to her face, of the one that she disguised as a girl so that he could sleep over at their house. “You have no idea how much we thought of you two. Seriously. Shit went down and -” Another deep breath, shaking their head. Even with zombies here, and the bad boys, she felt alright for the first time since setting foot on the island.

Honest John and Gideon - she didn’t really care about those two right now. It always seemed clear that it was Maz in charge, not those two. So to Babyface’s disappoint, she wouldn’t try to get any clarity on that.

Yeah, of course there was disappointment in Babyface. Ellie had been expecting that. That they weren’t going to get the warmest welcome in the world, considering that Babyface had literally gone and popped the Magic Man. And she knew that Babyface wasn’t going to go apologizing for it either.

Her face definitely reflected the shock at what he was doing instead. That was not expected. That was not what they had talked about. True, they didn’t actually talk about what to do with their future, but it always had seemed so open. Like they could do anything. They had no attachments anymore, nothing keeping them down. Ellie had the Laveaus and Aunt Elsa but distance didn’t seem to come between them, she could go anywhere. Babyface had his mom in prison, and she supposed now Black Arts Beagle but it was hard to trust the smooth-talker. He was too smooth, like a freshly waxed floor, and she didn’t want to go slipping and sliding.

So much for not making any decisions for Ellie. He might not have spoken for her right then and there, but his decision affected her too, and he had to have known that. He goddamn better have known that.

This was hard. This was conflicting. It felt like two separate armies - the hot and the cold inside of her - were clashing inside of one another and there was no winning.

This was her crew. This was her life. She had the chance to get Maz back in it, and Jax. The two people that she never felt right not having anymore. She woulda died for them, no question. She woulda fought for them too. And here she was, with the opportunity to stay here, in this place that felt like a personal Hell to her, with them.

But then there was the other side. The Hellish side. She never liked the island. She never liked the way that it made her feel. The bad kids, the constant screaming and noise and mayhem, the fact that she couldn’t even use her powers which was something that Babyface would never understand, because he never had them. Being repressed like that - it felt like having a part of her missing.

But there were heavy eyes on her, wanting to make a decision. And a yes or a no was something that she couldn’t give now, not without thinking about it first, not without talking to her trusted people about it.

The weight of the eyes was intimidating. Babyface and Mazzie both. She struggled to come up with filler, something that wasn’t a yes, but also wasn’t a no.

“Put in a skatepark and we’ll talk about it.”

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 1

Chapter 0

♡———♡

I still don't know what love is.

But someday I want to fall in love and know love.

A passionate love like a blazing rose, a fierce love that remains forever like a story someone spun.

???: I see, I see...

???: How amusing.

(...Who?)

The change came to the recurring dream I always had, on the night it was decided I would travel to a foreign country.

In an immature space, a rose garden where many flowers are tightly closed as buds, an unknown person is reading an unfinished story placed on an oak table.

They had a mystical appearance that didn't seem human.

Hair that shimmered with the light of the giant moon rising in the sky, and strange eyes that seemed to hold the starry sky in their depths.

The sacred and beautiful being, blending into the dream space, scoffs at me as I approach.

Emma: What...is it?

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of it.

???: Love is not such a good thing.

???: There are times when it is happier to end your life as an innocent you who knows nothing.

I don't know what words they read from the unfinished book.

But the "something" that is not human directly denies what lies at the root of my heart.

Emma: How can you say that so definitively?

???: Because I am a God.

(...God?)

???: I have seen the "love" of many people. Not stories, but the many raw loves that exist in reality...

???: Many of them are people who think they can do anything with "love" as an excuse.

???: It's a miserable thing, a human being driven mad by love.

???: No matter how rational a person is, once they are mad with love, they can no longer live without it.

???: Like a curse.

Emma: ..............

???: You, the fact that the dream world is wrapped in thorns means you are the daughter of Rhodolite, right?

???: Rhodolite also had it. The story of His Majesty the King who lost his love and fell into becoming a beast.

Emma: ...The love story of the previous Belle and His Majesty the King may indeed have been a tragedy.

Emma: But that doesn't mean that all love ends in tragedy.

???: You are quite right. But it also doesn't mean that all love ends in comedy.

???: Why do you crave love?

At the God's question, words catch in my throat.

There was no particular reason.

There is no particular motive.

It doesn't go beyond pure yearning, and I don't have any deep thoughts on love.

Only when I am told do I realize that my longing has no substance.

???: At the very least, I would like to be excused from such a thing as love.

???: --Because I am a god who does not love people.

-

(...Nn...)

Drawn by the gentle sunlight peeking through the window, I opened my eyes to find the familiar ceiling of my room in the city filling my vision.

The immature roses, the God who denied love, all vanished like an illusion.

As soon as I woke up, the memories of the dream crumbled, gradually being repainted with reality.

But there was one fragment of the dream that fell into my heart without disappearing.

("Love is a curse"... huh?)

???: Emma, are you awake?

The door knocker announcing a visitor pushed aside my sleepiness.

(This voice... Rio?)

Emma: Sorry, wait a moment!

???: Ah, it's fine. I'm a gentleman, so I'll wait for you as long as it takes.

(...Wait, I think I heard a voice other than Rio's...)

With a touch of anxiety, I quickly changed clothes, washed my face, and got ready before opening the door.

Standing at the entrance was the dazzling smile of my friend, who had quit being a butler and returned to the city with me.

Rio: Good morning! You look absolutely adorable today too!

Emma: Yes, yes, thank you as always.

Emma: ...What brings you here so early?

Rio: I just came to see you because I wanted to see your face.

Rio: I brought some bread. Would you like to eat together?

Emma: Thank you, I'd love to. Mmm, it smells good...

Rio: It's from your favorite bakery. They have the new divination bread too.

Emma: Divination bread? Sounds interesting!

Clavis: Wait, wait, Emma. There's something more important than bread, isn't there?

A figure forcibly wedging himself between Rio and me snatched the bag of bread.

(So it wasn't a hallucination after all.)

Giving up my self-defense escapism, I faced the prince, this country's number one problem child, with a dubious smile plastered on his face.

Emma: It's been a while, Prince Clavis.

Clavis: I'm glad you jumped into my arms honestly from the start.

Emma: Thank you for your concern. Why are you here?

Clavis: Now, why do you think?

???: Don't be so coy, just say it already.

(Huh...?)

I couldn't help but widen my eyes at the large figure sitting on a wooden box some distance away.

Emma: Prince Luke was here too!?

Luke: Oh. Sorry for barging in so early in the morning.

Rio: I just happened to run into Prince Clavis and Prince Luke a while ago.

Rio: I haven't heard what they're here for either, but...

(I thought it was unusual for Rio to come this early in the morning... Maybe he was worried about me.)

Luke stood up from the wooden box and lightly lifted the paper bag he was holding.

Luke: Let us join your breakfast party too.

-

A commoner's house, occupied by two princes and a former butler friend... In this space, oppressive both physically and mentally, it was Clavis who broke the silence first.

Clavis: Emma, you're going to Tanzanite soon, aren't you?

Rio: Ugh...

The freshly baked bread lined up on the small table and the sweets Luke brought as a souvenir lightly bounced as Rio bumped his head against the corner.

Clavis: What's wrong?

Rio: ...I have a seizure every time I hear that.

Rio: To think that I won't be able to see my angel, goddess, and fairy, Emma, for a while...

Luke: You're so dramatic.

(The first time I told Rio, he looked like he was about to combust, so this is much better.)

*flashback*

Rio: --Emma is going... to Tanzanite...?

Emma: Rio, are you okay!? You just slammed your head into the bookshelf...

Rio: I'm okay... But, why...?

Emma: The owner told me a lot about foreign countries, and I was especially interested in the God in Tanzanite who can perform divination with 100% accuracy.

Emma: If Gods really exist in reality, I thought I'd like to meet one.

Emma: Besides, you know, Tanzanite is famous for tourism, right?

Emma: It's a desert, but I thought it would be a good place for my first trip.

*back to present*

(I felt bad for almost making Rio faint...)

(But I've been excited every day since it was decided I was going to Tanzanite.)

Luke: It's surprising you're not going with her.

Rio: The owner asked me to look after the shop while he's away.

Rio: Of course, I want to go with her!? What if something happens to Emma while I'm not there...?

Rio: But if me staying here will allow Emma to travel with peace of mind, then I... I...

Clavis: Haha, if that's the case, don't worry.

Clavis tore off a piece of bread he was holding, brought it to his mouth, savored it deliciously, and swallowed.

Clavis: We'll be Emma's bodyguards in your place.

Rio: Eh, really? That's great, then I can relax--

Rio: --That's not how it works, is it!? Wait, what do you mean?

(What does he mean!?)

I almost dropped my divination bread and hurriedly caught it.

Clavis: Exactly what I said.

Luke: We're going to Tanzanite too.

Luke, who had stuffed a whole honey-covered pastry into his large mouth, sighed as he licked his fingers.

Luke: I don't want to go because it's a pain, but Chevalier ordered me to go on a diplomatic mission.

(To Tanzanite at this time...)

*flashback*

Akatsuki: Things have been dangerous everywhere lately.

Emma: Could it be... because of the Triple Alliance?

Akatsuki: Yeah. For now, there are no overt moves from any country. But it feels like the calm before the storm.

*back to present*

(...I'm an outsider now, so it's probably best not to pry too deeply.)

Clavis: It's close to your departure date. So, wouldn't you want to go with us?

Clavis: We're planning to use the sea route via Benitoite, and if you board the country's passenger ship, it's practically free.

Clavis: I can see you crying with joy. Ah, I know even without you saying it.

Clavis: Such good fortune to be able to go to a foreign land with your beloved Clavis--

Rio: Objection!

Rio, springing to his feet in the small room, pointed a finger at Clavis.

Rio: They say there's nothing scarier than something free, so what's your objective?

(As expected of Rio, that's what I wanted to know too.)

Clavis took a sip of the tea I had prepared as if to pause for a breath...

And what appeared on his slightly moistened lips was a meaningful and fearless smile.

Clavis: What do you think?

Luke: Don't be so suggestive. There's no deep reason.

Clavis: Luke, read the room.

Luke: You should.

Luke: This guy issued a notice to all officials to report any interesting information regarding Emma to him immediately.

Emma: So you knew about my trip to Tanzanite because...

Luke: The official who issued your departure permit ratted you out.

Emma: Isn't that an abuse of power!?

Clavis: What are you talking about? It's his job.

Luke: This guy was jumping for joy when he learned about your first trip, saying "Delightful."

Luke: He volunteered to go to Tanzanite himself, and I was stuck with babysitting Nokto.

Luke: He said, "I have to give Emma at least one sane person because she's pitiful."

(Thank you, Nokto!)

Luke: But, if you really can't stand it, I'll take responsibility and bury Clavis in the woods.

Clavis: There's no need to worry about that. Emma must be trembling with joy, right?

Luke: ...You should get your eyes checked by a doctor before you leave the country.

Rio: ...I'm worried. I'm very worried.

(I should probably consult with the owner since I'm not traveling alone... )

(But it's reassuring to have someone I know in an unfamiliar place, not just Clavis but Luke too.)

Lost in thought and worry, I furrowed my brow and tore the divination bread I was holding in half.

Emma: Ah.

(Something came out from inside.)

It was a small figurine made of pottery.

It was modeled after a horned horse, standing gallantly on the palm of my hand.

Rio: As expected of Emma! That's a jackpot.

Clavis: Oh ho... Indeed, the unicorn is currently considered the "symbol of good luck" across the continent.

Emma: Is that so?

Clavis: Yes. It's a good sign, you should keep it as a charm.

Clavis: After all, the unicorn has a special meaning in the desert country...?

(I don't really associate unicorns with deserts...)

Emma: If that's the case, it seems like it will bring good luck.

Luke: You've been a good girl. Lots of good things will happen to you even without a unicorn.

I gently wrapped the unicorn in my hand with my fingers.

The unexpected good fortune seemed to be pushing me forward, confirming that my current honest feelings were "right."

Clavis: So, Emma, will you go with us...?

-

The gateway to Tanzanite, the land of divination and illusions enveloped in desert, was a bustling port town like Benitoite, thriving with merchants.

Emma: This is Tanzanite...!

(I had heard it was a desert, so I thought there would be more sandstorms raging...)

There was no hint of desert in the lively town.

However, the attire of the animals and people passing through the town was clearly different from that of Rhodolite and Benitoite, and coupled with the scent of spices wafting through the air, it made me feel like I was standing in a foreign land.

(I've really come a long way.)

Akatsuki: Our destination is far. It's too early to be frolicking around.

The owner, carrying luggage for his business trip, lined up next to me.

I was also carrying a bag full of books, but it was nothing compared to the owner's.

Emma: Should I carry some more of your luggage?

Akatsuki: No need. I usually carry it all by myself.

(It looks like there are easily 100 books, and he carries them all by himself...)

Clavis: Even though we offered to help, Akatsuki is quite serious, isn't he?

Luke: Emma, I can also carry some for you.

Clavis and Luke, who were on the same ship, were lightly dressed in contrast to us.

Emma: Thank you. But this is my first purchasing trip, so I want to carry my luggage myself.

Emma: Selling books in a foreign land, buying new ones...

Emma: I'm really looking forward to seeing how much the contents of my bag will change between the outbound and return trips.

Luke: You're really lively.

Clavis: Akatsuki has a good assistant.

Clavis: By the way, where are you two going now?

Akatsuki: Someone is coming to pick us up.

Emma: ...Pick us up?

Where the owner unnaturally shifted his gaze, an eye-catching beauty was standing.

(Wow...)

She was a tall, bewitching woman dressed in extravagant ornaments, no less impressive than the owner in his vibrantly colored ruby red attire.

Next to her was a gentle-looking man with glasses, who, upon noticing us, broke into a smile and approached.

Man with glasses: We've been waiting for you, Akatsuki. And...

Emma: I'm Emma. I've come as the owner's assistant.

Basil: Ah, I heard about you in the letter. Nice to meet you, please call me Basil.

Basil: And this flamboyant woman here is Kamal.

Kamal: ............

Kamal smiled seductively and showed me the words "Nice to meet you" from a bundle of papers she took out of her pocket.

Basil: As you can see, Kamal can't speak, so please communicate with her through writing.

(I see...)

Emma: Understood. It's a pleasure to meet you both.

Clavis: ...Hmm.

Beside us, as we exchanged greetings amicably, Clavis rested his chin on his hand.

Clavis: You are servants of the Living God, are you not?

(...Eh?)

Basil: Impressive! How did you know?

Clavis: Well, you have the proof of faith, don't you?

Clavis pointed to his own chest with his finger.

Both Basil and Kamal had their cloak clasps in that spot.

(...Looking closely, there's a unicorn on the clasp.)

(Is this the "proof of faith"?)

Clavis: I once heard that those close to God wear unicorn ornaments.

Clavis: Also, a few years ago, I heard a story about the book merchant that Prince Azel employs.

Clavis: I had a hunch, but it seems Akatsuki's client is a big shot.

Emma: Client... You mean God?

Akatsuki: Whether it's God or royalty, a customer is a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

(He didn't tell me that!?)

The owner, who didn't change his expression at all, might be a more amazing person than I thought.

Basil: We will always serve as guides for Akatsuki.

Basil: Prince Clavis and Prince Luke, please go that way. The court envoy is waiting for you.

Clavis: Haha, as expected of your discerning eye, to know not only about me but also about the newcomer Luke.

Clavis: Rhodolite shouldn't have sent a prior notice about who was coming, so it must be a prophecy from the Living God, right?

(...!)

Basil: That's right! Prince Azel is truly an amazing person! Can I talk about this? Is the atmosphere okay? It's okay, right?

(He suddenly started talking fast...?)

Kamal mercilessly smacked Basil on the head as he pushed up his glasses and made them shine, a complete change from his calm demeanor.

Then she took out another stack of papers and showed the word "Let's go."

(...That sounded like his skull cracked, is he okay?)

Luke: Well, we'll say goodbye here for now.

Clavis: I'll come to see you myself before Emma starts crying from loneliness, okay?

Emma: I don't think I'll cry from loneliness, but let's meet again.

(With this flow... we're going straight to God's place, right?)

(Oh no, I'm getting nervous.)

(I wonder what the real God is like.)

-

Azel: Thank you for making the trip to such a remote place.

Emma: Ah!

.

.

.

Chapter 2

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[awriterinthenight]

"Its a Date"-Jess Mariano

requested: @dearggntlereader

words: 1424

warnings: mentions of an argument (i think that's it

summary: You and Jess were highschool sweethearts who broke up, but now that both of you are in the same town, who knows what will happen.

a/n I gave reader a certain style, since I just felt the whole artist thing kind of gave me an idea as to how she would dress, if you don't like it then just ignore it

Highschool sweethearts always seemed like a doomed relationship to some people. As nice as it was to fall in love young, usually those relationships end up with bad breakups, or even worse marriages. This wasn't always the case, you knew a couple people that married right out of high school and turned out well, but then there was a couple like Lindsey and Dean, which ended horribly.

Your high school sweetheart was Jess Mariano. The two of you had been dating since junior year started, and didn't break up till a couple months after graduation. You ended up breaking up due to the fact that Jess didn't actually graduate, and ended wanting to go to California to find his dad. You tried to be supportive of him, but he never told you when he would return, or if he was repeating senior year, which frustrated you. The two of you ended up in a massive argument, where both of you realized you could no longer be together if you wanted to accomplish your separate goals. You called it quits, and Jess went to California to find his dad, then ended up moving to Philadelphia where he started his publishing house, and wrote his first book. You ended up going to an art school in New York where you became an independent artist, and have been well off since.

Your art has gained a lot of attraction over the past few years. Many people bought your art, had it shown in galleries, and some pieces even won awards. You continued to live in New York, even buying yourself your own studio to paint in.

Never once in the past few years had you heard from Jess or seen him at all, which was probably a good thing. Except sometimes whether or not you made the right decision, was a thought that had been crossing your mind recently. Sometimes it even channeled into your art, but those paintings seemed to always be the best.

Recently you had gotten a call from a publishing house that had art shown in it, alongside other forms of art. Usually you hadn't done anything small or local unless you truly loved the place, but something compelled you to say yes, when the person on the phone asked if you would like to display one of your pieces there. Rarely ever did you donate art unless it was for a good cause, but you gave the piece to the publishing house completely free, which you thought was just because your life had been a bit slow.

The place was having an event to celebrate their growth, which you had been invited to since your art was on display. You agreed to go which was why you were currently getting dressed for this event. This didn't seem formal, but also not super casual. Making it hard to figure out what to wear. But you didn't care and put on a decent enough outfit which was a little black dress, tights, your old leather jacket, and boots. Your style hasn't changed much since you were a teenager (its not a phase mom).

You gave the address to the cab driver when you got into the car. The place was called Truncheon, which you thought was a bit of an odd name. It did make you think of Jess though. It sounded like a name he would pick for something.

When you got out of the car you took a look at the building. It was small, but definitely had its charm. Stepping into the publishing house was like stepping into a new world. Everyone there was unique, some there for the art, the books, or the performances that were going on.

"You must be the artist, Y/N," someone said, making you turn around.

You gave them a small smile, trying to be polite, "Yes, that's me," you said, holding out your hand for him to shake.

"It's very nice to meet you," he told you, shaking your hand before dropping it, "I'm Matthew, the one who contacted you. Me and my friends were so grateful you donated your artwork, it's amazing by the way."

"Well, I'm glad you liked it. All the art here is amazing," I complimented, since I loved the atmosphere of the place, and just its entirety.

"That's amazing, my friends were so excited. You should meet them," he offered, before calling them over, "Hey, Chris, Jess-" he said something else, but you didn't hear it. Surely it couldn't be Jess Jess, probably someone with the same name.

But, you were wrong. It was Jess. You hadn't seen him in years, so you took a moment to get a good look at him. He'd grown a small beard, but still wore his leather jacket.

"Hey," was all you could manage out, as Chris and Matthew gave the two of you a look.

"Hey," he uttered back, not as surprised as you were, which made you suspicious.

A gear started to turn in Matthew's head, "Well, you two seem to know each other, and this is awkward, so we'll let you two catch up," he said, dragging away a protesting Chris.

There was a silence between you two, but you broke it first, "So, you work here now," you tried to make small talk.

He nodded, "Yeah, I actually have a book that I published here two," he told you, his hands in his pockets, something he did when he was nervous.

"I know," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You know?" he questioned, a hint of playfulness in his voice, "And here I thought you stopped caring about me years ago."

You had stopped keeping track of where he was after the breakup, but you still kept a tab on him every once in a while. You knew about his book when he published it, you'd heard from an old friend about it, so you made sure to get one when it was first published.

You shrugged slightly, "I mean I didn't totally forget about you. I just, I-," you stammered, "I thought you were still in Stars Hollow," you said, changing the conversation a bit.

"I mean, I was for a little bit, then I came here," he explained, a silence settling over you again.

You both opened your mouths to say something multiple times, but neither of you spoke. After a few minutes of silence Jess finally got the courage to say something.

"You know, I was actually the one who recommended you to Matthew. I saw your art in a magazine not that long ago, I thought you'd like an opportunity to display it here, even though its not one of your fancy galleries," he said, unable to keep himself from going back to his old ways of constantly teasing you.

You smiled, looking at the ground to hide your small blush, "Why didn't you ask me to?" you asked him, "I probably would've said yes in a heartbeat," you confessed.

"I thought you wouldn't want to see or hear from me after all these years. I never went back to Stars Hollow cause I thought you would be there, and I was too scared to face you," he admitted, nervous from what he was saying. Even after all these years, you could still read him like an open book.

"Well, I'm here now and you don't seem that scared," you told him, looking at him through your lashes.

He let out a small chuckle, "I'm shaking with fear actually," he said, making the both of you let out a small laugh, "How long are you in town for?"

"I wasn't leaving till tomorrow morning, but I can stay longer. It's not like I have anywhere to be," you told him.

"Good, then maybe tomorrow I can take you out. Show you around the city," he offered, letting out a shaky breath.

You considered it for a moment before saying, "Maybe, but would this be a just friends thing, or maybe something else," you asked, just making sure.

"I don't know," he said, "What do you want it to be?"

You shrugged, "I mean, a date doesn't sound like the worst thing ever," you admitted.

"Okay," he muttered softly, "It's a date."

Another silence hung around you before he spoke again, "I can give you a tour of the place if you like," he offered, smiling like an idiot.

You nodded, "That sounds fun, lead the way," you said, taking his hand in yours.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed

@almost-gabrielle @scarlett-8 @sarahskywalker-amidala @atashiboba @that1deerpersondownstairs @herondale-lightworm @purplerose291 @mitskiswift99 @crumby-child @rafslytherin @shanksvskidd @yerrmar

[stacygetsit]

****One of the common sentences that the doubters have used is that Luke and Nicola are not together because we see no signs of it on the Internet. I have read that one line sooo many times. I think people forget who Nic and Luke are. The reason we feel we know them like they are family is because on the tour they shared themselves with us we got to know them. But let's dive into some ideas I have. We wouldn't have known that Luke and Nic have even hung out outside of work and the only way we know is because it slipped during an interview. Ask yourself when is the last time you seen them hang out? Maybe when Luke had the play. We know Nic went to it but that was to promote his play. Nicola has never put it on the internet before the times they have hung out. We also know Nic wants to keep her private life separate and private. So could she be hanging out with Luke and NOT post? yes of course. If you pay attention to her last two set of photos there were pictures of people we didn't have any clue she was even around. Nicola clearly doesn't show us every single person she hung out with in 2024. So why do we think her relationship with Luke isn't taken in a serious matter. In the past five years we have had no indication that's she hung out with Luke (outside of work like events) and the only way we knew was by word of mouth can't we say it's fair to say she still doing it now? Yes we can assume that it's happening. She has stated that her relationship with Luke is unlike any relationship in her current life do you realize that included HER FRIEND JD. So again in order to understand what Nic is like with her man we have to look at how Nic was with her past relationships. The issue is we don't even know whom she has dated. Again I remind all of us we didn't know she lived with a man till again she said it. So clearly you can make an argument that unless Nic wants us to know we will be kept in the dark. This again is her past behavior this is realistically the only thing we have to understand what she would be like now. So my question to the doubters is why do you think she will react in any different type of way then she has in the past? So the doubters would say well that's because now it would be harder now to hide now that she is a celebrity. Well I have something to say about this. Yes her fame has risen but she not in the realm of Jennifer Aniston. Go ahead and ask your coworkers if they know who she is. Unless they have watch Bridgerton then honestly they might not. That's not me taking away anything she accomplished but it is a fact. Not everyone know who she is. Of course her fandom has grown BUT is it to a point that she being photographed everywhere she goes no. I want to remind you all that the photographer that took her photo in the Pub said on DM podcast he didn't even know who she was. And as much as I hate saying this it was "fans" that pointed DM toward Nic. I remember some of them sharing a screenshot of conversations they have had with DM. But that's a paparazzi that didn't even know who Nic was. That's how she able to fly under the radar. Which leads me into my next point and that is if DM thinks she dating JD then would she be looking for sightings of Nic and Luke NOPE. The paps are so concentrated on JD and Nic that it's not even in the realm of possibilities to look for Luke and Nic. I must applaud Nic and Luke for this. Good job. Yes did they take some heat. Yes especially Luke. But I can see why they took that hate on for each other. Now it makes sense to me why they weren't claiming these other people. One it wasn't true two plausible deniability. They never once stated they were dating these other people that was fans that assumed. Also I must add guys there are also places celebrities can go to get privacy or y'all it's called they are just choosing to say indoors more. And I honestly think Luke is phenomenal with sneaky around unseen. It's not unrealistic to assume he's not perfected it now for Nic.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Heyaa dunno if u write NSFW so read no further if you don't!

May we get uhhh Franco Barbi having his... "Lupara" (wink wink nudge nudge) kissed by a reader who happens to be one of his working girls and him being surprised at how sweet and gentle she is with him pls? Also reader is very shy because she's a newbie

Thank uu 😇

Love can be gentle

Franco Barbi x fem!reader

warning : smut, gun play, getting oral m, fluff, comfort, kissing, no use of y/n, nicknames like ma'am and good boy

Summary : It wasn't easy to run a theater, prepare a show and above all be a good boy who would make his mother proud. But even Franco needs a moment of peace and one of his girls has a special eye on the gangster. Perhaps there will be a romance movie for a change instead of just porn on the big screen.

info : Of course you will get something like this dear anon thanks a lot for the request, i had a lot of fun writing it especially for the shy reader it was really sweet. I wish you a lot of fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his area, his trial, he could do anything he wanted to sleep, drink milk, carve his ammunition from the most beautiful teeth or even turn to his victims who were all like playthings for the gangster whose lust is only surpassed by his love for violence.

Everyone knew Franco Barbi and his brutality but also his genius even down here in the hell of an asylum or wherever they were, nobody really knew and wouldn't think about it for long.

Because either you died in the first few days or you lost your mind trying to understand it...only the fewest still had something like emotions, morals or a mind.

A mind that still worked and a mind that could be used to give something to the more important experiments, like a wind-up toy that kept working instead of breaking.

,,You are his dolls, his girls so try to take it with a pinch of dignity, think of it as babysitting my dears” it was these words before the pills had taken effect and the new batch of prisoners was sent to Franco.

A couple of new pretty girls who would be Franco's poster children and decoys and weapons for his prey, they were bad kids who needed to be punished, he knew it, the dead knew it, they realized it too late and she knew it.

She knew it as well as the black patent stiletto heels on her feet as she made her rounds in the theater, her route now worn out for several minutes as they all did regardless of whether the game had begun or not, ,,Where are you?” she muttered, switching the revolver in her hand again to get her fingers moving again.

Franco had been gone for hours she had only seen him in the morning or however many o'clock it was when he disappeared with a few teeth, nervous and more excited than usual.

A thing she shouldn't really care about, no one should care about anyone here because their own survival was more important but Franco, her boss, her experiment, her sweet boy was something else to her since she met him which had almost resulted in the loss of her head if he hadn't pulled his lupara away when she had introduced herself to him.

This man the gangster psychopath with mother complex had just done it to her, he was cute and misunderstood and maybe it was the drugs, the pills, the gewlat or her lost hope for recovery but she had lost her heart a little to the man-baby.

Before her thoughts could go any further and she hoped that no one had seen her lost in thought look, she heard an unmistakable scream and wailing from afar.

Franco was back and seemed more stressed than usual, she immediately felt worried as she watched him come into the theater by the broken window and the ,,I hope for you dolls you're all on your fucking posts!” scream could be heard, something that seemed normal to the others put her on edge.

Was it normal? Did he want something? Should she go to him? Didn't someone have to calm him down because babysitting was her job, so to speak?

But the warmth on her cheeks and her heart now beating faster than it should didn't make things any better, despite everything she had seen, her nervousness didn't seem to have gone away, let alone her shyness.

Something that wasn't even bad Franco even seemed satisfied that she didn't talk so much because she was afraid to say the wrong thing and couldn't get anything out without dying of heat exhaustion...but now she finally had a chance.

Holstering her gun, she finally broke away from her route and walked down the stairs from the second floor as best the building would allow into the main hall where only he sat, each step making her more nervous, the questions and scenarios she imagined becoming more and more terrifying.

But her shoes betrayed her and the creaking of the old wood seemed to be a scream in the relatively quiet room, ,,What the fuck do you want?” the question from Franco, who had his gun pointed at her, was a shot and she put her hands up briefly, seeing how he seemed to relax as much as possible.

Her voice trailed off for a moment and she cleared her throat before coming to stand in front of him, looking down at him, ,,I...I saw you were nervous, do you need something?” she asked, her fingers clutching at the short skirt that exposed most of her legs to him.

An outfit not quite to her taste but it seemed to do something for Franco whose blue eyes were reluctant to leave her and smirked, ,,Do I fucking need anything? Doll, I don't think you can give me what I need, can you?” he asked, a challenging look in his eyes.

A look that she had often seen, especially when he had found a pretty, beautiful victim whose body he wanted to use for his personal collection, a look that not only made her nervous but also turned her on more than it should.

I'd give you anything Franco she would have liked to scream and get down on her knees in front of him but instead her gaze dropped nervously to the floor and she stammered around the right words, something that seemed to amuse the gangster greatly and he had forgotten his worries, at least for now.

She was new and he had been playing this game for as long as he had been here, it was a game of cat and mouse, a game of knowing and giving in but here she knew he only spoke the language of brutality...but in the few moments she had seen him for herself he was not only alone but also searching for love and gentleness.

Maybe as he didn't have to admit his side she just had to jump over her shadow and whether it was because of the gas and drugs or her love for him didn't matter as she carefully knelt down in front of him and Franco's gaze became curious.

The baby had become interested in what was happening in front of him, a beautiful woman, perfect shoes with heels that could and would surely hurt him, hands that would hit him if he leaned on them and a gun that would shoot if he pulled down her skirt.

Just as he reached his hand out to her, still feeling impatient and angry, she laid her cheek against his hand, her warm cheek seeming almost alien to him since every female body he played with was actually cold.

But this warmth was almost pleasant, so pleasant that he began to caress her cheek lightly, breaking their eye contact every now and then, both unsure if this was the right thing to do, ,,I can show you gentleness...if you like Franco” she began to find her voice seemed to be in the right place as she knelt between his legs looking at him a gentle look meeting his now uncertain one as he was not used to this new feeling.

Her hands moved from her skirt to his white-streaked suit pants, tracing the fabric, the skin underneath squeezing slightly with a pleasant tug, and she plucked up the courage to reach for his gun.

His most important possession, which he also clutched for fear she would take it away from him, ,,Gentleness can also be loving, caring and nurturing,” she continued to murmur, the words escaping her lips and a Franco unaware that such a thing even seemed possible.

But he hesitantly loosened his lupara and her lips kissed the wood and metal, the cold weapon giving her a goose bump that seemed to pass to Franco as he groaned at the sight.

How pretty she was, how gentle she was with such an ugly thing, how her lips kissed along the gun, how his mind interpreted the image into something ambiguous and he felt how he wanted her...but not rough and dead, he wanted that softness she gave him.

She ran her tongue over the barrel of the gun metal and blood tasted unpleasant but not strange and her fingers ran over his strokes, ,,Gentle-gentle is good, the baby will like it” she heard his rough voice as he kept his noises under control not wanting to interrupt her.

She didn't want to lose the idea that had rarely fascinated and above all aroused him so much, an arousal that pressed painfully against his pants and she had seen this long ago when she finished her little performance, encouraged by his reaction.

Encouraged by how he saw her, what he thought of her but most of all that he liked her gentleness was something that gave her the courage she needed as she placed her hands on his cheeks for a moment, ,,A good boy you are Franco, so good for your ma'am” she murmured with the same warm cheeks as she engaged him in a kiss. Franco felt her hold his hands gently on her hips, yet not letting go, he had taken a liking to the new feeling.

Something he'd never had and would now only get from her and he let her pull as her fingers traveled down his torso, running over his arousal, the deformed one whimpering as his fingers dug into the back of the seat instead of gripping her tightly.

The praise did wonders for him, along with the gentleness it was just something he'd never felt before, ,,Your reward baby...for behaving to take some of the stress off you,” she said, and he barely remembered in his fuzzy memory why he'd been so angry when he'd burst in here.

Undoing the button of his pants, she ran her tongue over the fabric of them first and was almost surprised at the hasty movement of his hips, he really was an impatient man.

But she didn't let herself be put off and licked once more over the fabric gently, teasing a little before she freed his cock from the fabric, the whimpering and pleading of the psychopath rewarding her with a kiss on the already dripping tip.

Spreading it a little with more kisses and licks, she was sure he could come from that alone.

He had held out so well for her, responded so well to her praise, ,,Be gentle and Mommy gives you everything,” she said, her hand gently stroking his and he held onto it as a breathless begging continued to come from his lips and she finally took his own 'lupara' in her mouth to show him how gentle and intimate something like this could be.

He just had to behave and be a good boy who simply had to accept the feeling of love and softness if he wanted to continue to feel it on him...because even love is soft.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lovesick-on-the-loose , @millie-milkshake , @xgrisleyx , @trash-flowerss

[hkevisvlsvso]

Okay finally got something done :')

This may be kinda shit but posted it anyway cause i want to send here that better part of story(where they kiss :3)

The '~~~~' -things are just something what goes like the same in the series and i was too lazy to write them but you all know what happended there so..

And it ends on a really random point of the episode but ... . . ..

And I didn't know what to call die Wilden Kerle so just called it Wilden Kerle🥲

-yea so enjoy:

-----------------------☆☆☆-------------------------

I sit on my bed and stare at the math book resting in front of me, even though the numbers have been blurred in my eyes for ages into an unrecognizable background mass, thanks to which I can only see my thoughts very clearly. I should be doing homework, but my mind is wandering. Unfortunately, they somehow always find their way to Leon.

I have already declared to myself that I officially hate Leon, and I will never forgive him. He's a complete asshole full of himself and left me- I mean, us, for fame, even though he was the one who insisted that anyone who leaves the Wilden Kerle is a shameful traitor. He's a self-righteous jerk. And I hate him. I really, really hate him. Just because I can't stop thinking about him doesn't mean I don't hate him.

I throw the book at the wall and stand up, because sitting isn't going to help anything. I decide to go for a bike ride somewhere just to get my thoughts elsewhere.

After I've been cycling for a while, Vanessa comes up to meet me. Slowed down my pace so she can turn to cycle in the same direction as me.

Vanessa looks happy. As if nothing happened yesterday. At least she doesn't seem to miss Leon at all. I hope I don't look like that myself, although I literally couldn't sleep last night thinking about Leon and his last look all night. In other words, nothing is normal, not without Leon, and if it bothers Vanessa at all, she hides it really well.

So Vanessa smiles as if it wasn't just yesterday that Leon left our team, waves her hand after getting next to me, and says:

"Marlon called. Hadschi has finally found the owner of the last skull!"

I smile, even genuinely this time.

"Let's go."

~~~~~

Of course Markus's father was not in the bank. It's Sunday now. But where did he go?

Suddenly Vanessa notices his car in front of the museum. What the hell is he doing there?

"Let's go see."

We crouched behind Markus' father's car. I hope Vanessa listens to what he and the mayor are talking about, because I only listen with half an ear. "It would be better if you take it, Mr. Mayor. It's not safe in my house."

I loved Leon. He was actually a complete asshole, but maybe that's why I liked him. He didn't really try to please me, on the contrary, he almost always seemed to be arguing or outright begging to be fucked, but that's why he's so funny and natural, himself. He is also honest and speaks his mind directly, so when he compliments me, I know he really means it. He wouldn't just say that so I wouldn't feel bad, because he doesn't care if I get hurt by his words.

In my previous schools, many girls have wanted to date me. I agreed to the first request because I was stupid. I had never spoken to that girl, and one day her friends snubbed her giggling in front of me.

If I were to think about such things, I would say that it was quite unnerving to stand in front of some random person while she squealed and giggled and her friends stared at us, amused by the awkward situation. Finally, the girl mumbled that she had a crush on me. I didn't know what to answer so I said "okay".

It wasn't an affirmative answer as far as I know because she didn't actually ask anything, but still her friends started squealing in love and clearly this girl was now my girlfriend.

At first I thought that it could be quite nice, and that at least the girl liked me. I was naive. It started to dawn on me at the latest when I realized she was only talking about my dad or how "handsome" I was. Her real compliments were flat, and she probably didn't believe even her own tone of voice when she said I was funny. Instead, I was too quiet and too cold and sarcastic and short and my favorite dark green hoodie at the time was unfashionable. She threw it in the trash can. On the other hand, I'm quite grateful for that, because in hindsight it was really quite horrible, and my father had never liked it either.

The girl left me after two months of dating, because she said I was too quiet and distant, and I didn't care about anything but football.

Which was indeed true.

Through me, the girl had gotten to know the members of my soccer team at the time, and because of that I saw her many times a week when she came to the team's practices to see her new boyfriend. She kept winking at me when I was sitting on the bench, but never said anything. Except for one time when she came to sit next to me and twirl her blonde hair around her fingers. He greeted me in a voice I had heard too many times before, and I felt a dark satisfaction when I said nothing and moved two seats away from her. The girl stared at me shocked for a moment, as if she couldn't understand how I could not like her, and she was very annoyed when I allowed myself a satisfied smile just to show that I didn't care, and then she went to approach her new boyfriend.

A similar thing happened a couple of times until I learned to say no, and to leave people before they leave me, when I turned out to be a completely normal person, even though I have a perfect father.

Leon is honest. If he says I'm good, he really thinks I'm good.

However, he really cares about us more than he admits. He would never say it out loud, maybe he wouldn't even fully admit it to himself, but I know. He could go to any length for the things that are important to him. He is wild, in the sense that he himself wrote it in Wilden Kerle's rule list.

It's just a shame that this time he chose to care about fame more than his team, and will go as far as he needs to for it.

I wish he cares about me more than he admits.

Or: I wished he cared about me more than he would admit.

Nowadays, I don't give a damn what, or who, he cares about. Not after what he did.

Markus' father and the mayor leave the car back towards the museum, and I remember that I had to eavesdrop on their conversation. Well, I hope Vanessa was listening..

"Let's follow!" I say as if I am fully aware of the whole situation.

We walk into the museum hall when the doorman stops us.

"Is there an invitation?" he asks in the most strained tone anyone has ever spoken in. I stare at him, and then at Vanessa, as if to signal that he needs to come up with something.

"um, we just wanted to-"

"I can't let you in without an invitation", the doorman interrupts. Then, suddenly, Leon appears out of nowhere.

Okay, I admit to staring at him, and even though I hate him, it doesn't stop me from thinking about how I like his hair, or how I'm so happy to see him that I just want to hug him and have him hug me and feel his warmth against me.

I still hate him.

Leon finally seems to understand that we want to get inside.

"They came to see the new superstar. Me."

Superstar. I don't know if I should be amused or outraged. For some reason, I still missed his voice, even though I last heard it only yesterday.

Still I smile. I want him back and he's clearly helping us.

"Uh... Don't you read magazines?" I ask to reinforce Leon's words.

"Ah, I understand. In that case."

I'm not sure if Leon is just smiling in general, or if he's smiling at me.

I hope he's smiling at me.

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Guys I think I just wrote a really short part of some Deon fanfic...

It's like in s2 e12 the scene when Leon comes to the landfill(I have no idea what is it called really in the english dub version so..) and... u know.

Because i just realised that Deniz looks so sad when Leon comes while everyone else looked just angry 😭

The way how Deniz stares at that book like he knows Leon is going to leave him and the whole team but thinks that if he doesn't see it and just focuses on the book, mabye it won't really happen....

BUT, here it is. I'm really bad at english so i hope you understand it😅😅

[(Almost) all the lines were from the finnish dub, idk if it's the same in other languages but mabye it's okay....]

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I look up from the book when I hear footsteps approaching. Leon walks to the landfill looking far too casual. Traitor. A little hope flutters inside me. However, it slows down as soon as Vanessa says:

- Well, who's that? Came to tell us about your big ad campaign?

If Leon was going to apologize, he wouldn't do it after that. I press my gaze to the book and try to focus on the ancient Greek numerical codes. I want to shut out everything around me. I just want to squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them, Leon comes beside me on the rusty roof of the car and wraps his arms around my neck and gives me something else to think about and figures out a way to get Teufelstopf back and all is well again.

No.

When I open my eyes, I'm still staring at the much too small and monotonous text of the book. Leon snorts.

- actually, I came to apologize for being so busy these days, but if you're like that, I guess it's better that I don't come at all anymore. Ever.

He doesn't know how much his cold voice breaks my heart. But I can be cold too. And I have that right. He is leaving the bunch. I stand up on the roof of the car. Leon has already turned to leave when I say:

- That's what I said too. We can do without a captain like that.

My words feel like a heavy lump on my chest, and a few more pounds are added to that lump when I realize I'm right. Leon was always the one who insisted that no one should ever leave the team. He loved football and the team more than anything in this world, as did I, and that was probably part of the reason I fell for him. But now he is leaving Teufelstopf, the Wild Soccer Bunch, us, me, for fame. I didn't think that he would be the one who leaves the team.

When Leon hears my words, something disappears in his eyes, something inexplicable. At least I think I see it. Or I hope. Or at least I want to.

He doesn't even say anything. Anger and disappointment bubble up inside me. I jumped down from the car. The thump of my feet againstthe ground makes Leon quickly turn towards me. I look at him. At the moment, I would like to just hug him on the one hand, and hit him on the other hand. I clench my hands into fists.

- I fucking koved you, I say way more toxic than i meant to. Though mabye it's just a good thing. I don't know.

I let all the pent-up sadness and frustration come out of my voice because I want him to know I'm serious. I say it so quietly that no one else can hear it, even though I want to scream it into his ear. On the other hand, I probably couldn't make a louder sound than this, almost a whisper, from the stranglehold of grief. Leon looks me in the eyes and for a few moments I may notice sadness in his eyes. Almost as crushing as my grief. Then he just closes his eyes, turns around and leaves. Up until now, I have felt that everything will be alright. But now I know that I don't have Leon anymore, everything is lost.

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It was kinda google translator english but hope you liked it.. I'm not sure if i do?

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[yoonstudios]

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