#i only have it set to post 7 times a day so its slow going

[ahollowgrave]

I've been trying to queue things more so as not to spam people, idk if it's working or if it's just double spam (':

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Honey Cappuccino with Cinnamon

Kento Nanami x Barista! Reader SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

You get a new patron in your cafe, a dashingly handsome, well mannered, well spoken, Kento Nanami.

wc: 13k, whoops

Content: Smut, Fluff, comfort, kind of a slow burn, kissing (ooooo!!), sex, brief fear/violence (but not sexual), small curse appearance, cunnalingus, reader is female, smoking, swearing no spit (r u guys proud or disappointed), bad ending

Ao3, Masterlist, Coffee headcannons. dont reproduce my work or post it anywhere else. i came up with it out of my head. Enjoy.

You loved your morning openings, most people would have preferred to sleep in, enjoy their mornings at home, take their time getting ready for the day, all while the sun was settled in the sky. But you loved waking up in the misty dark, walking in the clean, morning air, and setting up the cafe before the sun found its way out of bed. The hour and a half before the cafe opened felt like you were the only person in the entire world, total serenity. You could make your own coffee, just how you liked it, luxuriate in the smells of last night's prepped pastries baking to perfection in the oven, work at your own pace while listening to an audiobook or a playlist that you chose. It was the time you looked forward to most throughout the week; your perfect hour of bliss. Uninterrupted bliss. 

The ringing of the door chime was your indicator to return to reality and remember that the cafe didn’t exist solely for your own personal enjoyment, but was in fact a buzzing success. From 6 AM opening to 7 PM closing the cafe would see anywhere between 300-700 customers a day. The large majority of them just stopped in, ordering, and leaving upon receiving their coffee and scone or whatever it was they wanted. A handful you saw nearly every day. You, of course, knew their names, you were a professional. But your first rung of memory was always their orders. 

The gentleman that comes on his bike with his canvas backpack -- a double espresso with equal parts hot water to the espresso. 

The woman who comes with her daughters every morning -- two blended caramel frappes for them, three shots of espresso over ice in a large cup for her. (she pours a protein shake over it and mixes it together. She’s been trying to get you on it. You tried it once, she's onto something.) 

The college kid whose eye bags have doubled in size since they first came in. -- Iced americano, one more shot than you feel is ethical each time. 

Three shot soy latte guy, small decaf mocha woman with a fresh set of nails every time you saw her, long pull espresso always in a porcelain cup for the older woman with the faded purple lipstick, etc. etc. 

The mental list of orders must have been a mile long but you kept them all in your heart. You have seen people before job interviews, between shifts, between jobs, on breaks, days off, first dates, break ups, going to work, coming from it, anything in between. Second only to your sacred alone time, was the way you got to know the people who continued to come. Your position as a customer service worker was not without the obvious dregs of complaints and entitlement from the comers and goers, who never asked your name or about your day, and always had something wrong with their drinks, but it was all overshadowed by the kind faces you recognized so well. And nothing could compare to seeing someone for the second or third time, knowing you had secured another person a favorite coffee shop where they could feel comfortable and know that this small, but vital, piece of their life would be taken seriously and made carefully, exactly to their tastes. You liked giving people that peace, a little taste of your own. 

This morning when you opened, you got into the cafe at 4:30. Early for the 6:00 opening but you wanted to enjoy the languid morning hours a little extra today, and you did. You took your time setting the pastry display, straightening up the table, setting up the self service bar. Before you knew it, there was only a half hour left before opening. The large drip brewers were prepped, ready to fill the cafe with the rich smell of fresh coffee at the touch of a button, the last batch of lemon scones were in the oven, you had just finished counting the drawer for the register and were about to spend the last twenty minutes before turning on the open sign in sweet, perfect silence, enjoying your own favorite coffee when the bell chimed.

“We’re not open yet,” your eyes stayed closed, prepping for the first sip of your perfect morning indulgence. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. The sign is on, I didn’t realize.” A rich, oaky voice filled the echoey cafe. 

You opened your eyes and turned to face the voice. The owner of the voice was a tall man, over six feet, a full, broad figure clad in a tan coat over a dark blue button up. The outer layer couldn’t conceale the way his shirt stretched over his chest, buttons meeting, but just barely. A queer looking yellow tie spotted almost like a cheetah or a banana thankfully covered the higher up, more stretched gaps. But what struck you the most was his face, hard lined cheekbones, long, slender nose, hard set jaw, thin but full rosy lips, a set of unique green lensed glasses resting over his eyes. He was stunning, completely beautiful, the kind of beauty that could strike a god down to earth for the chance of love. You felt your throat tighten, your mouth fall open.

“I-uh, Sorry.” And yet you still couldn’t figure out how to respond. 

He took a moment to look at you, then checked his watch, pulling up his sleeve for you to see the joint of his wrist. Behind him you could see the white neon light of the open sign shining through the front window. Your face heated, mortified at how unprofessional you were being, gawking at him. 

“Oh. I am early-- I’ll come back. I’d hate for you to star----”

“No!” you interrupted, waiting just a touch too long before continuing, “You’re barely early, excuse my flippancy, please come in. What can I get you?” 

You took your place behind the counter, he moved to the other side of the counter, he scanned the menu board above your head, turning his chin up slightly, giving you a view of the muscles in his neck. Your mouth watered. You brought your eyes down to the screen in front of you, desperate to quiet the thoughts in your mind. 

“I really would hate for you to start work early. Especially for my sake I can wait outside.” 

“Don’t be silly! I couldn’t have you out there waiting when I can help you now.” 

You absolutely could, and had, on many occasions done exactly that. Letting the morning rush wait until operating hours no matter how early they wanted to “just squeak in super fast!”. But you wanted to keep him inside, bring him closer, give him anything he wanted. Hell, if he turned out to want all the money in the register you probably would have at least considered it.  

The rich voice filled your ears once again, “A cappuccino, please. With just a bit of honey, please.”

Great order, and so polite. 

“You got it.” You plugged it into the computer, the total appearing on his side of the screen, “dry or wet?” 

He cleared his throat abruptly, eyes wide behind the thick frames, “uh…?”

You didn’t realize how it came out, “more milk or more foam?” 

He collects himself, “uh wet, then.” 

You nod, “any preference of milk?”

“Whatever you have is fine.” 

You started the espresso grinder, the whirring filling the soundless air of the cafe, “this is a cafe, we have like six milks.” 

He nods, “right. Um…whatever you use I’m sure is fine.” 

You mirror his nod, “oat is, then. Anything else I can get you?” 

“One of those croissants, please.” He gestured to the pastry case, ten perfect flaky butter croissants sitting beautifully. 

“Great choice.” You smile, “I’ll get your drink.” 

You turned back toward the espresso machine as he moved to start paying on his screen of the register. You were grateful to have an excuse to turn away from him, away from the magnetism of him, to have something to focus on and hopefully regain an ounce of your composure. 

Nanami collected his breath, grateful to have your sparkling gaze out of his immediate eyeline. It takes more focus than would normally be necessary to complete his payment. Fingers trembling over the ‘no receipt’ button, his eyes drifted up again. The large espresso machine in front of you hissed and dripped the fragrant, rich liquid into the small espresso cup underneath. 

“Is this your first time in?” Your voice rang like a bell in the empty cafe, you were pouring milk into a metal pitcher as you spoke to him, not missing a drop. 

So much ease, precision, the routine of skilled work over years of honing, everything was perfectly measured, foamed, and stirred. You clearly took care in what you did, your hands were so still and even as you tipped the small fridge door open with your foot to slip the milk carton back inside. The brief scream of the milk knocked him back into his senses. 

“Yes.” He answered, hoping to keep his internal chastisement out of his tone. 

You nodded watching the milk whirlpool in its small silver pitcher, “I thought so. I don’t think I’ve seen you in before. I’m basically always here, and I think I would have remembered you.” 

A blush heated your cheeks, but you discarded it as steam, pulling the wand from the pitcher and tapping its bottom against the counter. You poured the honey sweetened espresso into a small to-go cup, and topped it with a fair serving of water before meeting the lip of the pitcher with the liquid so the foam could slide perfectly across. 

Nanami watched the smile slide across your lips, cheeks pulling upward, a satisfied sigh leaving you as you perfected the drink. His drink. His. 

He shouldn't be acting like this, he just stopped in to get a quick coffee before returning to the school. The last assignment had been grueling, he was only just finishing it. Talk about Overtime. This was ridiculous, he had been in an awful mood before walking in, miserably dragging himself through the doors of the first lit up cafe he stumbled across. And yet here he was, his previously drained heart beating, no palpitating, in his chest at just a few exchanges. You finally turned back around to face him, presenting the drink to him without its lid, letting him see the perfect line of dusted cinnamon across the foam cap. 

“Here you are!” You beamed at him, hoping to see a flicker of a smile or some kind of praise. 

He didn’t smile but you thought maybe you saw something soften in him. He accepted it across the counter, bringing it up to his mouth and taking a sip. Then he smiled. He couldn’t help it. It was perfect. Perfectly sweet from the honey, but still letting the robust bitterness of the espresso shine, the body of the oat milk complimenting the two perfectly, making the whole concoction taste like a cinnamon and oatmeal cookie that he’d indulge in in some private, anonymous, curseless cafe that he thought only existed in his mind. But he may have found it. 

“Wow. It’s excellent.” His lens-guarded eyes warmed at you through their green filters, “Thank you.” 

A chrysalis was twitching in your heart, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” 

A moment passed as you waited for him to speak again, praying this interaction wouldn’t be over yet. The chime of the bell at the door broke you away from him, turning to see the beginning trickle of the morning flood enter. He was a nice enough guy, same thing every morning: four shots of espresso with two brown sugars in a porcelain mug that he would sit at one of the back tables in and read the morning paper no matter how ungodly early it was, but right now you wished he never dared step into your shop in the first place. When you looked back and saw the end of Honey Cappuccino’s motion to check his watch, he met your gaze once again. 

“Oh! Your croissant, I'm sorry.” You breathed out, kicking yourself for being foolish enough to think he was lingering to talk to you more, not waiting for the rest of his order.

“Right.” You heard from above you as you opened the pastry case. 

You retrieved the biggest, prettiest pastry for him and put it gently into a paper bag, straightening up to hand it to him. 

“No one going to work this early should go without breakfast.” You smiled, hoping to soften the blow of your unprofessional behavior. 

He nodded, accepting the bagged pastry, “Thank you, for indulging me so early. Next time I assure you I will be within the operating hours.” 

The chrysalis stirred again and you giggled its rhythm, “Don’t you worry. You come back anytime, okay?” 

He nodded again, before moving toward the door. You couldn't help the way your rubbernecked his exit all the way past the edges of the large shop windows. Turning back to the register and seeing your early bird regularly standing before you. Thankfully you knew his regular order by heart and could plug it in and nod through polite conversation without having to stop your rumination 

He had said Next time, implying he would come in again. You said a silent prayer to nothing that he would. At least so you could redeem yourself. So you could remind yourself and demonstrate to him  that you were a consummate professional. The rest of your day was spent smoothly, that tapping, fluttering feeling in your chest was quiet and still. You made drinks, cleaned and stocked the store, were courteous and charming with customers and coworkers alike. But you couldn’t get the man from this morning out of your mind, you didn't even ask what his name was. He would only be Honey Cappuccino Guy, for now, and that would have to be enough for now. 

Nanami entered the school still nursing the last dregs of the cappuccino, savoring the taste of honey and the memory of you in tandem. The high of your interaction was beginning to wane, the head and body ache of a night of reconnaissance and curse slaying an albatros growing denser and denser around his neck. He longed to finish his report and head home as soon as possible, already budgeting the allotment of time that felt appropriate for an early afternoon nap before resuming the chores he had left unfinished at home in a rare act of laziness. He hadn’t eaten his croissant yet, finding it rude to eat on the train, and his stomach felt barren, it seemed every part of him was echoing in discomfort. An echo that was seemingly non-existent in the warm light of the cafe. 

He sighed, rounding the corner to the small extra room that had been designated as his “office”. Not being a member of the teaching staff at Jujutsu High, there was little necessity for him to have a space of his own on its campus. He could easily complete his necessary paperwork in the common areas, or even at home. But Yaga had insisted on marking one of the empty offices as his, with some encouragement from a certain white haired sorcerer. The dwindling number of active sorcerers in the area was certainly a motive to keep each other close. So Nanami obliged, stopping by for meetings, assignments; both at their beginnings and upon their completion.  

This last assignment had been grueling, extending too far into the night, he almost felt dishonest filling out the time card associated with the final report. Nearly twelve straight hours of traveling, hunting, and fighting. It was a miracle he wasn’t delirious. He stretched back in his chair, the lactic acid that longed to settle in his back and legs crackling and redispursing. He found himself again remembering the lilt of your voice, the smell of lemon and sugar and fresh roasted grounds in the air of the cafe. The sense of peaceful indulgence carried him through the next two hours of work before he could drag himself home to shed the day and pass out, dreaming amorphously about flaky pastries and kind expressions. 

It would be almost two weeks before you would see him in the cafe again. You were restocking the milks in the small fridge underneath the counter that housed the espresso machine when the bell rang. It had been a dreadfully slow morning, mostly regulars and single, simple drink orders. It had given you plenty of time to clean, and fantasize. The large, well dressed man from eleven days ago hadn’t yet left your mind. His voice, his stature, his odd clothing, his demeanor. You were positive your memory had to have been generous the more and more you recollected the meeting, surely no one person could be so handsome. So charming, so, in the truest sense of the word, attractive. But when he stepped through your threshold once again, you found that your memory was ironclad. Tall, broad, sculpted features, odd glasses, leopard print tie, pristine styled hair, every detail of him was perfect. Your breath caught in your throat, but even that couldn’t interrupt the smile that widened on your lips. 

“It’s you.” you all but gasp out. 

He crosses toward the counter, a faint smile showing itself only on the edges of his lips, eyes wide and set on you, an expression you couldn't realize was mirroring your own awe. 

“You can say that about anyone. It’s always true.” His voice was just as smooth and even as before, you felt an all too familiar stirring in your chest. 

You laugh, “Good point. I didn’t expect to see you back. Thought I might have scared you off.” 

“Certainly not!” He can feel the burn in his cheeks, “You were kind enough to extend your hours for me. How could I not return to at least say thank you.” 

“Oh!” you chastised yourself for the twinge of disappointment you felt realizing he wasn’t here with any motive other than politeness, “It was no trouble really, it’s like the easiest drink in the world to make.”

He nods, “well, Thank you nonetheless, your work got me through the rest of mine.” 

You let out a low whistle, “That was one hell of a clock in time. Do you always go in that early?” 

“I was finishing up actually. Long project, I…lost track of time.” He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to provide you with more information, ordinarily he would dodge questions in their entirety. Truthfully he would ordinarily never be in this situation to begin with, never having been one for casual small talk.  

“Wow…that’s intense.” you couldn't imagine working such a strange schedule, what extreme hours like that must do to a person, “what is it you do?”

This is exactly why Nanami does not engage in casual small talk, does not approach topics that could lead back to sorcery or jujutsu or anything related to his job, why he does not talk to the pretty girl behind the counter. Because now he has to lie. His heart sinks, but he steels himself. 

“I'm a sort of exterminator.” He answers smoothly. Not technically a lie. 

You hum, seeing him stiffen; you’ve seen this before, folks can be cagey about their professions, and particularly assumptions made about them based on what they do, you knew when not to pry, “Hm. You must have to be on your feet a lot.” 

He’s grateful you chose a surface level observation instead of prying further. 

“Well what can I get for you today? Got another long one in the books? Should I break out the hard stuff?” You smile warmly at him, catching his eyes. 

It's then that you realize he isn't wearing those peculiar glasses that he had before. Thick green lenses absent, and amber eyes revealed in their stead. The outermost rings of his irises were dark, oaky brown, his lashes were long but faint, small freckles now visible across his nose and dappling the tops of his high, hollow cheeks. Not only was your memory not being generous, he had somehow become more handsome. You took in a shaky breath, trying to ignore the stirring inside of you. 

“One cappuccino with honey, please. Just the same as last time.” 

“You got it!” You tap the corresponding buttons. 

He pays with a card, a chime sounding as he taps against the reader. He is grateful for an excuse to look away, it feels like every time he looks at you, you’re looking back at him, so intently. He feels studied by you, hot under your gaze. He wonders to himself if the blush he feels creeping up the back of his neck is visible to you. Your smile earlier made it begin its journey from the warmth of his chest up toward the tops of his ears. His harness feels too tight, his jacket feels stuffy and restricting. He reaches up as you finish up the payment across from him and tugs his tie looser, routinely unbuttoning the first button of his shirt. It's then that he notices his hands are sweating. 

Fuck me. Pull it together. He pleads to himself accepting the receipt as you turn away.

Back facing him you begin weighing out the espresso, you can hear his footsteps as he steps off to the side. You catch your breath, gearing yourself up for your next move. The drink comes together quickly. Honey, espresso, steamed and frothed oat milk, a small dusting of cinnamon. You giggle to yourself about the cinnamon on the creamy foam mirroring the dusting of freckles along his face. God, you're pathetic. You roll your eyes at yourself and inhale. You turn back to the counter before stalling. He wasn't waiting at the counter and you had, once again, been too frazzled to ask his name. 

“Uh…H-honey cappuccino?” Your voice wavered weakly. 

He crosses over from the other side of the cafe where he had been admiring the community board, where local artists would hang their work, organizers would add flyers for local events etc. He traversed the room in three long strided steps. 

“I’m sorry, I usually ask for a name, I forgot.” You explained. 

He accepts the paper to-go cup between you, “It’s Nanami, thank you.” 

“It's nice to meet you.” You smile. 

“And your name?” He is quick to inquire. 

You tell him, smile widening, he nods and repeats it softly. He sips from the black lid, ignoring the initial shock of heat. It's just as perfect as before, a small sound of approval resonates from his chest, you wish it had less of an effect on you than it does. 

“It’s perfect. You’re very talented, thank you.” He offers a small, polite bow before sipping again. 

“Like I said, it's an easy drink.” you shy away from his compliment. 

“Well, I’m grateful.” He begins to step away from the counter. 

“Thank you. Have a good rest of your day.” You put on your most professional and least loaded smile, “Come by and see us again Mr. Nanami.” 

He nods at you, smiling as he turns and exits the cafe. 

And he did come by again. And again. And again. 

Beginning as once a week, then twice a week, soon he begins to factor a third visit into his weekly routine. Coffee the same every time, including sometimes a pastry; taking a particular liking to the ginger and poppyseed scones, and the oat and lemon frosted cookies, but more often than both leaving with a simple croissant. One some trips the conversation if brief; shallow, single day focused conversation topics: weather, traffic within the cafe, the pastry selection you had out that day. On other days he would ask you questions: when did you learn to make coffee? Have you always lived in this area? Etc. Some days you would be so bogged down with making orders upon his arrival that one of your coworkers would be the one taking his order instead. You quieted the rising jealousy as you heard your fellow barista giggle and swoon at his rich, staccato voice. On those days you would write his name cleanly on the side of his cup and make sure to linger at the drop off counter as you called his name for his drink. 

“Busy in here, huh?” You baited, handing him the steaming cup. 

“It seems my favorite secret cafe is not so secret anymore.” Nanami’s voice sounded truly disappointed. 

You faked insult, “You think you discovered this place? I’ll have you know we’re a local staple!” 

He let out a small laugh, sipping his drink and sighing, “perfect as always, thank you.”

“Of course Nanami, anytime.” You blush at his praise, it never gets old. 

“WIll you be here next Wednesday?” He asked. 

He had never asked for your schedule before. You tried your best to hide your excitement. 

“I will! I’m opening. So feel free to stop by thirty minutes before if you're desperate.” you teased. 

He let out a guilty laugh, “ Well, I'll see you then. Well within operating hours, I promise.” 

You nod, a bit too quickly, “Sounds good.” 

He smiled and nodded again, turning and exiting. 

Your favorite coworker who had been working the register approached you, following your eyeline as it tailed him out of the cafe. 

“Planning on asking him out soon?” She poked your side. 

“No way, Nanami?” You dismissed, “Yeah right, he’s just being nice.”

“Right.” She begins, “because he comes here every week because the coffee here is just that good.” 

Her tone is cutting and sarcastic, she pushes your shoulder lightly before returning to the register, leaving you to your own thoughts. You hadn’t considered the fact that he could actually be coming here for you, of course you hoped and fantasized about exactly that, but faced with someone else’s observation you felt…strange. Embarrassed and exhilarated. You wondered what would come on Wednesday. 

“Thanks for taking me to coffee Nanami-san, You really don’t have to treat me!” Ino Takuma beamed as he walked into the cafe. 

He was beyond excited when his mentor had asked him to have a meeting today after training to discuss the upcoming recommendations. Nanami held the door for Ino as he babbled his way inside, reciting his thank yous over and over. 

“You’re welcome, Ino. I asked you here because I have something to discuss with you. Consider it an expensed lunch.” 

“Still! Thank you so much. I’m honored that you would make time for me, I know how demanding the schedule of a grade one sorcerer can be!” Ino continued, wanting to showcase how prepared he was to take on the demand himself. 

“Lower your voice,” Nanami chastized and pushed up his glasses, shielding his eyes as he scanned the population of the cafe. It must be a slow day, only three patrons to be seen. One sitting at the bar top, reading the newspaper, and a couple seated in the front corner, focused on splitting a pastry right down the center with a small butter knife. 

“Nanami!” 

Ino watched as the muscles in Nanami’s neck appeared. Not in frustration or exertion, the way he had seen so many times before, but a completely new reflex. Dare he think, excitement? He watched carefully as his mentor was urged forward by the woman behind the counter, the beautiful woman behind the counter. Nanami was quick to cross to the empty counter, Ino trotted behind with wide, watching eyes. 

“Good morning! It’s still morning isn’t it?” You smiled craning to see the wall clock. When you turned back your gaze fell to the slightly younger man behind Nanami. He was probably twenty or twenty one, his frame similarly toned and cultivated, hair shaggy and smile twinkling, “You brought a friend. Wait! Is this your brother?”

You looked closely between the two men, both handsome, both well made men with cut features and toned, imposing bodies. A similar height, a similar build. The younger man’s coloring was slightly darker; Nanami’s eyes amber, where his were deep oak, Nanami’s blonde hair contrasted against the other’s shaggy brown hair, but you could see where a family resemblance would reside. 

“No.” Nanami answers cooly, much to Takuma’s chagrin (despite its honesty), “Ino is an apprentice of mine, I’m treating him to lunch today because of his hard work.”

“Well, congratulations, it’s nice to meet you.  What can I get you both?” You smile, side glancing at Nanami. 

Ino blushes through his order, taken by how magnetic you feel when you talk to him. Privately watching how Nanami listens closely when you talk, uses his eyebrows more in his responses to you. You know his order, you sound flirtatious as you ask if he wants his “usual”, Ino sees as Nanami’s lips curl as he nods and selects two pastries from the case to accompany their lunch. Was Nanami…flirting? It seemed everytime you would turn your back, Nanami was catching his breath, and as soon as you returned he hung on your every word. Ino was beyond delighted, he had never seen this side of his mentor before. He watches as you complete the payment, fluttering your lashes and stringing your words together. When the order is complete he follows Nanami to a table in the back of the cafe.

“Ino, I wanted to ask you…”Nanami struggled with the next part of his request. He had found himself at a loss for what to do recently, feeling his standing with you plateau, “I hope you will forgive the candor of my question, In fact I- I am slightly embarrassed to even be asking you,”

“Go ahead, please. You have helped me so much, I’d be happy to try and help however I can. ” Ino had a growing suspicion as to what could have been the subject of his inquiry.  

“The…barista, what do you think of her?”

Nanami prepared himself for anything that could come next. Ino could laugh at him, Ino could laugh in pity before explaining that it was pathetic for a man of his circumstance to be entertaining the idea of a relationship. Ino could chastise him for reading into the kindness of someone who is actively working customer service. Ino could express his disappointment of not talking about the recommendations. He could call upon Nanami’s embarrassment for his own inexperience with flirtation. Nanami prepared himself to be exposed, shamed and cursed. 

“Oh! So you know she really likes you, I think she seems funny and smart. She’s really pretty, like really beautiful. I like her outfit, and hairstyle.” Ino began just as eager and delighted as he had been when Nanami invited him to lunch.  

“Wait, what do you mean she likes me?” Nanami’s brows inched together, although subtly. 

“Oh! Well, she smiles a lot when you talk and listens really carefully, and she called your name when we got here and…”

“That’s her job, she has to be polite and accommodating.”

“Sure,” Ino nodded, “But she seemed really interested in you, not so much with me. I don't know, I guess, but it just seemed like she liked you” Ino shrugged. 

Nanami was lost in thought as Ino trailed off. Could you really like him? Your encounters were so brief, he was so stilted around you, or at least he felt as much. You were accommodating and kind because you were good at your job, it was only natural that he recognized it as charm. He missed your call of his name, signaling the drinks he and Ino had ordered were ready. 

“I’ll get them!” Ino perked up, standing quickly and heading to the pick up counter. 

You pushed the two fresh drinks forward as the shaggy haired mentee approached the counter. He had the floppy stride of a well trained dog, bouncy and excited as he hurried over. 

“Thank you so much!” He beamed. 

“You’re so welcome, enjoy. Your food should be out soon!” You smiled back. 

“Hey, can I ask?” Takuma leaned in conspiratorially, “does he come in here a lot?”

You couldn't help but indulge the genuine curiosity in his voice, “A few times a week for about two months. How long have you been working with him?”

“About two years.” He answered, “I’m so glad too, he usually never takes someone under his wing like this!” 

You smiled, cocking your head to the side, “So he’s a big deal at work, huh?” 

Takuma nodded, “Oh yeah! He’s focused and hardworking, brave and careful.I hope to be half as skilled as he is one day.”

Your smile grew at the extrapolation. It was praise befitting of the man so dedicated to his work that he could be seeking out coffee at five in the morning at the end of his shift. The younger man nodded and couriered the drinks back over to the table. You thought you saw as Nanami’s eyes flashed over to you, but behind his glasses it was hard to be sure. You smiled all the same, just in case. You returned to your work, Ino and Nanami would both wave goodbye to you with mannered ‘thank you’s’ offered as they left after their meeting. You watched as Nanami held the door over his mentee’s head, ushering him out and looking back over to you. You looked away quickly, and when you looked back he was gone. Your lower lip settled in between your teeth, replaying your memories of him in a flash before returning your attention to the steaming milk whirlpooling in front of you.  

You didn’t see Nanami for three weeks after that. 

You were today’s closer, your shift already dragging far into the afternoon. The morning crowd was tired, desperate, and reliant upon memorized routine above all else. Simple orders, simpler conversations. The evening crowd was far more likely to experiment. They are unpredictable en masse in a way that your morning regulars were not, making it so that you had to be that much more attentive when discussing menu options. Not only that but you also had to clean and secure all parts of the cafe before you could leave. On a usual day this is fine, although a complicated and oft tedious dance, but today it is much worse. Your usual array of alternative milks were on backorder meaning you were running out more and more with every order, with now replacements on their way. Also dwindling in stock were multiple menu items, including both pastries and lunch menu components, flavors, even lids for to-go cups had started to wane faster than anticipated. You recalled a conversation with your manager that ended dismissively about the coming weekend and how poorly you were prepared to do your job effectively. Your concerns had been barely acknowledged at the best and outright discarded at worst. Over the course of the last three hours you had had eyes rolled at you six times, had to remake a drink four times, been asked why your stock was so low ten times, and had to give one full refund to a customer who took it upon himself to reprimand you personally for the lack of options available to him. You tried your best to push through but the orders kept coming, and the wait times grew longer and longer, you weren’t making nearly enough progress. 

“Switch out?” Your coworker offers to you marking your wide, scared eyes gazing at the growing number of tickets. 

“Please.” You nod turning to operate the register instead. 

They nodded taking over at the espresso machine from where you left off. You approached the counter just as a woman stepped forward from the line. 

“Hello! What can I get you?” You smiled brightly. 

“Well, I don't know yet…”She was already frustrated, “I’ll tell you in a minute.” 

She turned her gaze upward to the menu board above your head, rolling her eyes on the ascent. It shouldn’t have, but it brought a hot burn of tears to your eyes. Sure, she was being condescending, but you dealt with far more pointed forms of belittlement on a daily basis. Somehow though, after the day that had already transpired, you had to choke back tears. You felt yourself shut down in order to keep from crying at such a stupid remark. You took her order without incident, asking only the necessary questions and issuing the payment efficiently. Upon retrieval of her receipt she left the counter. The tears were threatening to spill over as you sighed in relief. In an example of the universe’s kindness you saw your coworker approach, indicating to you that it was time for you to take your lunch break. You passed her quickly as she entered the floor, grabbing your bag and rushing out the front door in embarrassment. Or rather, you tried to rush out of the door. As you scrambled toward the threshold you collided with something hard, it felt like you hadn't bothered to open the door at all, study and unmoving. You bounced back, feeling a rattle in your bones as you tried to gather your senses enough to turn your head upwards. Two strong hands gripped you in place. You gazed upon the face above you, looking down with wide, green guarded eyes. 

“Are you alright? I didn’t see you, I’m sorry.” Nanami’s hands moved up your arms to your shoulders. 

You haven't ever seen his face so worried before, eyes carefully studying you, brows furrowed, hands hard on your arms, “I--i--Its been..”

Nanami sees the tears well up in your eyes, brimming and nearly spilling over, “Were you going outside? May I join you?”

You nod and he ushers you out quickly, holding the door before following in stride as you hurry down the sidewalk. He watched as you pulled a pack of cigarettes from your purse, drawing one forward, long and thin, and continued to dig inside the bag, growing more and more frustrated. Nanami pulled his own lighter from his jacket pocket, a pristine silver zippo with the characters of his name engraved at the base. He lit the end for you and watched you savor the first drag. Your eyes closed and your lips plump and pursed around the filter. When you opened your eyes and exhaled you offered him a cigarette from your pack, and he took one. Smoking the same cigarette as you made him feel close to you somehow. He lit it as you plopped down on a smoker’s bench two and a half blocks from the cafe. 

“Bad day?” Nanami asked after a beat or two.  

You groaned in response, resting your head on your hands and your elbows on your knees, cigarette dangling dangerously close to your hair. He nodded, suddenly feeling awkward and ill prepared to comfort you. You had probably left the cafe to be free of customers and work, and here he was following you. Shame rose in his chest as he realized his imposition. All the same, Nanami stood next to you, smoking silently, trying to offer you the space you needed, space he had already intruded on. The wind rushed past the both of you, the coming fall air carrying the cigarette smoke away. It seemed to trigger the raising of your head.

“Do you like your job, Nanami?” 

He was surprised. Not by the suddenness of the question but by the sincerity in your voice, and the defeated look on your face. The tops of your cheeks were wet, your eyelashes damp, the usual casual smile you carried now replaced by a deep frown. The sight tore at his heart, until now you had been a consistent source of joy for him, he never expected to see you in such duress. 

“No. I don’t.” He confessed, it was always relieving to be honest about his distaste for sorcery, he made no effort to conceal how he felt, but when he has to do it every day he finds himself pretending occasionally. 

You nod, understandingly, taking the cigarette between your lips and sliding over, for him to plop into the seat next to you and continue, “Well I love mine. I know it’s silly, it's just coffee. But, I don't know, I like seeing people everyday, talking to them, providing something they can enjoy and indulge in, no matter what happens over the course of the day. Something they can rely on for comfort.”

You shook your head, already starting to chuckle at yourself for how stupid you must sound. Before that feeling could take root, Nanami cut in. 

“It’s important. It isn’t silly at all. These people come to you to provide them with a service they can not provide themselves, something you have spent years perfecting for their benefit. You sustain people with energy, you allow them space to rest and stay cool, you offer a moment of kind conversation in a time when people feel more lonely than ever.” His voice stayed even, almost stern, as he spoke to you. 

You watched his face as he spoke, similarly stoic. He was being overgenerous, far too complimentary of your work in something as brief as a coffee stop. You knew this to be the case, it had to be. But, his words echoed the same romanticism that filled you when you had first started in coffee, you did like the idea of providing for people, you liked having a specialized skill, you genuinely cared when your customers engaged you in conversations or told you their problems, human connection was the main draw of the job. And it was why you loved it. You were able to connect with hundreds of people a day, if only for a moment. 

“What happened today?” He inquired further. 

You sighed, “Not any one thing. Just one of the bad ones. I hate disappointing people, and I disappointed a lot of people today.”

“So what?” He responds flatly, taking a drag of the loaner cigarette.  

You’re shocked, a confused laugh leaves you. 

“So what.” He repeats, “if they are disappointed, then they can get over it. Surely the next time they stop in you will take the great care of them that they are used to.” 

His voice is sincere; as though it’s the most obvious, logical line of thinking available. You wanted to defend how bad you felt, to slip into your habits of valuing the negative outlook rather than compartmentalizing. But you can’t, looking at Nanami, with his kind, intelligent eyes looking right back into yours, you’re struck by the heart of his words. You nod reflectively, considering all the situations today where you could feel the disappointment coming from a customer; each situation would be easily fixable when more resources or corresponding orders came in. You had plenty of experience diffusing situations like this, you would be able to fix them all eventually, and anything you didn’t get the chance to — was out of your hands. 

“Thank you.”

 Nanami watched as the smile returned to your face. Your eyes had dried themselves, your back stood straighter as you finished your cigarette and extinguished against the sole of your shoe. He had smoked much slower than you, he wasn't a frequent smoker anymore, an old habit that lingered from needing quick getaways from his former office, so the nicotine buzz was starting to swirl his head, he noticed a small tremor in one of his legs that he recognized as his limit. 

You tucked the butt of your cigarette into a small outer pocket of your purse. Nanami followed your motions, extinguishing his own and handing the double checked no longer burning butt to you. You tucked it inside the same pocket, holding them there to dispose of properly later in a real trashcan. Smoking was bad enough for the environment, you didn’t need to add litter to the equation. Some silly, overly whimsical part of you treasured the idea that the remnants of his mouth and the remnants of yours were in there together, getting cozy. 

He shared that thought with you, although privately. 

“How long is your break?” Nanami asked, wanting to scrub his mind of the thoughts of the indirect kiss between the two of you occurring in your pocket. 

You reached across his lap and took his left wrist in your hand pulling it over to you. His heart stopped, he didn’t dare breathe, immediately conscious of the smoke on his breath wouldn’t disturb you. You had never touched him before, excluding the collision that brought the two of you out here. Nearly three months of over the counter exchanges without a single instance of contact, broken here, with your warm, soft fingers touching the thin skin on the inside of his wrist. He watched your face as you looked at his watch. 

“About ten minutes left.” You sighed. 

You looked back at him, your hold on his arm had brought him closer, much closer than expected. You still held his wrist, his face couldn’t have been further than eight inches, you had never been at eye level with him before. You could see his face so much closer and clearer, you could see the pores on his cheeks, the discoloration under his eyes from overwork and lack of sleep, you thought you saw some deeper discoloration around the side of his eye, but brushed it off as shadow. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, thin and shapely, a full bottom lip with a soft rosy hue. When you met his eyes again you could see through his glasses, seeing that his eyes were trained on you  just as intently. You felt that familiar stirring and buckling in your chest that had become so synonymous with your feelings of excitement around him. He was so close, so focused on you, you felt intimidated, and observed. You released his rest, back into his lap. 

“Thank you, Nanami. I needed that.” You sighed, looking away from him, trying to break the growing tension between the two of you, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, I promise I'm usually better at this.” 

Nanami shook his head, similarly thankful for the severing of intensity, “don’t apologize, I understand. I’m glad I was here.” 

You took in the sidewalk and the street, the cool early fall air around the pair of you, the weather was perfect. Beautiful sun, chilly air, the smell of coming evening rain. You stood, brushing the back of your pants off for any eager fallen leaves that you had been previously too frustrated to notice. He stood quickly to meet you, adjusting his coat and sleeves to busy himself. You two took another moment to adjust yourselves before locking eyes again. You offered him the kind smile he knew so well. 

“Are you ready to head back?” Nanami cleared his throat. 

You nodded, feeling much more grounded, and grateful for this moment of respite. You walked back together, not needing to exchange words, just simply walking side by side the all too short two blocks back to the cafe’s door. Once you reached the door Nanami stalled. Something in him changed, an aura you hadn’t seen in him before 

“Would it be okay if I came by later today?” He asked, not quite looking at you, but over you and into the cafe behind you. 

“S-sure, of course.” You felt yourself shrinking, the embarrassment of how vulnerable you had just been creeping in in a vignette, shading the moment of connection you had just shared with him. 

Nanami gave a clipped nod, looking around once more before turning his gaze down to you. 

“Okay. I’ll be back here tonight. Take care of yourself.” He nodded once more before turning and heading back down the street, 

“W-wait, did you want your coffee?” Your sentence began as a call but faded into a whisper as you realized he wouldn’t be turning around. 

You watched his silhouette descend the path, turning and disappearing into the city. You weren’t sure exactly what happened, what you had done or what had called him away. But before you could dwell too long you heard the voice of your coworker calling to you, asking you for help back on the cafe floor. You looked once more down the path that Nanami had left down, before returning inside to finish your shift. 

The rest of the day passed as well as it could have, and regardless of how grueling it was moment to moment, the time passed anyway, and once the cafe had cleared itself and the hiss of the open sign was made silent, you found yourself alone. The bakers had completed their prep bakes for the next day, allowing them to cool in the large industrial freezers overnight, the other baristas had swept and mopped before clocking out and returning to their own homes. You stood behind the counter waiting on the espresso machine to complete its last cleaning cycle. Nanami hadn’t come back as he said he would, and while you were alone you didn’t feel like hiding your disappointment. You scanned through what you could have done wrong, everything you said, everything you did, suddenly all felt wrong and overly familiar. You’d scared him off. But scared him off from what, you couldn’t figure out. According to your coworkers, he was flirting, and you knew you were, at least to some degree, however fruitless you considered your efforts. 

You were too bogged down by your spiral to hear the shlucking sound coming from the back. The espresso machine's routine of purging and clicking was too loud for you to hear the store room push itself open. It wasn't until you heard the broken, amalgamated voice calling out that you felt the fear slash itself up your spine. You couldn’t decipher the words, they were too garbled, like that of someone underwater trying to speak to you through an AM radio. The pitch was too high for your ears, and too low to even exist. You stood completely still, no one else should have been able to enter the building, the only unlocked door was the front, large lights and plenty of people making it safer than exiting out the back. Some instinct in you was holding you completely still, restricting you from being able to turn around and see where the sound has come from. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move, the only thing you could think about was your coworker set to open tomorrow, and what ungodly nightmare was she going to have to walk into. Tears fell from your eyes, the wetness of your cheeks snapping you out of your paralysis, your body shaking as you started to turn and face what was coming. 

“Don’t turn around.” Nanami stood in front of you, his usual tan jacket removed, moving his sleeves up his arms, his gaze locked behind you. 

Your breath found you again, chin quivering with fear and relief at the sight of him. 

“Close your eyes.” Nanami’s voice was darker than you had ever heard before.He looked completely different, intense and large and imposing, if you didn’t know him you could have been scared of him, “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Close your eyes.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, immediately missing the comfort the sight of him provided. You heard a thunk, a grunt, a slash, and then nothing. 

“You can open your eyes.” Nanami’s voice came from right behind you. 

You turned around quickly, seeing him standing over a pile of knocked over cups and pitchers, holding what looked like a butcher’s knife wrapped in cow print fabric. His yellow tie that you had grown to admire as a symbol of him was loose around his neck. He was still looking down at the ground. Once he seemed satisfied with whatever it was, he looked back at you. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, sheathing the paddle looking blade on the brown leather holster on his back, you had never noticed it before. 

“What the fuck was that?” You couldn't help the tears that fell from you as your body started to shake harder and harder. 

Nanami put his hands on your shoulders, his grip tight and soothing, “I’m sorry you had to see that. But it’s gone now, I assure you.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you started sobbing falling against his chest. He held you tight against him, letting your tears soil his shirt and your body tremble in his arms as he held you firm. You wept until openly, feeling no shame, there was no room for shame with all the fear and adrenaline vacating your body. He made no move to quiet you or tell you to calm yourself, he simply held you close. 

“Can I take you home?” Nanami asked, his voice resounding from his chest where your ear was pressed. 

You nodded. 

Nanami had started sensing the build up of cursed energy on his last visit before bringing Ino. It was faint enough that he couldn’t place if it was coming within or from the general street. On his subsequent visits he noticed it growing exponentially, building on itself in a way that was inching toward concern. His selfish motives for bringing Ino to the cafe were overshadowed when he picked up on it as well. Confirming Nanami’s suspicion that it was an internal problem, and one growing more and more dangerous by the day. Earlier today was the first time he had noticed its effect in action. You tear stained face, the disgruntled patrons, you fevered, overworked companions. He knew he had to intervene. He had come after closing hoping you had already gone home, hoping to take care of it quietly before it became a larger problem. It wasn’t until he saw you terror-stricken with a low level curse emerging from behind that he conceded he would have to tell you. He didn’t want you to have to experience any of this, you shouldn’t have to face the reality of this world, and the monster’s within it. You deserved the same ignorance as everyone else outside of sorcery. But it was no longer his decision. 

He walked you home, which wasn’t far from the cafe, and up to your apartment. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, he hesitated briefly before following you. These aren't the circumstances he had anticipated for his first foray into your living space, but again, it was out of his hands. 

“You said ‘it's gone now’, what is ‘it’?” You asked as you locked the front door behind you, check the peephole for anything out of order. 

Nanami sighed, “It’s…a lot to explain, most of it would be incomprehensible right away. It would take me hours to make it all make sense. And that isn't a slight against you, it’s because I know you're smart that it would only take that long.”  

Your voice was returning fully, the fear having left itself behind at the cafe, “Nanami, you knew. You knew that whatever it was was there, you…killed it? Drove it away? Would it show up here? Do I need to be worried about this thing coming here?”

“No.” he was quick to shake his head, “It’s dead. Well it wasn’t ever really alive, not really. But you don’t have anything to worry about, anymore. I’m sorry it got that bad.”

“Please just tell me.” You groan, “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

And he believed you. So he told you. 

It took nearly four hours, one and a half pots of coffee, and a few crudely drawn diagrams on the back of a take out menu that he drew. But eventually you understood that what had attempted to attack you was a curse, and that curse had likely been building over a series of months or maybe years before it reached this form. He was a sorcerer, a kind of soldier tasked with the exorcisms of these curses in an intensely guarded organization dedicated to keeping curses secret and the public safe. The young man, Ino, who he had brought with him is a sorcerer as well. He explained the rank of threat, and how yours was incredibly low for any skilled sorcerer, which apparently, he was. He showed you the blade he kept on his back, the one that had been hiding just below his jacket for the entire time you had known him. He explained to you how he was able to kill the curse in a single strike, how his technique worked. When his explanations had been completed you felt strange. Stuffed to the brim with new information, most of which terrified you and made you feel powerless against a threat you could have gone through your whole life without knowing about.  But a part of you felt good, knowing there were people kind enough and skilled enough to make this an insular problem, one that did not necessitate the knowledge of the general populace out of sheer humility. 

“I understand that this must be a lot for you to take in. But, I promise you that what attacked you tonight will never show its face again. I can give you a talisman, something to keep in the cafe to keep it safe from future curse development.” Nanami had taken off his coat and harness, his blade lay on your coffee table alongside his glasses and your purse. 

“Was that why you left so quickly today?” It may have been a silly thing to inquire about in the wake of so much life changing information, but you couldn’t hold your tongue. 

Nanami nodded, “I had to run back to my..boss basically, and get a formal assignment to exorcise the curse. I’m sorry I left. I didn’t want to. When we got back the energy was too strong, I knew I would only have a few hours.” His apologized, setting his nearly complete coffee cup on the table, “But I had to make sure that nothing happened to you,” after a beat he adds, “or your coworkers.”

“So you, you saved my life tonight.” You whispered. 

The front pieces of his hair had fallen out of their usual styling, they now hung in front of his face. Through the sandy strands you met his eyes, looking tired and locked with yours. The faint bruise on his brow suddenly made sense, the bags under his eyes, the serious demeanor, it was all recontextualized. You didn;t stop your hand when it traced your middle finger over a small, well healed scar along his eyebrow. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Nanami conceded, usually not one to accept praise for his work. 

“Nanami you saved me.” Your hand cupped his cheek, “I would be a mess for someone to clean up tomorrow morning if you weren’t there.” 

He was speechless, your hand on his cheek was warming as heat crept to his face. Your eyes were so big and beautiful, your lips looked so soft as they shaped your gratitude. 

“Thank you.” 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Was all he could choke out. 

You had read about this. After near death experiences, or other instances of extreme adrenaline, the body could have all kinds of after effects; nausea, sleeplessness, exhaustion, arousal. The arousal coursing through your body was a natural side effect of what you had just been through, and what was right in front of you. He had been there watching over you, keeping you safe from threats you couldn't even imagine. Every day he returned was another day that he was caring for you, protecting you, trending to you. His skin was smooth and hot under your touch, the hair of his sideburns was soft under your fingers, it felt like every nerve in your body was turned up to a thousand. The quick hatching chrysalis was nearing its emergence, it was so still as you leaned closer to him. 

“You must be tired. I can go, if you need to sleep.” His resolve was faltering. 

“If you aren’t busy, I know it’s been a long night,” Your hand traveled down to his shoulder, the barrier of his shirt helping him regain some sense, “I think I would sleep better if you were here. Just for the night?”

The cock of your head and the flutter of your lashes made your offer clear. Nanami’s cheeks became more pronounced as he tried to swallow down the burning desire to have you right here. But he, too, had read about the aphrodisiac effects of adrenaline. He knew that there was a chance that your gratitude and your exhilaration were converging inside of you to make you feel like you wanted him, when you were actually just happy to be alive. 

He put his hand on your arm, “Sometimes, when someone has been through something like what you have, they may look for…other forms of excitement to help with the adrenaline dump…it’s very natural..”

The back of his neck was hot, his shirt felt too tight, his pants felt much too tight, his mouth was so wet he risked drooling right in front of you. But he couldn’t take advantage of this moment, it would be wrong. He liked you. Ino claims you liked him, but he doesn’t know for sure, it would be deplorable for him to act on this offer without knowing if this is something your right mind wanted. 

“I’ve read that before.” You nodded, looking at his hand wrapped around your forearm, he was so big, “I’ve never experienced a curse before.”

He nodded along with you, still watching your mouth move. 

“But, I’ve experienced attraction before, Nanami. I know what it feels like to want someone. And I want you.” You told him, pulling your legs up under you on the couch.  

A small shake from his head, “It’s just psychosomatic. You’ll feel better in the morning, or after a shower. It’s the adrenaline.”

“I don’t think I had excess adrenaline the morning you came in first. Or the next time, or earlier today outside. Nanami,” You dipped your head down to look up at his, “Nanami, please. I’ve been too scared to say anything, I didn’t want to seem unprofessional or scare you. But, I like you. I really like you, I think you're gorgeous and kind and funny. You’re brave and smooth and a little weird, but I like that.”

He scanned your face for signs of lying, twitching eyes, avoidant eye contact, swallowing, anything that he could rely on to keep himself from getting exactly what he wanted. But he found nothing. Nothing to let him off the hook of being honest about how he felt. 

He let out a heavy breath, his hand on your arm growing tighter, “I fell for you the moment I walked in. Everytime I went back I went for you. To see you. I think you’re so beautiful and charming. I don’t want this to be wrong.”

You shook your head, your hands returning to his face, the one he had on you now moved to the back of your couch, “It’s not wrong. Nothing about this is wrong.”

He grips your hands, looking you right in the eye. You see his pupils have grown wide, you can feel the sweat on his palms, mixing with your own on the backs of your hands. He held you right in front of him, looking over every inch of your face. You were gorgeous, His heart pounded in his chest, like it was reaching for you. He let out a grateful breath. 

“Thank god.” He couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could you. 

The both of you leaned forward in the same moment, meeting at the perfect center of both pursuits to press your lips together. The chrysalis inside of you hatched, the beating of your heart, the flapping of wet, quickly drying butterfly’s wings. He touched your neck, downy hairs at the nape of your neck soft under his fingers. He was quick to pull you by the waist into his lap. His tongue was smooth on its entrance into your mouth, tasting the underside of your own, the backs of your teeth, the coffee you had shared. The kiss was heated and smooth, personal styles learning to blend together. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands in his hair, over the back of the couch, anywhere to offer you stability. Nanami’s hands gripped your waist, sliding under your shirt and feeling the first of the body he dreamed of. Kicking himself in the privacy of his own home for thinking of you so disrespectfully. But in your home, on your couch, with you in his lap, he wanted to worship you. The hands he had cursed for pleasuring himself to the thought of you were not reverent as they felt your hips, your ribs, the sensitive flank inbetween. He could feel your shiver as he made his way back and forth, you were sensitive there. He was toying with you, relishing in your hissing inhales, and your breathy moans. But you were never one to be toyed with, you tested a personal theory of yours, one you had formulated with your hand in your panties on nights when sleep wouldnt come and you looked to your own devices to tucker yourself out. You scratched your nails across the cropped undercut at the back of his neck, gripping and tugging at the hair. Nanami let out a strangled moan underneath you, his hips bucking into yours, and his hands gripping you tighter. Just as soon as his mouth left yours, he found your exposed neck, kissing, practically lapping at the skin there. This pulled the more embarrassingly pitched moans out of you. High whimpers as you keened against him in his lap. 

“You’re so beautiful, you’re so good, fuck.” He peppered his praise in with kisses along the column of your throat. 

You haven't heard him swear before now, the words fell from him so easily. He was clearly practiced, it made you wonder what other sides of him came easily that you hadn’t yet seen. 

“Yu-you are,” You could feel your brain covering itself in honey, the saccharine sweet feeling of him under your, on you, all around you, consuming your ability to think. 

You felt him smile against your skin, pulling off of your neck and sliding his hand around to the back of your neck. 

“I-I don’t do this very often, it’s been a while, please don't tease me too much.” This was the softest you had ever heard him, his voice was breathy and it almost came out as a beg. 

You looked down at him sweetly, his hair mussed across his forehead, buttons of his shirt seeming to have undone themselves, tie falling to either side, his chest flush in splotchy red patches. He looked stunning, the light of your living room you had previously considered unflattering, was golden hour. 

“We can take it slow, if you want.” You offered, wanting to accommodate him, the way he had already for you. 

He shook his head leaning forward and readjusting you on his lap. When he settled you back down you realized the reason for his frantic reaction. The very big reason. The pants tenting, hot, probably leaking, reason. 

You nodded, quick to understand. You leaned forward to kiss him again, making sure to grind yourself down in his lap before pulling off completely and grabbing his hand, tugging him behind you. Nanami felt drunk following you to your room, found himself almost stumbling as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. He crossed the threshold to your bedroom where you had already pulled your work pants off, standing in only a thin tank top and your panties. You approached him with mock disappointment and your bottom lip between your teeth. You moved your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to be the one to take off your shirt,” You cooed. 

Nanami’s hand found the lapels, “I can button it again if y--”

You giggled, “Next time.”

Before pulling him into another deep kiss by his neck. His hands found your hips, eager to slip one finger under the top of the waistband and feel the hidden skin. You slid his shirt down his shoulders, the tie falling along with it. Your lips smacked together over and over as you both tried to touch as much skin as was available to you. You pawed at the hard lines of his back, feeling ridges and valleys and muscles. He, similarly, was quick to find the hemline of your shirt and slip underneath. You both let out a haughty moan as he cupped one of your bare breasts. IF you had had your eyes open, you would have seen his eyes roll back in his head as he slipped his tongue between your lips once again, squeezing the tit in his hand. You freed your arms and pulled the shirt over your head as he undid his belt. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” Nanami gazed over you. 

“You’re gorgeous.” You echoed, hopping on to the bed and watching him pull his grey slacks down his legs. He wore a pair of navy colored briefs that hid almost nothing, especially the nearly black splotch of precum that had accumulated. 

“Fuck, you’re hot.” You marveled at him, his body, the evidence of the effect you had on him, his face, him, all of him. 

Nanami sucked in a quick breath, fighting his embarrassment by looking at the hungry look on your face. You were nearly naked on the bed, waiting for him. You had only your panties on, your chest exposed, nipples once puffy now hardening with excitement. Eyes trained on him, mouth panting and swollen from his kiss. He could see a small bruise forming on the side of your neck, he would apologize in the morning, flowers or breakfast, but for now it was all his to admire. He joined you on the bed, climbing over your body to do so. His torso caged you in completely, wide shoulders shadowing over your frame. He pulled you by your thighs. Taking time to stretch your legs and admire the muscle and skin and fat that made up your gorgeous form. He seemed impressed with your flexibility, at least the little click of his tongue indicated as much. His clothed cock pressed right against your panty clad pussy, both hot and begging to be aligned. He pressed his hips a little as he brought one of your ankles to his lips, kissing the ball, then up the calf. You moaned at the wet kisses, relishing in his affection. He looped his thumbs into your panties, releasing your leg so he could pull them from your legs. Nanami caught your eyes before spreading your legs in front of him, you gave him the go ahead and he sank before you, aligning himself to see your pussy spread open for him. If he wasn't drunk earlier, he was now. Sticky, dripping, gorgeous. He couldn’t hold back, he licked a long, wet stripe up you slit, tasting his first of you. 

Your body was on fire, completely electrified, and weightless underwater all at once. His tongue made its home between your labia, sharp nose being buried in your mound. Your back arched off the bed as a wanton moan left your wet mouth. Your hand flew to his hair, finding a grip for you to cling to. Your other hand held your breast. Nanami’s tongue flicked itself up and down, kissing your clit, drawing out more and more arousal from your dripping hole. 

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He says, soft enough to be just for himself. 

You can't respond, only mewl as he sucks at your clit. You release your breast and grip on to the headboard, accidentally pulling yourself away from him. Nanami grabs your hips and pulls you back onto his tongue. 

“Come back.” He mumbles, again, almost to himself. 

“N-Nanami, i-..”You are cut off by another harsh suck to your clit, his tongue circling inhumanly. 

You were so close, it usually would have taken you much longer to orgasm but the excitement coursing through your body and his skill had turned you to keening, pathetic putty in mere minutes. He flicks his golden eyes up at you, watching you start to unravel. He knows what to do, or rather what not to do, he carries on exactly as he has been, every flick of his tongue pulling you down further. It became too much, and you bubbled over. You cried out in white out pleasure, pulling on his hair. Your legs clapped around his head. He drank up everything you gave, your moans upsettingly muffled by your flesh over his ears. 

When he felt you relax again, he pulled his mouth from you, a thick, gossamer string of spit and cum connecting from his lips to your pussy. The hand from his hair fell to his face, pairing nicely with his blown out eyes and fucked out expression. He caught his breath while looking over your body, your full breasts, your tummy rising and falling as you caught your own. He moved over you once again, kissing you deeply. He tasted like you, his tongue was heavy and hot in your mouth, his hands were fast to rid himself of his underwear and pull your legs over his bare hips. You could feel the length of his cock pressing against your throbbing, overly sensitive cunt. Your outer lips, now much more sensitive from Nanami’s expert work. 

“You’re amazing.” You gasped out against his mouth. 

He hummed pridefully, kissing you again. He grinds his hips hard, hoping to prepare you further for what's to come, but he miscalculated, a rare occurrence. Both of you let out long, glorious moans as he pushes himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. Nanami shudders briefly before gaining his strength back, you dig your nails into his back, but he cant feel anything except the pulsing of your pussy around him. He may never be able to think again, not of anything other than having the hot velvet muscle between your legs tight around his cock. You whimper at his penetration, feeling him press the deepest parts of you. Tip of his cock kissing your cervix, just as passionately as he kissed you. He was not a small man by any measure, and the entirety of his cock probably made up close to eight inches, with the girth to burn as it stretched you open. 

Which he did again, catching your panting lips on his own, quick kisses between caught breaths as you both adjusted to the feeling of being joined together. He pulled his hips back, pulling a shaky moan from you, and pushed in once more. Somehow he reached even deeper than he did before, his cock arching up to press that beautiful, spongy spot inside of you, the spot that made you clit throb and your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Look at me, baby.” Nanami pleaded, “I wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open, a drunken droop to the lids as he thrusted again. He found an even, well paced rhythm. Kissing you occasionally, when one of you wasn't gasping out in bliss. Your hand moves up one of his arms, gripping his taut bicep and his sinewy shoulders. He pressed his forehead to yours, looking down your body to see his pelvis meeting yours. His cock throbbed inside of you at the sight, in turn making your walls grip him tighter. You pull him back to your lips, wanting to be consumed by every sensation he could give you. His hand by your head grips the pillow hard, ripening a hole in the casing. You move your hand up to meet his, holding it and interlocking your fingers. His grip softened instantly, becoming as sweet and generous as ever part of him had been already. You felt him twitch inside of you once more. Followed by a choked moan. 

“I-i, baby I,” Nanami struggled to get his words out as he drove himself further and further into you. 

“Please, Nanami, please.”You held him closer with your thighs, purring out his name. 

“I didn't put on a condom,” He struggled to collect himself, he knew he could be responsible with you, “I should..”

“Dont pull out,” You whine, sounding more pitiful than you intended, “please Nanami, cum inside me, please.” 

He finds your eyes quickly, his heart melting at your big watery pleading eyes. You swollen lips, you drooping, drooling mouth. How could he deny you? Nanami made quick work of chasing his own climax, thrusting harder, fucking faster, holding your body still underneath him. You feel every thrust in your throat. His pace quickens and his thrust become shallow and choppy. Nanami lets out a delicious, languid moan as he cums. You can feel his thick cock depositing load after load of cum into you. An elongated, uninterrupted E sound. He holds you at your hip and when your hand still holds his. His face is now buried in your neck. Your legs are slung over his hips along with your other hand over his shoulder. He thrusts twice more before stalling, having emptied himself, but not yet gathered the desire to pull out. When he finally comes to, he releases your tender hip and pushes himself up from above you, looking down at you. You pant up at him, taking in a post-coital vision of him you never expected, and he, the same. He flushed, sweaty, messy, drool and cum drying on his chin, hairstyle ruined by your grasping. You imagine you looked just as disheveled by half as gorgeous. Nanami, would of course, disagree. He kisses you again, soft and deep. When he finally pulls himself out of you he takes the spot to the right of you in bed. You lie together, allowing your bodies to return to a blissful equilibrium. You roll onto your side, moving a hand over his stomach. 

“So you’ll stay the night?” you gave a sly smile. 

And he laughed. Truly laughed, before kissing you again deeply. 

And he did stay the night. After a quick shower the pair of you returned to bed and slept soundly in each other's arms until he got up before the sunrise to make it back to his apartment with enough time to change before work. He kissed you goodbye and assured you he would come by the cafe. And he did, he met you right at the end of your shift, a bundle of flowers in one arm. He invited you to a home cooked dinner at his place. You were surprised at his determination to make you an established couple, but not even close to put off by it. 

“I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I am about to start a new assignment and it’s shaping up to be a lot of work. I may be indisposed for a few days. I’d really like to see you again before then” He explained as he walked you home. 

“I’d love to,” You giggled, kissing his cheek and admiring the bouquet he had picked out, “Where are you going for your assignment?”

“Shibuya.”

OOOOOOOOOOO SURPISE, anyway hope yall like it and came good. Love you all, thanks for 150 followers. Also im on my barista high horse a little, but just be normal and nice to people, and if you'd tip a bartender, tip a barista. it's the same job. I hope this was worth the wait. I have work in fiv ehours. -Doodle.

[the-pen-pot]

Merthur Fic Ideas & WiPs

So I have a Merlin fic ideas page over on Patreon but obviously I can't link direct to that from AO3. So I'm popping one on here so you all know what's incoming/in the works/rattling around in my brain.

Coming to AO3 September 29th 2024

The Water and the Wilds:

'Magic is as much part of nature as the earth, sea and sky. Other sorcerers who sought out the circle found that their power developed certain affinities. Their abilities became tied to the cycle of the year. There would be one season at which their power was at its peak and another where it lay almost dormant. They became more closely connected to the natural ebb and flow of the world.'

'But?'

'But they were not Emrys. His strength is beyond anything in living memory, and the heights he could reach are, as yet, unknown.' Aglain spread his hands, his shoulders rolling in a graceful shrug. 'I can only tell you that the Tir Na Lei means no harm. Three is the number: the ritual is set. The circle will not call on Emrys again.'

______

In a Camelot where Arthur is king and magic is permitted once more, Merlin's power begins to change. Can he and Arthur overcome the challenges thrown their way, or will their relationship be forever changed by the ordeal?

(Approx 50 k in length, rated E)

If you want to read what else is in-progress, check out below!

Works In Progress

(All drafts are currently available over on Patreon - first chapter free to read. The rest are available to patrons in the $5 tier and up. They WILL become available on AO3 eventually. See bio or pinned post for link if you're interested ♥)

King and Court - 24 chapters currently drafted and available on Patreon - this one will begin updating on AO3 next as it's the one I've written most of.

Summary: Loneliness is an insidious thing. When Merlin looks at Arthur, he sees not just a prince waiting for his time to rule, but a young man struggling to find his place in the world, with little help from anyone else.

The truth is, Arthur needs more than the friendship Merlin can offer. He needs people he can trust: men and women who will become his court and his confidants, and if he is going to survive to take the throne and lead Camelot into its golden age, he needs them sooner rather than later.

Finding loopholes in Uther’s laws is no easy feat. Court life is a dangerous game, but it’s one Merlin has every intention of winning so that Arthur can have knights of his choosing by his side.

And then there is the matter of his magic…

(In my head this is basically entitled *~shenanigans, love and a golden age~*. Canon divergent AU)

Love Is Never Lost - 11 chapters currently drafted and available on Patreon.

Summary: Uther Pendragon has never approved of Arthur’s friendship with Merlin. There had been disappointed sighs and whispered warnings, but Arthur had never thought it would come to this: scars on Merlin’s back and a manservant made hollow and thin by cruelty.

Yet Uther’s efforts to drive a wedge between them instead bring Merlin’s greatest secret to light, and once the wound of secrecy has been purged, their healing brings them closer together than ever before.

Much to Uther Pendragon’s horror.

When Merlin disappears, Arthur is left questioning the true honour of the crown and the value of a kingdom forever stained by his father’s tyranny. Will he answer the call of duty, or will he sacrifice everything to chase the cries of his heart?

Tags will include: magic reveal, corporal punishment, slavery themes (and all that may imply), missing presumed dead, good Morgana, Arthur's POV, slow burn, dreamwalking, happily ever after eventually plus whatever else shows up as I write these!

Sigh No More - 7 chapters drafted on Patreon. This fic is my beloved. My baby. I'm obsessed. Fantasy Age-Of-Sail AU

Summary: Prince Arthur Pendragon, Captain of the Llamrei, would far rather spend his days patrolling Camelot's Waters than assume his place on the throne. Yet when he finds the wreckage of a vast ship and one lone survivor on board, nothing can prepare him for the path his life will lead.

Nor the demands his heart will make.

Hiraeth Ideas

Additions to the Hiraeth universe ideas : Just some little bulletpoints to remind me about things I would love to add to the Hiraeth verse once it's actually done.

Gwaine vs. a lemon

Merlin gets flu (my biologist heart wants to explore Merlin's immune system vs. Camelot germs plus no modern drugs. Excellent hurt/comfort opportunity - not that Hiraeth really needs more of that.)

Merlin "tormenting" Arthur via the bond (Explicit,  definitely)

Merlin shows Arthur (and others?) modern London.

The knights of Camelot at the zoo (sort of)

Maps/globes/celestial bodies knowledge

💀 Agravaine 💀

The one with the eclipse (some king and his sorcerer are trying to show off said sorcerer's power. There just so happens to be an eclipse.They know what it is so Merlin cannot claim credit, but he totally fucks with them anyway.)

Non-Hiraeth ideas

Magic Reveal Via Time-Travel  (Added June 2024)

Merlin and the knights get themselves into some kind of dire situation. Merlin, in a panic and realising he's not strong or knowledgable enough to save them, pretty much demands that the universe in general sends someone who can help.

What actually happens is he gets flung five years into the future, and his future self (who is more capable, among other things) takes his place. He sorts out the dire situation, whatever it may be, and that leaves Arthur and the others with future!Merlin, who is not only very magically capable but 100% their Merlin with lots more confidence, as irreverent as ever, and unmistakably thrumming with magic. They can all feel it, because Merlin makes no effort to hide.

More to the point future!Merlin remembers this from the other side, when he was younger and the same thing happened. He knows this is when the others find out about his magic, and he is able to answer their questions and emotional responses calmly and rationally, because he already knows Arthur isn't going to kill him or hate him or anything.

(Quite the opposite, in fact, since he's having to hide the fact that Arthur's ring is currently gleaming on his finger. He is grateful, at least, that he wasn't a. Pulled naked out of the bath for this magical meeting or b. wearing his crown, which would have been hard to explain without breaking Arthur's tiny brain.)

Meanwhile, young!Merlin is in Camelot, five years in the future, and Arthur and the others are a bit older, a (very little bit) wiser, and are also doing a brilliant job of calming him down and letting him know everything will be all right. And actually showing him the golden age they achieve -- that it's not impossible and out of reach.

Possibly a long four parter from young!Merlin, young!Arthur, older!Merlin and older!Arthur's points of view. Assuming I can write it without being confusing 🤣

Merlin's Voice - possibly a bit dark

My desire to put Merlin inhurt/comfort situations knows no bounds, but this one actually stems from the fact that Merlin doesn't remember the hug after he's been missing in Servant of Two masters and I'm weak for Arthur being a worried angsty little lamb about his missing manservant.

I'd probably go AU and make Morgana good, with Merlin's magic being known, and just have Morgause basically taking Morgana's place, except she and Agravaine are trying to get information about Camelot's weaknesses, and who better to lean on than Arthur's idiot manservant.

Cue Merlin being missing for days, Arthur panicking, Agravaine being dismissive as usual, and Morgause growing increasingly frustrated at the fact that she cannot get anything of note out of Merlin.

In the end, she tries a spell to force him to speak, except that Merlin is so fiercely determined not to betray Camelot and Arthur that his own magic takes the spell and twists it, forging it into a spell of silence instead.

Morgause gets cruel in her frustration, but eventually, Merlin manages to escape and head back for Camelot. It's no easy journey, and more to the point, the spell silencing him will not come off. No matter how hard he tries. He was so determined not to say anything that his magic went overboard in an effort to meet his intent.

I want to write that hug so Merlin remembers it. I want to have Arthur initially teasing about the silence but getting increasinlgy distressed by it. I want the realisation that Merlin is so incredibly expressive that the others rarely need him to write what he wants to say, they can get the gist of it from just a look.

It's one of those ones with ~vibes~  I want to explore, but I have no idea how it ends.

The "Back To The Start" One

So I made this post on Tumblr and it did numbers (I was thinking 4 people would "hell yes" me, not 2000 +)

"Not me sitting here thinking about writing a fic where we start with Arthur dying in Merlin's arms after Camlaan and it's all tragedy and then the magic rises and they both end up back at that first day, in the marketplace, Merlin with "How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?" dying on his lips as they stare at each other, fascinated, horrified, so fucking relieved because they both remember ALL of it and none of it's happened yet and this time they can maybe make it to a different, better ending.

And they can do it together."

BUT TO EXPAND

I want to explore how Arthur and Merlin would interact with each other having lived in one another's pockets for ten years, only to be sent right back to the beginning, while retaining everything they are to each other. Merlin's magic newly revealed from the confession by the lakeside. The two of them standing there with every mistake in their future rather than their past and realising that maybe "two sides of the same coin" means "you need to work together, dumbass".

I want the two of them shocked by how young the other is. How different Camelot seems from what they're used to. How harsh Uther looks now that they know it can be different (though not as different as it should be, Arthur realises.) I want them correcting their mistakes (and each other's mistakes) and taking all that they know of each other and rebuilding their relationship (all their relationships, actually) on that honesty.

And the others don't remember. Morgana is still Morgana, still struggling, but still hoping to be saved. Mordred's just a boy.  Lancelot never sacrificed himself and it's so clear in Arthur's eyes that Gwen loved them both but that she loved Lancelot first and in a different way.

The knights end up at Camelot earlier simply because Arthur and Merlin set out to find them earlier. 

("We need Gwaine." "Do we? Really?" "Yes, you great prat. Come on.")

And so much more.

The "Fake Favourite" One 

This is basically me having a desperate urge to write all the political whatevers of Arthur taking Merlin as a favourite, smashed together with a fake dating AU.

Basic premise is simple: in an effort to avoid the latest princess eyeing up his hand for marriage (and with Uther's blessing, because it suits him for now to put off marrying Arthur to someone) Arthur decides that he will pretend Merlin is his lover and favourite. They spend all their time together anyway, and half the court rumour already appears to think they sleep together, so it will hardly be any change to either of them.

Except all Arthur has to do is say the words to make it happen, but there's a lot more to being a favourite than that. Merlin can't continue to serve him, and then there's the whole situation of a new wardrobe (which Merlin and his magic both fight against) the political wheeling and dealing that comes with a servant being elevated in status, not to mention the subtle ways in which the court first tries to manipulate Merlin, and then is manipulated by him in turn (for the good of Camelot)

What starts out as Arthur aggressively but jokingly courting Merlin (because Merlin said he was bad at it) ends up much closer to *actual* courting.

And no, Merlin cannot sleep in the antechamber, because the chambermaids will notice they're not sharing a bed.

(This basically would end up being a story about Merlin no longer being a servant but becoming a valued member of the court almost by accident (but being very good at it) and the two fools falling helplessly in love with each other while they pretend to be lovers.)

Morgana, Gwen and the knights would be placing ridiculous bets and generally watching it all with disbelieving horror and delight because only these two idiots could make falling in love so complicated.

The "Stuck In Close Quarters" One 

Merlin and Arthur trapped underground in VERY close proximity (like lying on top of each other) and running out of air and Merlin’s magic is too weak (thanks to a battle maybe) to get them out but he can replenish the air but there is no way Arthur won’t notice.

Cue a magic reveal in close quarters and love confessions.

The Horn of Cathbad one

Merlin dies and due to some glitchiness with his magic, he doesn’t immediately come back. Instead, Arthur, in the freshness of his grief, reaches for magic.

He uses the Horn of Cathbhad to see Merlin again, knowing that if he summons Merlin’s ghost and looks back, then Merlin will stay. (Maybe Gaius warns him - but he doesn’t take it as a warning, but a blessing.)

And Merlin answers, and Arthur doesn’t dismiss his ghost. There are ghostly shenanigans and while it’s not the same as having his friend back, it helps. He doesn’t really have to grieve.

Except that Merlin’s spirit starts to become restless and angry, and it reaches the point where Merlin is *begging* Arthur to let him go. He doesn’t know about his immortality but something is pulling at him.

And Arthur finds the strength to let him go and it’s like losing him all over again.

And then, of course, Merlin comes back ❤️

Blind Merlin One

Arthur and co. suspect Merlin has magic but haven't spoken of it to him yet. While out on patrol, Merlin takes a curse meant for Arthur, one that effectively blinds him until "you see the truth". Arthur thinks it's about the magic and it dredges all that out into the open, but the curse doesn't leave. Merlin quickly adapts to using magic to "see" (in a manner of speaking) and keeps his eyes covered to hide their glow.

Of course, Arthur's threatened about Merlin's vulnerability and baffled about the curse etc. It turns out that the truth they need to see is how they feel for each other. Angst/hurt/comfort/fluff because I can.

Omegaverse One (Maybe a series? Sort of tempted to try out some MPreg)

Well off my normal beaten path, but I keep what-iffing it so I'm writing it down here (and will totally draw on some of the mechanics and plot points of Gilded Cage)

Not all magic users are Omegas, but all Omegas have magic, which means Merlin has more than one secret to keep, and he keeps it well. It "helps" that when he presented in Ealdor, one of the Alphas in the village attacked and bit him, forming enough of a bond to stabilise his biochemistry before he managed to escape. It was that incident that pushed him and Hunith into making him go to Camelot.

Merlin successfully hides what he is for years, thinking he's safe, but the Alpha who bit him never stops looking for him. The Alpha eventually tracks him down, threatens Merlin etc., but gets killed in a tavern brawl before he can make good on his threats. That, in turn, breaks the bond that's been keeping Merlin stable and able to pass, in general, as a beta.

Cue it all going a little bit to hell because Arthur thought he knew everything about Merlin and it turns out he really didn't, and now his irritating and attractive beta manservant who always smelled good is an irritating, attractive, sorcerous omega manservant who smells amazing... etc.

(and maybe this one sounded a lot better in my head? There's a whole heap of nuance I'm not putting down - but it's a possible future Merlin fic.)

Different curse fic

A sorcerer curses Arthur with magic in order to make the Pendragon heir everything that the king hates. He wants to see if he is a hypocrite who will spare his sorcerous son, or a tyrant who will damn the ties of blood and execute him.

Cue Arthur frantically trying to hide the fact that he has magic from everyone, including Merlin, except that's fantastically unsuccessful because Merlin has magic, knows magic, *is* magic.

Then you've got Merlin desperately trying to hide the fact that Arthur had magic from the court while concealing that *he* has magic from Arthur. He very small and tired and stressed about it.

But the upshot is that Arthur has a better understanding of magic - how it is not, in itself, bad or corrupt - and because his magic has no chill and absolutely adores Merlin it acts as the pivotal point that brings out all their secrets (and desire)

The Lancelot and a dead body one -probably shortish.

This is more a scene that anything, but I keep thinking of how to expand it a bit better (I did a text chat thing on tumblr about this plot bunny I need to write it one day)

Arthur and all the knights are in an antechamber off the armoury after an evening training session. The door is ajar. They hear Lancelot come in and Gwaine's about to call out to him when Merlin stumbles through the door.

'I need your help burying a body!'

And Lancelot doesn't squawk or demand answers but just says, in a "so done with this shit" voice: 'Again?'

Meanwhile Arthur and the others are like "What the hell?" and follow Merlin and Lancelot out towards the border of the Darkling Woods where there is a huge and very dead monster just.... lying there.

Then we have Merlin making desperate and really bad excuses, which Arthur would be more willing to pretend he believed if Merlin wasn't bloodied and swaying where he stood and also had flowers blooming around his feet, because Merlin used a lot of magic to take this thing down and it's kind of leaking a bit.

And then we go on from there with the knights spending all night trying to dig a big enough hole and asking questions and all that, and Merlin being too tired and beaten up to really put them off - and then I end it somehow. (I did say this was just a scene!)

[copperbadge]

Endeavor OTC game for ADHD

antidoteforreality

is it really different from a standard FPS game? I’m curious about it!

Hope it's okay that I popped this into its own post, I found I had a lot to say :D

Context from the earlier post: EndeavorOTC is a paid app based on EndeavorRX, which is a prescription game for kids with ADHD. RX is FDA-approved; OTC is the version that hasn't gone through FDA approval, but it's a fork of the same code. It's fairly repetitive but that's because it's a training module shaped like a game, not a game that happens to do training.

It's less of an FPS and more of an infinite runner, like Sonic Dash or Temple Run. You're in a little ship that flies along a waterway, and you're supposed to hit "energy fields" which help you speed up to catch a critter you're chasing. You can't control your speed; you tilt your device to swerve left or right to hit the energy fields, but that's it. This is the "Steering" skill.

Your other, simultaneous task is to shoot critters that jump out of the water at you, called "targeting". It's a misnomer since you don't tap ON the creatures, you just tap anywhere on the right side of the screen and it shoots them for you, no aim required. These critters come in three colors, and at the start of every mission they tell you only ONE color to shoot. If you shoot the wrong color or miss an energy field while steering, you slow down very slightly. The goal is to speed up so fast that you catch the critter you're chasing, which is, to be fair, quite challenging.

You aren't ever penalized, really; the critter sometimes gets away, but you get points for trying. You don't have "lives", but you are time-limited -- once you've played for 25 minutes (a "dose"), the game locks down for the rest of the day. Something I REALLY like is that once you've paid the subscription price there's nothing else to buy: no ads to watch for bonuses, no microtransactions, no loot crates. You can earn coin to buy different outfits for your avatar, but that's it, and you can't buy coin, you just get a set amount per day for completing the dose. Every 15 missions or so, your ability to steer-target is evaluated and your score adjusted, which lets you know how you're progressing in terms of treatment, rather than skill at the game. You're supposed to play at least five days a week for six weeks as an initial treatment.

The reason I was willing to give it a shot was that the "targeting" aspect is based on the Go/No-Go Task, which is a legit tool they use in ADHD testing, and the aspect of the test I bombed the hardest when I was evaluated. Ongoing Go/No-Go task training has been shown in some research to help emotional regulation, although it's cognitive and not mindfulness. Overall the game is meant to improve focus but it was the Go/No-Go aspect that I found most compelling as a reason to try.

It's not cheap; you can get a 7-day trial but only if you pre-emptively subscribe, and if you don't cancel the subscription at the end of the 7 days you are charged $130, which I admit is a sneaky move to pull on a population not known for remembering to cancel subscriptions. The first thing I did after signing up was go to google play and cancel the subscription -- I still got to keep the trial -- but honestly when my trial is up I'll probably subscribe, it's a fun little game and I'm willing to risk the money to see if it helps (but I'm also in a position to spend $130 "just to see"). You can also do month-to-month for $25 but obviously the $130 yearly sub is much cheaper in the long run.

I've seen a wide variety of reactions to it, from delight to frustration, although a lot of the frustration seems to be from people who are more accustomed to intense gaming and are treating it like a video game and not a training tool. I'll keep you guys posted on how it goes.

[hisunshiine]

—i kiss your waist and ease your mind [6/7]

Part 6 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️rating: M 🗓️wc: 6,323 + text message 🗓️warnings: angst, mentions of Gwangju Uprising, casualties from the Uprising, hospitals, argument, hurt feelings, minor character death, grief explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, creampie, grief/comfort sex?   🗓️an 0.5: WELL, THE POST WAS ACCIDENTALLY DELETED AND ONLY SHOWS IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS, SO I HAD TO RE-UPLOAD. 🗓️an: well, well, well…back again for some pain, are you? I would apologize for how this ends, but it’s necessary for the set up of the final day of the week, and truly, I think it makes the final day that much more better if we have to hurt a little bit more, right? Thank you for reading, and again, I appreciate my beta readers for all of their help!   🗓️summary: “i kiss your waist and ease your mind.” The only thing that could make you feel better is the same thing that made you feel worse. You and Jungkook are both confused with your emotions, but two different stories help you both see a bit more clearly. The only problem is that when the two of you get around each other, clarity goes bye-bye. don’t let these soft lyrics fool you; make up sex doesn’t actually solve any issues if sex is the only communication that happens.  

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype @kookslastbutton @taebangtanbabe @bbtsficrecs @jk97bam it’s not letting me tag you (if joining the taglist, please think about reblogging with tags/leaving feedback!)

Last night could not have been any worse for Jungkook—well, he’s sure it could have—but luckily the worst that could’ve been, had not come to be. Today, however, is proving itself to be a challenge in its own right. Jungkook knew he had to work early in the morning, but was alright with going out last night because he was with you. 

Last night honestly had been turning into a great night—the way you had silently laid your claim to him at the club, possessive of him in a healthy way—Jungkook thought things were progressing in the right direction. And clearly, you did, too. Hell, he knew he was all over you last night. Knew that he was taking a huge risk in advancing the relationship past friends with benefits when he threw all caution out the window to kiss you like that in front of your friends, but at the time, Jungkook didn’t care. 

And now? Well, that would be a different story, seeing as now that several people know that you’re the one he’s been fucking every night, they might all think something more should come from this situation. Jungkook doesn’t know what to tell them if they ask, and he’s been avoiding Jimin every chance he gets during his shift so far, because he doesn’t really know what to say. He walks to the nurses station to grab his oversized water bottle, drinking several large gulps before being interrupted. 

“Jeon, we have a case that’s just moved over to us, can you help?” Park Soo-hyun, the head nurse for the shift, asks him. As he lowers the semi-transparent canister, he takes in her cotton candy pink hair, which is mussed in a few places; the corners of her eyes are pinched with stress.

“Yeah, no problem.” Jungkook sets the bottle back on the shelf, and follows the shorter Nurse Park down the hallway to the right of the nurses station and watches as she pauses at the elevators to press the call button. Jungkook slows his walk and raises an eyebrow at his fellow nurse. 

“Sorry, we need the help on another unit,” she shrugs, elbow extending her arm to pass Jungkook a slim tablet with the patient's info pulled up. 

“Honestly, that’s perfect.” Escaping to a different floor means almost zero percent chance of Jungkook running into Jimin, so he strolls into the elevator with no regrets. 

Jungkook scrolls past the general information to see just exactly what he’s dealing with as the metal carriage rises. 

His heart breaks a little when he sees that this case is a hospice care one—a focus on the quality of life at the end of it. He follows Nurse Park, barely noticing as he puts one foot after the other, approaching the room. There are several acronyms listed in bold to the left of the door. This clues him into the fact that the goal has shifted from treatment care to comfort. 

Jungkook sees a sleeping, elderly woman in the hospital bed closest to the window, her grey hair pulled away from her face in a short ponytail. Next to her side is a similarly (he assumes) aged man, holding her wrinkled hand in his own. It is a sight that tugs at Jungkook’s heart; he doesn’t usually struggle with the elderly, just small children who end up in this unit, but with how he’s currently feeling about you, he thinks it's impacting him more than he’s used to. 

“Mr. Kim? This is Nurse Jeon. He’ll be with you and your wife for most of today,” Soo-Hyun says kindly as she pats Jungkook’s back in a motherly nature. “Please let him know if you need anything, okay?” She passes Jungkook a small phone, which he pockets, and leaves him in the sunlit room. He steps closer, pulling up the doctor’s chair to sit; a small, rolling, cushioned stool in hospital green. He glances at their names on the whiteboard. Patient: Jung Min-Ji, Spouse: Kim Tae-Woo.

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jungkook starts, voice gentle and quiet so as not to disturb the sleeping woman.

“Hello,” Mr. Kim replies, voice weathered with time and wisdom. “We’re okay, son, you don’t need to sit with this old man.”

Jungkook is no stranger to the phrases the older generation tend to say when in this position. The feelings of being a burden on the hospital staff, guilt for brief thoughts blaming their loved one for being in this position, grief that they could possibly lose their loved one—they’re all valid emotions, and a lot for a person to bear. Especially an elderly man who appears to be carrying this weight alone. Instead of responding to his statement, Jungkook changes the topic. “How did the two of you meet?”

The man’s eyes sparkle to life as he looks at Jungkook’s eager face. “Oh, we’ve known each other since we were kids. She was the most beautiful girl in the village, and I was just some dumb kid who followed her around like a puppy. She’s older than me, you see, and I was the annoying little brother of her best friend.” He smiles fondly at her sleeping form, and Jungkook feels his chest grow tight. “She used to hate my guts. My friends and I would terrorize her and her friends, pull their ponytails, leave frogs in their backpacks, all the terrible things thirteen-year-old boys would do to pretty girls they were afraid to talk to.”

“No wonder she hated you, Mr. Kim!” Jungkook laughs. “I’m guessing you finally stopped tormenting her if she ended up married to you?” Jungkook points out.

“Yes, yes.” The man chortles fondly as he reminisces. “I finally grew up, and realized that treating her badly was not the way to her heart. A little too late, though. She ended up married to some other punk in the neighborhood. He wisened up a little faster than I did, told her how he felt one winter, and they were married by the time the cherry blossoms bloomed.” He sighs, and Jungkook tilts his head, questioning. “Oh, I was distraught. I couldn’t do anything about it, though, I realized that I missed my chance, busy playing games. I ended up married to one of her friends, and well, we spent the next fifteen years circling each other.”

“Wow, that must’ve been hard to deal with.” Jungkook can’t imagine being in his shoes. Or well, he can, but he doesn’t want to imagine that future for himself. Doesn’t want to see a future where he stands in suit and tie to take wedding photos, and it’s not you next to him in them.

“Oh, I loved her enough, my ex-wife, but I think she always knew deep down that she wasn’t…she wasn’t Min-Ji.” Jungkook can see his hand tighten imperceptibly around his wife’s frail one. “We never had kids, and when I came home from work one day to find her waiting with her things packed...I think I always knew that day would come.”

“So, how did you end up winning over Min-Ji?” Jungkook is intrigued by the man’s story. He doesn’t know what he would do in this situation.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it that. She was thirty-two with a new-born daughter, and left a widow after the Gwangju Uprising. Her husband was one of the many lost that summer. I was freshly twenty-eight, newly single, with an empty house, and still in love with her. I stepped up as her friend, offering her and her daughter a place to live and slowly we became a family. I asked her to marry me a couple years later and she said yes.” Kim Tae-Woo’s eyes water, and even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook can see the love he has for the woman in front of him. 

“That’s an amazing story, Mr. Kim. I’m glad you found each other.”

“Oh, me too. She’s given me everything I never knew I wanted. Three children and the best forty-three years of my life. She’s my everything.” He turns back to Jungkook, a look on his face that he can’t read. “Do you have someone, Nurse Jeon? Someone you love more than your own life?”

The question throws Jungkook for a loop, because the whole time his patient’s spouse was telling their story, there was only one person who crossed his mind. You. He hesitates to answer, but Mr. Kim was honest with him, and Jungkook is sure that he can be vulnerable with this man, too. 

“Yeah, I think I do.”

—————

“Stop staring at your phone and moping, oh my god.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at your mood, whispering to Leah about how you’re the rain cloud following them around, ready to ruin the wedding tomorrow. 

You glance at the message one last time before locking your phone and stuffing it into your hoodie’s front pocket. 

You hate that you and Jungkook ended the night like you did, even more that he didn’t text you his usual morning text. The thumbs-up emoji haunted your dreams last night, and you barely slept, waking up throughout the night. The bags under your eyes reflect the nightmares, a fact your annoying little brother enjoyed pointing out when they picked you up at 10 AM.

-10 am flashback

“Shush Yoongi!” Leah berated him gently, “need I remind you how you looked after our almost break-up?”

“Hey! I thought we promised never to bring that up again!” Yoongi pouted the whole trip to the wedding venue for the final review of the plans. 

-end

You sit back in the chair, your head facing away from the floor-to-ceiling window of the wedding venue, wishing not for the first (or even second) time that things had gone down differently last night. Sorting through all of your feelings is a lot harder than you thought it would be. Especially with your brother’s looming nuptials while seated in a decorated wedding hall. 

“I’m not moping, jackass.” You pick at non-existent lint on the sleeve of your hoodie before tilting your head back and allowing the hood to fall off. “I just don’t know what to do with myself.”

“We’re almost done. Leah is just dropping off the last of the checks for the vendors, and we are running through the ‘Day-Of’ itinerary one last time with the planner. Then we can grab some lunch, and you can fill us in on the troubles running through that head of yours.”

“Sushi?” You make your eyes big and pout your bottom lip as you turn your head to look your brother in the face. He looks good; his hair is freshly done with an undercut cropped close to his head and the top layers falling in organized, chaotic layers. He has a healthy glow about him that screams ‘happy and in love’, that makes you feel wisps of green envy. His face breaks out into a smile, eyes disappearing in delight. 

“Of course, princess. Whatever you want, if it means you’ll be in a better mood.”

Hearing Yoongi call you ‘princess’ reminds you of Jungkook, and you turn away again, hiding your crestfallen look as Leah walks back into the room with the wedding planner. Yoongi leaves you to join his soon-to-be wife’s side, shaking hands with the wedding planner as they bid her goodbye and motion for you to meet them at the exit. 

Finally supplied with sustenance, you feel a little better as you chew and swallow the tempura-fried shrimp drizzled in spicy aioli sauce. Though that feeling dissipates a bit when Yoongi sets a deliberate gaze on you. 

“Spill it. I know you're moping about Jungkook, but what happened? Do I have to kill him?” he attempts to make you smile, but the joke falls flat with you today. 

“To be honest, it all happened really fast. One second we were good, really good. And then he just kind of shut down and called me a taxi and kicked me out at like 2 AM.”

“Wait, that dickhead kicked you out at 2 AM? I should fucking kill him! What if something had happened to you?” Yoongi’s ears are red and his eyes glint in anger. Leah reaches out a hand to soothe him as you speak quickly to do the same.

“Nothing happened to me. I’m a big girl, Yoongi. I’m pretty sure I said some hurtful things to him, and if the situation was reversed, I would’ve asked him to leave, too. If I had been a little more sober, I probably would’ve left on my own volition instead of getting into an argument.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Leah cuts in tentatively, “you do like Jungkook, right? Like not just as a friend?”

Your face says everything your mouth won’t as you shift in your seat. Leah nods knowingly, and Yoongi takes a deep breath. 

“Okay. You’ve already told Mom and Dad that you’re dating him or whatever, so what’s holding you back from taking that step with him if you like him so much?”

It takes everything in you to not cut your eyes at him. You see Leah cover her mouth; the mirth there doesn’t match the situation, but she can’t help but feel like her very smart and emotionally aware fiance is missing some important social factors. You don’t blame her for the smile, in fact, you welcome it, knowing full well that she gets it.

“What’s holding me back? Maybe that conversation with Mom earlier this week, where she nagged at me for being single and not giving her grandkids, and then when I told her I was seeing someone, she ridiculed Jungkook’s age? Or how about the fact that the stupid goth art teacher talked shit about how young Jungkook was?” You shake your head, defeated. “Everyone judges the relationship between me and Jungkook, before it’s even a relationship. So what happens when it is real?”

“What changed?” Leah’s brows are furrowed, and you can see her mind sorting through the information you’ve given, or lack thereof. “Something must have happened to make what you had going no longer work for either of you, right?”

You decide to trust them both and tell the truth of what happened.

“So after we left the club, we went back to his place since it was late. Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok are now fully aware that there’s something between me and Jungkook because he wasn’t exactly subtle. To be fair, I didn’t stop him either, so I guess if I’m being honest, we weren’t exactly subtle. We get back to his place, and it’s business as usual.” Yoongi grimaces as he reaches for his whiskey, downing the entire thing as you skim most of the sex, though a memory surfaces as you let the night replay in your mind. 

“Oh god!” You slap your hands to your face, covering your mouth. “I just remembered…I kind of let slip that I loved him while having sex,” you mumble into your hands, head dropping down in embarrassment. “And then right afterwards he’s receiving a ‘you up?’ text from SoHee—with a fucking topless picture!—and I just lost it. There was an argument, which I honestly can barely remember what was said. We were both so mad, you know?”

“Wow, no wonder you were mad. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything about your confession,” Leah questions, validating your feelings in a way that warms your heart. You definitely think you and your new sister-in-law (as of tomorrow) will get along great.

“No, he didn’t. And it’s not even that he has to say it back or anything, I didn’t say it for that reason, but the fact that we just had—”

“Please don’t say it again!” Yoongi interrupts.

“I wasn’t! Anyways, the fact that we just had such an intimate moment happen, and here comes SoHee texting Jungkook her perky tits asking if he’s awake? I know a booty call text when I see one.” 

“Wait, but you just said SoHee texted it to Jungkook, right?” Yoongi sits back, a quizzical look on his face. “So, he got a text from SoHee and you got jealous. But I’m gonna be that person right now and point out to you that technically, you and Jungkook aren’t together.”

“Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “Anyways, we were in the bathroom,” you think back through the specifics. “His phone went off, and he set it down to dry my hair, and then it went off again. The message lit up his phone, so I saw the text from SoHee.”

“Sis, you know I love you, but I think you’re jumping to conclusions. It sounds like Jungkook was just the recipient of the messages, not necessarily the instigator. Guys can receive unsolicited tit pics just as much as women get dick pics. People just think all men are horny 24/7, but we also can feel uncomfortable in these situations. If we’re at work or start dating someone new, and an old flame sends us a ‘you up’ text or sends nudes? Not to mention, sometimes we just aren’t attracted to the people sending us stuff. It causes issues no one asked for.” 

Yoongi’s eyes show no malice as he speaks a truth you’re upset with yourself for not realizing in that drunken stupor, or even in the light of today. “Jungkook’s hot, you know? He could’ve just been the recipient of unsolicited nudes. He might actually get quite a few that he ignores, because that man is high-key in love with you.” 

“Honestly, I’ve seen you and Jungkook together, and I agree. Who cares what other people think, especially the ones who don’t know either of you well enough and shouldn’t matter enough to sway your happiness with each other.” Leah looks at Yoongi, and he takes her hand gently. “This wedding tomorrow will not be my first one, but it’s the one that matters the most to me. Your brother loves me on a level that I never knew was possible, thanks to my ex, and though our age gap isn’t as big as yours with Jungkook, I’m still older than him. Both of these are things your mom took issue with, but you know your brother.” She looks over to him with a fondness you understand. It’s how you look at Jungkook. “The only thing that matters is what you and Jungkook want. I know it’s not easy, but it’s infinitely worth it.”

By the time Jungkook finishes a sponge-bath and documents the care Min-Ji received during this time, he realizes it’s past the typical lunch time and that the husband has yet to eat. The three children he mentioned live on the other side of the country, but are traveling now to be with their parents. He had hoped they would arrive earlier with the promised food Mr. Kim is waiting for, but Jungkook insists he get something to hold the man over for the time being. He reminds him of which buttons to press to contact the phone in Jungkook’s pocket, then heads to the canteen.

The employees share the cafeteria area with the visiting families of patients, and it is bustling quite a bit as Jungkook exits the elevators straight into the lobby of the cafe. To the left, the room extends into a seating area once past the cashier lines, and Jungkook sees the moment SoHee spots him through the crowd. 

He’s tired of hiding from people—tired of hiding from his feelings, really—so he decides not to run away this time. If SoHee decides to talk about the messages she sent last night, he will address it and let her down easily. They’re still friends, in Jungkook’s mind, so he smiles at her as she approaches him, soft pink scrubs swishing lightly from her quick steps.

“I am so excited about the wedding tomorrow!”

Jungkook can tell; her smile is glowing. Once upon a time, he might’ve been enthralled by it, it’s still a beautiful smile, and it sucks to know that he might be the reason it fades in a few moments.

“Yeah, me too. I actually wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Yes, that’s why I came over here, in fact, so we could finish coordinating and—”

“SoHee, wait.” Jungkook knows he’s being rude, cutting her off, but the longer she stands there, grinning up at him like that, the more his chest feels tight. “I can’t be your date for the wedding.”

As he predicted, the rosy apples of SoHee’s cheeks lower along with her smile as she processes his words.

“I don’t think I understand?” She's polite as she speaks, head quirked to the side as if showcasing her confusion, but Jungkook is no fool to the glint of a woman’s eye as she braces for battle. 

“I know that it took me a lot longer than I promised to get back to you about this, but I’ve only just figured things out myself, and I just don’t want to string you along.”

“What have you been doing then, if not stringing me along?” SoHee crosses her arms across her chest, stance shifting to one of defensiveness. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Jungkook, but from my point of view, it kind of seems like you’ve been doing exactly what you claim you don’t want to do.”

Jungkook sighs, restraining himself from rolling his eyes at her words and tone. He can’t help but feel that SoHee is being a bit dramatic—it’s not like he was the one who started all this wedding date talk, and he never even agreed to be her date! He did put off turning her down, but she’s the one who texted him to say he didn’t need to feel obligated to take her. And then she sends nudes and a booty-call text message at the worst possible moment last night and wants to get mad at him?

“Look, SoHee, I know that you probably feel like I’m the bad guy in this, but—”

“You’re an asshole, Jungkook.” SoHee’s voice carries a little too well, and other nurses standing nearby tune into the conversation. He really hates public confrontation like this, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong, and yet, here he is dealing with this bullshit.

Jungkook doesn’t mean the words he says in the way that they come out, but he feels cornered. “What do you want me to say, SoHee? ‘I’m sorry that I like somebody else’? Or possibly, I’m sorry that you sending me nudes I never asked for at 2 AM fucked up my relationship?” He probably could’ve said it with a little less attitude, probably should’ve held back from the second example, especially when he sees the way SoHee’s eyes begin to fill with tears as she looks at all of the gawking bystanders. One of the other nurses walks over and places an arm around SoHee’s shoulder, glaring daggers at Jungkook as if willing him to keel over on the glossy linoleum. 

“You really are an asshole, Jeon. Why would you say that to someone, in front of a crowd? You have no tact.” 

Jungkook is about to fire back at the other woman, but a hand on his shoulder reigns him back in despite his blood continuing to boil.

“Janice, why don’t you escort SoHee to the employee lounge for a bit? I’ll have a chat with Jungkook here.”

Frozen eyes sending a final chilling glare, the women disappear as Jungkook finally moves through the cafe line to the cashier, Jin following quietly. He continues to shadow Jungkook as he makes his way back to the palliative care and hospice unit to deliver the food. As he rounds the doorway, he sees that the patient’s adult children have arrived, a few grandchildren as well. 

To his surprise, Min-Ji is awake, but this only makes him worry about what’s to come. He sets the food to the side, greeting the members of Min-Ji’s family as he does a quick check of Min-Ji’s breathing. The pattern appears abnormal—though normal for someone approaching the end of life. He’s glad her family made it in time to see her; he knows that before the day is out, possibly even before his shift ends, she’ll quietly cross the veil.

Jungkook slips back out of the room to give the family some privacy, and to meet with Jin, who he knows is waiting for him. The two men walk to a nearby empty nurses’ desk, and Jungkook waits expectantly for Jin to speak. 

“Well, that went swimmingly.”

“All thanks to you, my friend,” Jungkook responds snidely, “not only is SoHee mad at me, I’m also not talking to You-Know-Who right now because of a pretty serious fight we had last night.”

“Calm down, she’s not Voldemort,” Seokjin snorts out. “But you two fought about something serious?”

“Yeah…She was at my place last night and saw a series of messages from SoHee that included a nude. She kind of went spastic on me, accusing me of requesting the nudes from SoHee after having sex with her because I’m ‘too young’ to behave any differently. I honestly was so angry, I called her a taxi and sent her home.” 

Seokjin blinks at Jungkook dumbfoundedly before speaking. “Maybe if you’d already told our dear friend you’re banging his sister, and then told her that you want to date her, none of this would have even been able to happen.”

“This advice would’ve been better than encouraging SoHee’s imagination,” Jungkook grumbles out, though his voice takes a softer tone when he says your name as he continues, “if she had wanted to date her brother’s youngest friend, I think she would’ve said something by now.”  The condescension towards the age gap is laced through every word. Seokjin ponders his words before speaking his point of view.

“You know, I think that maybe the two of you put too much weight on this age gap. Even now, you’re taking on this submissive role, waiting for her to tell you or make the first move. But let me tell you a little something about women. No matter their age, they want someone who isn’t afraid to want them back. And you, my friend, are shaking in your scrubs.”  

“I’m not scared,” Jungkook instantly defends, but even he can hear the lie whistle through his teeth.

“Then why are you waiting for her to make all the decisions? Why haven’t you had an adult conversation, sat her down, and told her what you wanted for a change?”

“Because I—” Jungkook pauses, unsure of how to answer. In all realness, he is scared. He enjoys what the two of you have going on, and he worries that if he speaks up for what he wants, if he asks you to change the friends-with-benefits status to something real…being incinerated by the sun after being lit on fire by jet engine fuel would hurt less than the hypothetical rejection he fears. 

Seokjin just gives him a knowing look, his eyes soft with empathy for his younger friend's dilemma. “Just talk to her. Show her you want her, and not just in a friends-with-benefits way.” He once again gives Jungkook that knowing look. “Tomorrow is the perfect opportunity to clear the air. Everyone loves a good wedding.”

“Except SoHee is also going to be there.”

Seokjin curses lowly under his breath and is about to say more when Jungkook’s phone begins to emit a shrill tone for attention. The two men silently make their way back to Min-Ji’s room, knowing that if the phone is ringing, it’s not for any good reason.

It’s been a long day full of revelations. The long talk with your brother and his soon-to-be wife has left you feeling drained and empty. Sitting on your couch, you open up the app to order food from your favorite takeout place barely a block away. Carelessly, you reorder the last meal you placed before slumping backwards into the plush cushions. 

Now that you’ve ordered, you really wish you had chosen delivery, like the lazy ass you want to be, but it’s not that far from your place. You close your eyes for what feels like a moment, but an alert jerks you out of the light slumber you’d slipped into. Your food is ready to be picked up. Sighing, you rock back then forward to lift yourself from the sunken spot on your comfortable couch and shrug on Jungkook’s hoodie for the trek. 

The weather teases a light rainfall, the petrichor scent enveloping you as you quicken your steps through the glass door of the establishment. Approaching the counter, the cashier recognizes you and pulls your order—two plastic bags with a brown paper bag inside each full of steaming hot food.

Checking the receipt stapled to the first bag, you see that you’ve accidentally ordered twice as much food; your last placed order was a meal for two, and the extra food? Jungkook’s favorite dishes from here. With resignation, you grab both bags, attempting to balance them on each forearm and use your foot to push open the door, but the door swings open as a man with an umbrella steps through. 

Jungkook says your name as if it's a curse and a prayer, sidestepping back onto the sidewalk to hold the door for you to exit. You thank him, fully intending to keep walking past him, but he follows you instinctively. 

“Let me help,” he says, his hand reaching out to grab one of the bags, and like muscle memory, you allow it, both of you walking in tandem until you reach your place. Unlocking the front door, he follows you in if only to set down the bag, but you stop him with a hand to his wrist before he can leave. 

“I, uh, accidentally ordered your favorites when I rushed my last reorder. You can have it, if you want. I can’t eat all of this.”

Jungkook just shrugs, and you finally notice how he looks. It’s not good—well, he always looks good; he can pull off anything. It’s more so that he doesn’t look well; his face is pale, eyes listless and devoid of any joy, parts of his face a bright red from being picked at. It’s one of his habits you’re well aware of, like when he bites his nails when nervous. Reaching into the bag, you lift out the container and pass it to him along with napkins and utensils. Taking the food from you, he steps into your living room, plopping down onto your couch as if muscle memory has taken over, he takes off the lid and begins the motions of eating the meal.

Your own thoughts are racing, unsure of what to do or say, so you just say nothing, instead pouring two glasses of water and delivering them to the coffee table before going back for your food. You end up sitting on the smaller couch, the corner closest to where he sits on the larger couch. The room fills with the sounds of you eating, an awkwardness that never used to be there lingering in the air. Your eyes flit from your food to Jungkook’s slow movements, so after you swallow your most recent bite, you take a sip of water before speaking.

“Is everything okay, Jungkook?” The urge to call him ‘baby’—to cuddle him to you and comfort him—is strong, but you resist.

His hand moves the food around a bit, and you watch him as he gathers himself to reply. It feels like hours, but he finally looks at you. “Yeah, I just had a really hard case today. It was a hospice patient, and I spent most of the day with her husband. Well, second husband—but the love of her life, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” you don’t know what to say; you’re not really sure what made the case so hard, so you wait for Jungkook to elaborate.

“They, uh, knew each other for a long time, since they were kids, you know? But he was the younger brother of her best friend, and she married someone else before he worked up the courage to pursue her. He ended up married to one of her friends instead, but she left him. He said his first wife knew that no one could compete with the girl he actually loved. So when the first husband died in the Gwangju Uprising, leaving her a single mom with a small baby, he stepped in to provide them with a place to live and just help out, but they ended up together eventually and they have a big family.” Jungkook’s eyes look back at his food, a bit teary. “I met their kids and grandkids. They arrived right before she—” he clears his throat, but a small tear sneaks down his cheek.

You reach out for him, pulling the food from his hands and placing it on the table. You scoot closer to him, taking his hands into yours as he looks down at where the two of you connect. He sniffles, trying to stabilize his voice before he continues with his story.

“They arrived right before she passed. She’d been asleep the whole time I was there with her husband, but once everyone arrived, she woke up and was talking to them all, told them she loved them one last time, and then she just…slipped away. I don’t think I can ever forget the sound her husband made as he cried.”

“Oh, Jungkook…” unable to bear it, you join him on the same couch, holding him close to you as he cries. Your own eyes are wet; something about this couple’s story resonates with you after everything that you’ve experienced today.

“I can’t imagine going through that,” Jungkook says with a wobbly voice. “Losing the person that you love the most in the world? I mean, he almost avoided having to go through this, she married someone else! And the chance comes around for him to be with her and he takes it, but the way he cried when he lost her…I’m not sure it’s worth it in the end.” 

His words cut like a knife to your heart. You want to remind him of the good that he told in the story, how the couple had a large family, how the wife was surrounded by the evidence of their love when she died. How the man taking that second chance meant a single mom and her baby had a better life—that anguish he felt when he lost her was because they shared a love like no other. To you, it’s always worth it. 

Instead of saying what you want to say, you ask him what he needs. And those beautiful teary eyes look up at you and he whispers one word; “You,” and you’re unable to say no to him. Not when his lips meet yours with a desperation that you can’t begin to decipher, not when his hands pull you closer, and he clings to you like a lifeline, and definitely not when he sighs out your name against your lips, as if the simple utterance fills him with solace and relief of all that ails him.

His strong hands relieve you of your clothing as his lips remain fervently attached to yours. You relish in the feel of him as your naked form meets his own body, skin to skin, while he lays you back onto the couch. His kiss leaves you dazed; you have no idea how long it took for you both to end up naked, and by the time the question is flying through your mind, Jungkook is already nestled between your thighs, his cock hard and throbbing pressed against your lower stomach and your ankles crossed at his lower back.

When he pulls away slightly—reaching to line himself up with your slick opening—you bite his bottom lip where it was resting against your own, and the sensation causes him to surge his hips forward, fucking himself deep inside you. The intrusion is orgasmic, stretching you to a fullness you only experience when he doesn’t take time to prep you. Jungkook is needy, fraught with a raw emotion he can’t yet put words to, but his body can.

With each stroke, he finds comfort, the grip of your walls building the friction to a pleasurable high that he wants to drown in. Is there anything better to ease his mind than to be buried inside of you? He knows you're close, can feel the way you quicken—hurtling towards climax as you dig your nails into his back and cry out his name. Your body wrapped around him brings him a level of peacefulness that allows his mind to empty and his heavy cock to release thick spurts of cum until you're full and leaking around his softening member. 

You lay underneath him, holding him close as his chest rises and falls, and he peppers kisses along your shoulder. His movements are slow and you can feel the effects of the day taking over and pulling him into sleep. He slides his body so that the two of you are back to front, him curling around you as the big spoon. He grasps the blanket you keep across the top of the couch and attempts to cover you both, but you take over for him. 

He drops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest as he kisses the back of your head once more. 

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he mutters before he’s softly snoring, and you lay there in his embrace, contemplating what his apology could be for. 

Was he apologizing for sending you home last night? For that thumbs up he sent that ruined your day? Because he feels bad that he only made you cum once after using your body to make himself feel better?  It’s only when you’re about to drift off that you remember his words about his patient, and your mind wonders if his apology is telling you sorry because he can’t give you what you want the most. Himself.

stay tuned for “i’ll be loving you right, seven days a week” coming 9-?-2023!

↣all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

lilia and uncle iroh

“Leaves from the vine, falling so slow… Like fragile, tiny shells drifting in the foam. Little soldier boy comes marching home… Brave soldier boy comes marching home.”

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how similar Lilia and Iroh’s character development is 🤔 At a surface level, they’re both the wise mentor types that guide their somewhat misguided or naive pupils—but the parallels run even deeper than that!! I wanted to go over those in this post; maybe it would help us appreciate how far Lilia has come on his own merits ever since his war general days.

***Spoilers for book 7 of TWST and Avatar the Last Airbender (only the animated series, not other ATLA materials)!!***

To begin, let's set the stage for the character we'll be comparing Lilia to: Iroh. The show Avatar the Last Airbender takes place in a heavily Asian inspired world where some have the ability to bend an element: earth, water, fire, or air. At present, the Fire Nation has been waging a 100 years long war on the other nations in an imperialistic bid for power. Iroh, while presented as a kind and peaceful old man in modern day, was once a leading general for the Fire Nation. He was an active warmonger and, as the eldest son of the Fire Lord, set to inherit the throne, and the legacy of bloodshed and violence that came with it. Notably, even during his days as a general, Iroh still came off as mild-mannered and had a sense of humor (joking about how magnificent Ba Sing Se is, but saying that his niece and nephew may not get to see it because he might just burn it to the ground first). Iroh is also characterized as being more kind and forgiving than his younger brother Ozai, as he lied about slaying the last dragons to allow them to go into hiding and prevent people from hunting them into extinction. His personality still persists during all of this time. The event that would shake Iroh's life and serve as the impetus for turning his back on the war efforts was at the siege of Ba Sing Se, a city known for its impenetrable walls. There, Iroh managed to breech the Outer Wall and fully intended to finally conquer the city thought to be unconquerable--until he tragically lost his one and only son, Lu Ten, on the front lines. This destroyed Iroh's fighting spirit, causing him to abandon the siege and branding him a failure and a coward in the eyes of his family members.

When Iroh's father passed away under mysterious circumstances, it was his younger brother Ozai who was named as the successor. Iroh had lost the will to fight for his birthright, as he was still grieving for his son. Instead, a disillusioned Iroh left his role in the military and politics to embark on a worldly journey, visiting multiple other nations and learning from their unique cultures. At first, he was filled with great shame at his "failure" to become the Fire Lord--but with time, Iroh realized that avoiding his ascension to the throne was actually a stroke of good fortune. He turned away from the aggression and imperialism of his home country and began seeing the value in peace and balance in all things. Later on, Iroh would serve as a vital mentor and father figure to his nephew and Ozai's son, Zuko, who was banished from home and sent to capture the one person who could stop their victory in the war: the Avatar. Having been disgraced and practically renounced by his own father, Zuko had very few people left to turn to. It was his Uncle Iroh who accepted him with open arms and tried to support him through these difficult times. On their hunt, Zuko is very clearly still in a dark place, constantly insisting that he "needs to capture the Avatar" and that he needs to "regain his honor". Meanwhile, Iroh does what he can to calm his nephew and pass on wise words, extoling the virtues of peace and recognizing the importance of other nations. He urges Zuko to seek inner peace and to determine his own destiny, rather than act out a destiny that someone else has decided for him. We later learn that Iroh sees Zuko as his own son ever since he lost Lu Ten to the war, and we see this compassion and care similarly reflected in how he treats everyone around him. Rarely does Iroh ever express anger or hatred, not even when faced with men intent on harming him. One notable example of this is when a robber demands all of his money, and all Iroh does is disarm him and correct his weak stance. They then sit down, have tea, and talk about the robber's future prospects. This segment infamously comes from Iroh's segment in the episode Tales of Ba Sing Se, in which he's living in the city he once laid siege to as a refugee of war. In it, Iroh goes about his day giving helpful advice to the various people he comes across. This all culminates in the penultimate moment where he scales a hill outside the city and prepares a memorial in honor of Lu Ten. "Happy birthday, my son. If only I could have helped you too." These lines completely recontexualize everything Iroh has been doing up until this point in the series. Literally everything he does and says comes, in part, from the guilt he feels for the part he played in the war and the countless people scarred by it, including himself and his own family. He saw it happen to Lu Ten, and he fears it happening to Zuko and the numerous others touched by the horrors of war. After all, war and hatred do not discriminate. Everyone is affected by it, and Iroh is now wise enough to understand that and to wish for no one to go down the same dark path he once was. ... But hey, this is mostly meant to be a Twisted Wonderland post, so let's finally get to how any of this is relevant to Lilia.

Like Iroh, Lilia was a general to his country's military during a war. In Lilia's case, they were on the losing side, as fae were greatly outnumbered by humans and repulsed by the iron human soldiers wore in combat. The fae weren't the aggressors, but rather people who were trying to defend their territory and resources from invading humans who were tearing apart nature. From what we've observed of him in his book 7 dreamscape, the Lilia of the past is different from what we know now. He maintains his teasing humor and love of surprises, but comes off as gruff and closed off, acting suspicious of others and rejects the idea of wanting or having children. Most shockingly of all though, Lilia states that he has no interest in going to Night Raven College or really engaging with other races. This is a huge departure from modern day Lilia, who encourages his dorm members (most notably Malleus and Sebek) to go out of their comfort zones and to make efforts to understand their peers. He is also known for instilling in Silver a desire to unite people of all races (something which Silver explains to the pixies in Fairy Gala: If). Lilia even uses his wish during the Star Sending to wish for a peaceful world where everyone can live in harmony. He made LARGE strides in his worldview in the hundreds of years between then and now. It's important to note that Lilia often travels and talks about how much the world has changed. This, I assume, would lend to his knowledge and acceptance of many different races and cultures, similar to how Iroh's travels imparted knowledge and appreciation in him. Given how abrasive Lilia was during the war era (plus his refusal to consider other races), I'd surmise his travels started after the war ended.

All that's missing now is the impetus for Lilia's change in behavior: the Lu Ten to Iroh, so to speak. For Lilia, I think it's actually a compounding of many factors: firstly, his best friend (and Malleus's father) Levan, the messenger sent to an enemy fortress goes missing. Secondly, we can infer that his princess Meleanor (and Malleus's mother) must have been killed by humans (as Malleus says in modern day that his only living relative is his mother, and we are currently on a book 7 cliffhanger knowing that humans have ambushed the castle where she is staying)... leaving Lilia to pick up the pieces of a war-ravaged country and with an egg that has yet to hatch. I think it’s safe to say though that Lilia probably felt immense guilt at Malleus, still unborn, having to be raised without parents, by someone who doesn’t understand parental love himself—and perhaps Lilia took up that mantle to atone for being unable to protect them. It was also, after all, Meleanor’s wish that Lilia protect her son and ensure he hatch in her stead if something horrible befell her. Maybe, in another way, you could say that Lilia eventually wants to avoid war so that no one has to suffer such cruel, unnecessary loss as Malleus, Silver, or he did ever again.

Then we also learn that Lilia started raising Silver because he wishes to understand humans—a sentiment that Levan expressed to his friend. It was also Levan that kept the NRC invitation letter safe for Lilia, an implication to reconsider. And so Lilia willingly raises child of a sworn enemy, the Dawn Knight. We see how Silver in particular softens Lilia and changes his worldview and, most notably, Silver so innocently wished his father good health with an acorn amulet. That amulet would become Lilia’s most prized possession, and he kept it all these years later despite the acorns losing their freshness. It’s in raising Silver that Lilia recognizes and learns to appreciate the fragility that is human life and hardens his resolve to defend what he once deemed relatively unimportant.

In Lilia's case, his impetus comes from the guilt of not being there at the crucial moment to protect his sovereign--and later down the line, from the disillusionment of knowing that he had a part in escalating the conflict that would ultimately harm humans and fae alike. This may be whey he so readily adopts a policy of peace and acceptance of other races when we see in at NRC. Not only that, but it was the first person he lost, Levan, that encouraged Lilia to open his heart to other races. His enlightening travels, his experiences with raising children who are innocent and rely on him for survival, and the guilt setting in all feed into Lilia's change of heart, his desire to not see history repeat itself, and his vision of world peace. That's why he's so keen to instill these same values into those he mentors: because he knows that, someday, he won't be here anymore to spread them. While he's still around, he wants Malleus, Sebek, and Silver to carry on his legacy, to make his dream a reality.

Truthfully, Lilia could have easily gotten mad. He could have closed himself off. He could have become hateful and sought revenge. He could have blamed humans for what they took from him. It speaks immensely to his strength as an individual that he didn't, and that he instead learned from his mistakes to ensure they don't happen again. Lilia still very much has pride in his home country and its royal family. However, the difference now is that he has opened himself up to other sources, seeing that there is something wonderful in every corner and facet of the world.

Both Iroh and Lilia are wise, loving mentor characters who have developed in their own ways far before the main show/story events begin to pan out. One might even argue their development is "already finished" long before the other characters even start on theirs, which puts them in a good position to lead others. Age grants them the edge of knowledge and being able to impart that onto the younger generation, not only to avoid imminent disaster, but to create a better world for all.

[havingaverydrarryday]

what are some of your favorite stories?

I have nearly 40 pages of bookmarked fics so this it by no means all of the stories I love. So here's a (not so short) list in no particular order. Some are individual stories, some are series. All on A03, some are restricted.

Azoth by zeitgeistic

Summary:

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

remember me by hupsoonheng

Summary:

On a chilly day in October, Draco kisses Harry goodbye before he goes on yet another dangerous, undercover mission with the Aurors. And then Harry doesn't come back. Only Draco believes that Harry isn't dead, and pours himself into finding his husband despite his friends' pleas to move on and grieve properly. What he finds at the end of that work, though, is not at all what he wanted.

you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass

Summary:

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

Way Down We Go by xiaq

Summary:

The war was over. Or at least that’s what the papers said. They’d been saying it, for months, as if people needed reminding. Maybe they did. *** In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.

Variation by LowerEastSide

Summary:

Adaptation under isolation and domestication; characteristics both immutable and variable.   After suffering enormous losses, Draco Malfoy must now struggle to define his place in the post-war world. Through dashed hopes and changing fortunes, Draco carves out a new niche for himself. But adapting to life with Harry Potter may be the biggest challenge of all.

The Star Splitter by oflights

Summary:

On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival.

It Was All Just a Game (Rewrite) by write_me227

Summary:

If there's one thing that Draco Malfoy yearns for, it's seeing Harry Potter in pain. How that happens, he doesn't care. When Potter's name is pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, Draco sees it as the perfect opportunity to fulfill his greatest desire. Except Saint Potter has luck swimming in his veins. He needs to be distracted... And the best way to do that is to make him fall in love.

The Man Who Lived by sebastianL (felix_atticus)

Summary:

Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee. Set in New York twelve years after the war.

19 Years Later by ladyroxanne21

Summary:

Due to a previous agreement and a lack of communication, Draco realizes that Harry's cheating on him. He then has to decide if he wants to forgive Harry or leave him. But Harry's not about to let Draco go without fighting to stay together.

Chaos Theory by Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley)

Summary:

Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future. One gene varies, one neuron fires, one butterfly flaps its wings, and Draco Malfoy's life is completely different. Draco has always found a certain comfort in chaos. Perhaps he shouldn't.

Recursion by Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley

Summary:

A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two. But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre

Summary:

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats

Summary:

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi

Summary:

Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Valebis by Heerayni

Summary:

Valebis or Farewell. For Draco, it is all that remains. Death is a reward to be earned. But every reward must be deserved and it seems there remains a final, cruellest test before the time for Valebis arrives. Shattered heart and soul, Draco knows there is one last thing he can give to the reason of his destruction, the saviour of the wizarding world : His Life. Veela!fic- NOW with Epilogue

Redeem Me by Samayel

Summary:

Two years after the events of Harry's sixth year at Hogwart's, Draco stumbles back into his life. Harry is a bitter and vengeful young man, Draco is a walking wreck...and who is helping who? (Explicit rating is for later chapters. This fic is HBP compliant with only very small adjustments to suit this plot.) OOC- is for semiDark!Harry.

If Wishes Were Children by oldenuf2nb

Summary:

Harry Potter has tried to move on with his life after Draco Malfoy walked away from him months before with little or no explanation, but it's been hard. Then, on a joyous day at the Burrow, Narcissa Malfoy makes an unexpected appearance...

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound

Summary:

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Kiss Me (Under the Light of a Thousand Stars) by Iwao

Summary:

Harry rescues Draco Malfoy from Azkaban, where he has been imprisoned for three years after the war. Draco is not as Harry remembers, as Azkaban leaves its mark on even the strongest of wizards. With no memory of who he was or how he came to be in Harry's care, Draco needs Harry's help if he is to have any hope of making a full recovery. But Harry has his own demons to fight and together with saving Draco, Harry must also discover a way to find himself.

You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore 

Summary:

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

Of Wands and Trees by Omi_Ohmy

Summary:

All Draco wants to do is be a wandmaker, but to do so he needs to understand the soul of trees. Of course, the only man who might be able to help him is the one man who is more of a mystery to him than any tree.

In the Mirror by CorvetteClaire

Summary:

Draco is standing on the top of the North Tower with his wand pointed at Dumbledore. How in bleeding hell did he get here? An alternate version of Harry's Sixth Year at Hogwarts. Harry is intent on saving Draco from his father's machinations, but when Draco leaves Hogwarts, Harry can't protect him. And Voldemort has ways of forcing people to do his bidding.

The Fall of the Veils by lettered

Summary:

This is the fic where Muggles find out about wizards, wars are fought, Apparition is abolished, political conspiracies abound, Draco is asexual, and Harry has Legilimency sex with him.

The Voldemort Manor by kedavranox 

Summary:

The Malfoy Manor is a state run museum, renamed The Voldemort Manor by the Ministry for Magic. As part of his probation, Draco is assigned as sole caretaker. When the Manor hosts a series of high class events celebrating the Wizarding World’s fourth Yuletide season Post War, it brings with it a swathe of people Draco hasn’t seen in years; including one, Harry Potter.

A Big Black Sky by alexmeg

Summary:

Draco shifts his head as he turns to look at Scorpius, his cheek touching the pillow. "Did you know that…" He pauses, his throat convulsing, and it sounds audible in the silence, besides Michael's steady, even breathing from the other bedroom. Scorpius is staring back at him, in wait of something new to learn, a beautiful and intelligent child. He has Draco's mind. He has Draco's eyes and nose and mouth and hair. He is his. All his. All he has of Michael are his wild curls and the green of his eyes, and sometimes he looks into them and imagines that they aren't Michael's, but someone else's. Draco leans his head closer, biting the quiver out of his lips before he breathes a laden and shuddering exhale, and he whispers, "You are my star in a big black sky."

The Green Vial by eidheann for capitu

Summary:

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.

Stain of Silence by brummell (actualite)

Summary:

After the war, Draco serves out his sentence in Harry Potter's house.

Accidental Magic by PenguinAnimagus

Summary:

After the war, Draco left the magical world. He doesn’t lead the easiest life, doesn't sleep enough and has another mouth to feed. He doesn’t expect to be forced to go back early, but when his son’s accidental magic threatens the Statute of Secrecy, there’s only one person who can help.

Is It True That You Like To Sleep Alone (or is it what you just tell everyone) by LadySlytherin

Summary:

In the wake of the war, Draco has worked hard to scrub the taint from his name. He is society's darling and he relishes the rewards that come with it. Not ready to settle down - and with no intention of ever marrying one of the young witches his parents keep trying to force on him - Draco is enjoying the freedom to sleep with whomever he wants, whenever he wants. When Draco finds out he's pregnant, and that the father could be one of three different men, he has to figure out what comes next. It could be a fairy tale come to life...or it could be the biggest scandal in the history of the Wizarding World. It's all in how Draco manages to spin it...

Draco Malfoy and the GenderBend Blend by pixiedunhoff

Summary:

Draco takes a liking to GenderBend Blend and goes out on Halloween, which leads to an encounter with Harry Potter.

Special Gifts by oldenuf2nb

Summary:

Ten years after a devastating accident costs Harry Potter the love of his life and leaves him with life altering injuries, he is asked to return to Hogwarts to help the child of an old friend, with the help of an old adversary.

That Which Divides Us by oldenuf2nb

Summary:

Three years after what would have been their seventh year at Hogwarts, the war between the forces of light and Voldemort's minions grinds on. But even within the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix there are vast disagreements over what is good for 'the Chosen One' and his volatile relationship with Draco Malfoy has many on edge. Sometimes even the best intentions can reap disaster.

la pesistencia de la memoria by ScorpioPhoenix 

Summary:

Harry loses 5 years of his memory and doesn't remember his relationship with Draco. Who ended up pregnant by a strange curse. Harry tries to re-live his past, as Draco fights to keep his present. But will their love win in the future?

Strawberry fields (bitter bites) by sirlivi

Summary:

There is a truth, generally accepted amongst wizarding society, that while an unmated Alpha may spend their rut with whomever their desires dictate, an unmated Omega must not …

Hospital Shirt by Aeliz

Summary:

Draco has spent over a decade building a life in America, when a mysterious patient in Britain falls ill. After a barrage of letters and requests, he finds himself forced home -- to save the life of one Harry Potter.

If stars died of old age by DefNotForWork

Summary:

His mother had had six months after his father had died. But it was expected; they had prepared and were already rather distanced. Draco hadn’t been ready, and Merlin, he had been so in love. He knew he was counting down in weeks, not months.

Telling the Bees by hiimcibee

Summary:

Scorpius’ body was found in Hogwarts one early morning.

In the Blood by BiscuitBrunch

Summary:

Harry Potter thinks Draco Malfoy is a slimy git of a defense lawyer, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing. Draco Malfoy thinks Harry Potter is a filthy pig of an Auror, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing. They fight, fuck, fall in love, and fight some more. When they're on the brink of getting their shit together and starting a family, a blood curse surfaces that threatens the lives of Draco and their unborn child.

Eight Days A Week by Romaine

Summary:

This is foremost a love story and second it's about those growing up years. Becoming adults with adult lives and adult decisions. Yes, Harry's a Trainee-Auror and Draco's a Healer-in-Training after the war. Yes, Harry eventually moves into 12 Grimmauld Place. And, yes, attraction happens between Harry and Draco and they fall in love, but then there's more. Draco is now free from Voldemort, free from fear of going to Azkaban, free from his Father's beliefs, and free to be the person, the witch, the woman she always felt she should be. And for Harry, it’s time to lose the shackles of his childhood and discover who he really is and what’s truly important in life. This story begins one year or so after the Battle at Hogwarts and follows their relationship faithfully for two years. The final chapter will take place later in their lives. This is a positive transition story without body dysphoria, but will contain moments where prejudice and slights arise. This story is categorized as M/F.

Jolene by Romaine

Summary:

Harry comes back from a mandatory holiday and finds that an Auror raid on his favourite establishment could expose his biggest secret. However, another has even more secrets than he does at stake. - has a sequel, Jolene Deux

Tooth Rot and Chocolate Cake by Anonymous

Summary:

Draco Malfoy has an eating disorder that has gotten progressively worse throughout the years. No one knows how bad it truly is. No one, except Harry Potter, who catches Draco head in the toilet, hands halfway down his throat, purging his brains out - not once, but twice.

The Songbirds of Avebury Manor by Tessa Crowley

Summary:

Harry Potter presents as alpha at fifteen, and it is supposed to change his life for the better. Instead, it leads him to a beautiful noble omega he cannot have, a political plot he cannot escape, and a threat on his life.

Blood Link by CorvetteClaire

Summary:

It is Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, and Voldemort has returned to full power. The Death Eaters assault the castle and lay siege to it, injuring Draco and trapping the students inside. Chaos and much angst ensue.

Double Edged Sword by Romaine

Summary:

Harry thinks his life has been planned out, but the night he comes of age changes everything. Now there are decisions to be made and a path to be chosen, and the choices before him will change the lives of everyone he knows. But when destiny calls, Harry finds himself ready to listen.

This is an epic story of the love between Harry and Draco. Join them as they journey through their life together, through the good times and the bad, facing obstacles both external and internal, and see how they come to be who they were meant to be

Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary:

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl

Summary:

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go. Stanley!!

Alucinatio by alexmeg

Summary:

"It's... it's not good," Harry tells them lowly. "They've given him a month's time, only." There is so much he needs to explain, but his head is foggy and exhausted and he can't think properly, can't think of how to relay all that he's learned. "Have you heard of Alucinatio?" is what he starts with. "The Daydream potion," Hermione says. "The person who intakes it experiences very vivid and realistic daydreams of all they could ever want, but is essentially in a severely catatonic state out in the external world, incapable of any basic functions." Harry nods. "Somebody's given it to Malfoy." He remembers the tattered remains of a black cloak wrapped around Malfoy. "I think it might have been Professor Snape." They take a minute to process that. "And... the cure?" Ron asks. "Tears of anyone the experiencer craves love of," Hermione answers.

The Lily Spell by pickledghost

Summary:

Harry Potter is one of the most handsome and sought after alphas on the Hogwarts Higher Education Programme. Draco Malfoy on the other hand, is the Seventh Year omega son of deceased Death Eaters and is widely ignored and shunned by his peers. Harry doesn’t even know Draco exists until he discovers that the younger boy is pregnant with his baby thanks to a spell gone wrong.

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 10

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags/content warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9

Chapter 10 summary: Dara and Crosshair go undercover and look for new and exciting ways to annoy each other.

“I really don’t think it’s necessary for him to come. His tattoo might be less noticeable than yours, but he still stands out too much.” It was perhaps the dozenth time Dara had tried to convince Hunter to let her leave Crosshair behind, and still he wasn’t budging. The trip through hyperspace had been long, and they’d landed in a quiet meadow on Caameris late in the night cycle, opting to wait until the morning to begin their surveillance. This was Dara’s last chance to object, as she waited at the bottom of the ramp into the Marauder while Crosshair finished changing into his civilian clothes. The ground was damp, and the air was heavy with moisture, but the temperature was pleasant and the threat of rain seemed far off. Hunter only smirked a little, unmoved.

When Crosshair emerged from the ship, she eyed him critically and shook her head. “No rifle.”

The sniper scowled. “I’m not going anywhere unarmed.”

“This is a nice, peaceful, mid-rim planet, not outlaw country. It sticks out too much. Concealed weapons only. I have an extra blaster for you here.” She gestured to the basket she was carrying, where a carefully folded blanket disguised the hidden pistols.

Hunter looked from one to the other, not bothering to conceal his shit-eating grin. He felt a little bad sticking Dara with Crosshair for the day, but not so guilty that he wouldn’t take the opportunity to punish his brother for his earlier comments. With an exaggerated grumble, Crosshair removed his Firepuncher from his back and handed it to him. “Have fun, you two,” the Sergeant chuckled as they set off.

They kept their distance from one another and walked silently. Tech had set down the Marauder beyond a forested area that separated the town and the villa, far off the main road, where they hoped it would go unnoticed. It was a tense thirty minutes, in which each refused to acknowledge the other, before they approached its outskirts.

Dara narrowed the gap between them as they began to pass neat little houses and businesses, all roofed with colorful tiles. Locals watched them with open curiosity on the streets. It became busier as they approached the center of the town, entering a bustling, open-air market. “Follow my lead,” she muttered to Crosshair.

“Do I have to?” he sighed miserably.

She pursed her lips briefly before pasting on the easy, charming smile that she seemed to direct toward everyone else besides the sniper and began perusing the stalls attentively. She had purchased small items from several of the shops, filling her basket with fresh fruits and vegetables, before one of the merchants finally acknowledged the stares still being directed at the newcomers in the crowded marketplace.

“We don’t often get new faces around here. What brings you to Caameris?” The woman asked.

Crosshair fought to keep the surprise off his face as Dara intertwined her arm in his, gave his bicep a quick squeeze, and sent an admiring glance his way. “Oh, we only just arrived,” she explained brightly. “We’re here to spend a nice quiet honeymoon. It’s not often that we get to travel, and we just wanted the opportunity to have some quality time together away from it all. We’re nature lovers, and we couldn’t think of anything more romantic than camping together under the stars.”

“Oh, how lovely! I remember my own like it was yesterday. My husband and I have been married for nearly thirty years.” The shopkeeper, while never exactly suspicious, was certainly more open now that she had a ready explanation to satisfy her curiosity about them. In fact, as he watched a few passersby blatantly listening in, Crosshair had the impression that the whole population would be aware of the story behind these new strangers before long, the engines of small-town gossip running quickly and efficiently. He had to begrudgingly admit that Dara was good—a little too good.

“How wonderful,” Dara gushed. “Well, we were hoping to take a hike tomorrow. Is there anything we should be certain to see? We saw that lovely mansion across the lake as we were landing—I don’t suppose you know whether the grounds are open for visitors, do you?”

“Ah, I’m afraid it’s a private residence, and the owner is off world for the next week.” The shopkeeper leaned in companionably. She was already well-invested in passing gossip along to fresh listeners. “The whole estate is quite lavish, in fact. My daughter works in the kitchens.”

“Oh my! It’s quite a large house! I’m sure it keeps your daughter very busy. It seems the ideal place for some very fancy parties…”

Crosshair thought that if this conversation got any more boring he might ruin the mission by shooting himself just to get out of it. The two women, engrossed in their talk, didn’t spare him a glance as he wandered off amid the other stalls, keeping an eye on Dara between squinting warily at the locals, who were still nosily appraising him. He surveyed the market square; while it was largely surrounded by squat, unassuming buildings, one of them—taller, newer, more impressive—stood out. Prium’s satellite lab, he presumed, based on the bored-looking security flanking the doors.

He had nearly completed a full circuit of the market when he noticed that someone else had joined Dara and the shopkeeper. The uniformed Sullustan man was speaking animatedly as he approached. Thinking that perhaps Dara had not fully thought through the implications of her little ruse, Crosshair smirked as he threw a protective arm over her shoulder, feeling her stiffen nearly imperceptibly beneath him.

“Your husband, I presume,” the Sullustan observed magisterially.

“Yes,” Dara said warmly. “Allow me to introduce my husband… Hunter.” Crosshair flared his nostrils, but tried to minimize his scowl—just barely—for the sake of the mission. So, as much as she had chosen to ignore him since the other night, she certainly hadn’t forgotten their earlier altercation. She had just been biding her time to find the best way to torture him. “This fascinating gentleman,” Dara continued, “was just telling me how he is the director of the private research lab of one of the greatest geniuses of our time. You’ve heard of Kumalon Laboratories, haven’t you, sweetie?”

“Dr. Nor Raab. A pleasure,” the scientist greeted him. “Although I must say, if I were on my honeymoon with such a lovely young woman, I think I would look quite a bit…happier.”

Dara laughed, the sound generous and moving, like the tinkle of bells. He didn’t care one bit to hear it directed it toward Raab, any more than he liked Dara’s wink at the pretentious Sullustan. “Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just upset that I wouldn’t let him keep me cooped up in our ship all to himself. Newlyweds, you know.”

“I can’t say I blame him,” Raab replied with a knowing smile.

Crosshair tightened his arm, drawing Dara closer, and nuzzled his nose in her hair, not bothering to suppress a wicked grin when she shivered a little. She smelled earthy, like the beginning of rain. “Speaking of which… I think we’re just about done here, don’t you?” he asked.

“Actually, I was just about to ask Dr. Raab if he would be so kind as to elaborate a little more on his work with Dr. Prium,” Dara insisted. “You see, I’m a teacher and I would love to be able to tell my students all about this when I go back. I think it’s so important to inspire future generations of scientists, don’t you?”

“Well, I also must be returning to my duties, but perhaps you could return later this evening and we could all share a drink nearby. It’s so rare we get visitors.” Raab gestured to a bar at a corner of the square.

“Sounds wonderful. We’ll see you then.” With a small wave at Raab and the shopkeeper, the pair left the market, Crosshair still holding Dara close until they reached the outskirts of town, where she unceremoniously shoved his arm off of her.

“Tell me,” the sniper drawled as he dogged Dara through the woods in the direction of the Marauder, “how many classes dedicated to lying did you take while studying linguistics? Is it a big part of the coursework?”

“My appreciation for theater is extracurricular.” Dara bent over suddenly, drawing a knife out from where it was concealed beneath her pant leg. She rolled her eyes when she noticed Crosshair tense up, preparing for a fight. “Please. If I were going to kill you, I’d know better than to do it when your brothers are my only ride off this planet.”

He crossed his arms, watching her as she knelt and used the knife to dig in the dirt. “What are you doing?”

“It’s springtime here. Things are growing.”

He thought about telling her that wasn’t much of an explanation, but his curiosity got the better of him as he observed her activities. Where he could see a few green tufts peeking out through the dark soil, she unearthed a series of tubers the size of his thumb. Straightening, she ran her fingers along the bark of a few nearby trees until she found one where a thick, meaty fungus grew in shelves, cutting it down in slices. Ignoring him completely now, she wandered along the forest path, collecting her bounty.

Minutes passed before Dara realized the sniper had disappeared. She glanced up into the treetops, catching sight of him perched on a tall branch, still watching her idly, and shook her head in annoyance. But Crosshair could see the corners of her mouth twitching as she returned to her work.

Next chapter

Tag List: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon

[crazylittlejester]

I can yap about anything? Sweat. So I have this LoZ AU I’m slowly making, it’s set post TotK. I’m calling it Royal Depths and let me tell you most of the plot I have for it. This is so long but I must ramble.

TotK!Zelda and Link went missing a few years after the end of the game. Link died and Zelda was captured by a dark force, who was somebody who was close to her. They became “king,” bidding their time in a slow process to reinstate the monarchy back to its formal glory over several Hylian generations. They made sure to have 7 children each generation, becoming the 7 maidens who each oversee different parts of the kingdom. Later in the king’s years, there would be a “chosen successor” to the king voted by the people, but the dark force would always replace the successor after they “died.” After doing this around 3 time already is when the story starts.

Link, the hero, had been reborn as a Zora to King Sidon. He is cursed to be a middle child. He has an older brother named Blueberry(TotK!Link named him) who’s based on a shortfin mako shark and a little sister named Mipha who’s based on a lion fish, like actual Mipha’s concept art. Link is a white tipped shark. He has singing magic, because I like the musical magic in the previous a bunch. Whenever he starts to speak or sing something else, the magic is ceased. After the Zora equivalent of his 16th birthday, he received the Triforce of Courage on his left hand. The spirit of TotK!Link(im just going to be calling him Tears from now on) also appeared, and tries to act like the Hero’s Shade in TP. Link though, is utterly horrified and doesn’t want to even think of being a hero. Hyrule has been peaceful for so long already. Ganon and Zelda have even been born yet. So he traps himself in his room most of the time. He trains and studies in preparation for the worst, but he doesn’t want to make any more connections. People call him the Hermit Prince, and his family is very worried about him. He also has a habit of slipping out of the Zora Domian in the middle of the night.

Zelda hasn’t and will not be reborn, because she is still alive and is being kept as a power source for the kingdom. Yeah. But, she is able to use some of her magic to contact someone, anyone, and to be able to give the Triforce of Wisdom to them. Enter Helix, a mostly regular adult human living in Lodrum. They’re a friend to the Oracles, who only recently appeared this generation, and they are cast out as heretics by the Hyrulian monarchy. Helix doesn’t really care about that, he’s a human after all. Until they receive Zelda’s message and power. In a dream, she tells them that they must go to the castle and stop an evil king with the help of Link. Very vague. Helix goes to the Oracles and they send him off the Hyrule Castle. Suddenly she’s now crowned as the “true” successor of the long missing Princess Zelda. Her name is now Zelda “Helix” Hyrule. They still like to go be Helix, that is their name after all, but they tolerate being called Zelda by the Hylians. His only goal and focus while he’s here is to find the hero, and kill the evil king. He thinks that it would be Ganon, based on the legends.

Ganondorf, or just Ganon, is only like, 10 years old in Gerudo years, but like 12 in human/hylian years. He’s a child, and is trapped within his home and garden by his mother, who believes she’s doing the right thing. She is not, she’s sealing her own demise like this. Everyone believes that he would grow up to be the demon king, just like he did every other time he’s been reincarnated. He’s lonely and scared, scared of himself and what everyone’s telling him he will become. He’s not doing well. Then, one day, an odd bird appears in his garden. It has a long, sleek white body, with pale blue wings. It cozies up to him pretty quick, when all other animals seem to be afraid of him. Soon after that, an oddly dressed purple-cladded Hylian jumps over the garden walls, calling for his bird, Sheerow. Enter Ravio, the main character of this story.

Ravio is the secretary for Hilda, the Prime Minister of Lorule. Lorule is further along in industrial progress compared to Hyrule, Lorule having 2010s vibes while Hyrule is in its equivalent of the Victorian Era. Ravio has magic, but he prefers to do magic tricks rather than actual magic. It’s more fun for him. He was named after Ravio the Merchant, aka AlbW!Ravio. Ravio is obsessed with the story of the Merchant and the Hero, the story of how Lorule was saved with the help of a hero from another world. One day, he receives his world’s equivalent(I’ve been using this word so much)of the Triforce of Wisdom, which looks like where the Hylian Triforce of Courage would be if you turned the Triforce upside down. So when Hilda shoves Ravio in the now open portal to Hyrule, people think that he could be the new hero. He constantly says he’s not, but is his counterpart and is searching for him. He first gets dropped in the middle of Gerudo desert, and a couple of Gerudo help him get to Gerudo Town, since he looks enough like a vai and he also doesn’t know what the words “vai” and “voe” even mean.

But yeah, he goes to Gerudo Town(which is much larger than it was in TotK), and basically adopts Ganon and brings him with him to Hyrule Castle. Well, it’s more like Ganon brings him along to the castle since there is this royal meetup between the kingdoms of Hyrule. Ganon and his “””””mother””””” are representing the Gerudo, Old man Tulin(he’s so old guys but he’s still full of energy) is representing the Rito, Yona and her children-including Link-are representing the Zora, and Helix is also now the main representative of the humans and hylians, along with the king.

Ravio and Ganon have gained permission to explore the castle, and the eventual reach this big garden with a long river at the end of it. Ganon loves it, he loves gardens, and is having such a good kid with the biggest smile on his face as frolics around the place with Sheerow by his side. Ravio’s known this kid for less than a week but is more than willing to kill someone for him I’ll have you know. The garden is also the place where Helix goes to relax and de-stress, which is not happening when she sees the future demon king she’s convinced she’ll have to kill running around in it. She’s very confrontational, only calming a bit once Ravio reveals his mark of the Lorulian Triforce. She’s convinced for a hot second that he’s the hero, but he’s not, just his counterpart from another world, which Helix just can’t seem to get. Another world? How crazy is that?

Then, they both hear a scream coming from Ganon, near the river. A corrupted, monstrous looking thing that looks like it’s made of fire crosses over it in one step, and the battle commences. They’re trying their best, Ravio trying use ice magic(not very effective), Ganon trying to use his own fire magic(not very effective), and Helix doesn’t even know how to use his newfound light magic properly yet(again, not very effective). She pleads to Ravio to go get the Master Sword, since he’s the only one who has a chance of pulling it out of its pedestal. Then, someone is singing. It starts to rain, it starts to pour down hard. Ravio drapes his cloak over Ganon so he doesn’t get hurt by the harsh rain, and the three watch as the monster screams and quickly dies right there and then. On the ground there is this odd, clearly evil, glowing sphere, which gets hit with a Zora spear, shattering it. Link jumps down from the castle roof, says hello, and the rain almost immediately stops once he speaks. He walks directly towards Ravio, while the group are just staring at him with wide eyes and agape mouths. Link introduces himself to Ravio and only Ravio, asking if he really is from another world. Ravio asks back if Link has been there the entire time they were fighting, and Link enthusiastically says yes. Ravio punches Link squarely in the face.

Uh uh, that’s enough of direct storyline for nowww. The Happy Mask Salesman is also here, and Tears lead Link to him to get a Hylian mask. So he can also transform into a Hylian. During the night, he runs off to the circus, and is a semi-famous acrobat. And he can’t speak while wearing the mask, since normally when he speaks the magic he casts stops. But the mask’s magic is way too powerful for him, so he just can’t speak.

Also Ravio, Helix, and Ganon can see Tears, thanks to the Triforces they have. Link has to pretend he can’t see or hear him while in his normal Zora form. And because he’s a Zora with a Hylian soul, he has maybe gender(species?)envy of Ravio. He thinks he’s in love but he’s not, he’s aroace, he just wants to be him not be with him. Ravio also hates Links because of aforementioned stuff above, and also because Link acts very suspicious around him. Ravio has major trust issues. He also is obsessed with the hero, which is also Link. Isn’t that fun? Oh, and everyone calls Link “Herm” because he’s a so called hermit.

A good chunk of the story is focused on the Depths, and the group exploring it to figure out why these monsters are appearing. Eventually, they find Zelda underneath the castle, Tears just breaks because he didn’t know where she was and that she was being used as a power source, and the king finally reveals themselves as the big bad. To the heroes he does at least, but he manages to convince a good chunk of the public that they are the bad guys, because Ganon.

And that’s about it for now haha. 1,708 words, ho boy. Wanted to talk about this for a while, feels great.

Sorry this took me so long to respond to, I wanted to really make sure I had the time to sit down and read it all, and I finally did so YIPPEE!!!

Link died and Zelda was captured by a dark force, who was somebody who was close to her <- GOD DAMN.

They made sure to have 7 children each generation, becoming the 7 maidens who each oversee different parts of the kingdom <- this sounds like a fairy tale almost and im OBSESSED.

Link, the hero, had been reborn as a Zora to King Sidon. <- LETS FUCKING GO ZORA LINK?????? OH MY GOD!!!

BLUEBERRY. PERFECT.

The spirit of TotK!Link(im just going to be calling him Tears from now on) also appeared, and tries to act like the Hero’s Shade in TP <- WOAAAAAAAAH.

Link though, is utterly horrified and doesn’t want to even think of being a hero <- he’s so real for that actually, i adore him

People call him the Hermit Prince, and his family is very worried about him <- Okay so I’m completely obsessed with your blorbo. I am holding him so gently rn

Zelda hasn’t and will not be reborn, because she is still alive and is being kept as a power source for the kingdom. Yeah. <- DAMN.

Enter Helix, a mostly regular adult human living in Lodrum <- OOOOOOOH

Suddenly she’s now crowned as the “true” successor of the long missing Princess Zelda. Her name is now Zelda “Helix” Hyrule <- WOAAAAAAAAAH

Ganondorf, or just Ganon, is only like, 10 years old in Gerudo years, but like 12 in human/hylian years. He’s a child, and is trapped within his home and garden by his mother, who believes she’s doing the right thing. She is not <- OUGH???????? HE’S TEN????

Everyone believes that he would grow up to be the demon king, just like he did every other time he’s been reincarnated. He’s lonely and scared, scared of himself and what everyone’s telling him he will become. He’s not doing well <- you are so evil. you are so so evil (im clawing at the walls screaming btw, holy SHIT!!! /pos /pos /pos)

Enter Ravio, the main character of this story <- FUCKING PLOT TWIST??????

Lorule having 2010s vibes while Hyrule is in its equivalent of the Victorian Era <- Fucking obsessed with this btw

Ravio has magic, but he prefers to do magic tricks rather than actual magic <- HE’S SO ME OH MY GOD

basically adopts Ganon <- OH GOOD, SOMEONE NEEDED TO

Old man Tulin <- TEARS IN MY EYES

Ganon loves it, he loves gardens, and is having such a good kid with the biggest smile on his face as frolics around the place with Sheerow by his side. Ravio’s known this kid for less than a week but is more than willing to kill someone for him I’ll have you know <- Ravio im right there with you

Then, they both hear a scream coming from Ganon, near the river <- LEAVE THAT LITTLE GUY ALONE /ref

Ravio drapes his cloak over Ganon so he doesn’t get hurt by the harsh rain <- i hate you so much for making my heart hurt over this mental image what the fuck (i love you. /p)

Ravio asks back if Link has been there the entire time they were fighting, and Link enthusiastically says yes. Ravio punches Link squarely in the face. <- I LAUGHED OUT LOUD

During the night, he runs off to the circus, and is a semi-famous acrobat <- WHAT A LEGEND

He thinks he’s in love but he’s not, he’s aroace, he just wants to be him not be with him <- OUGH.

Tears just breaks because he didn’t know where she was and that she was being used as a power source <- i am shaking you rn, but so gently and with so much kindness. But also how could you do this to me

Wanted to talk about this for a while, feels great <- IM FUCKJNG INVESTED

I have no idea if you’re writing this, drawing this, exclusively letting it live in your mind, but if you do like produce it physically anywhere… PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND IT TO ME IM EATING THE DRYWALL IN EXCITEMENT RN THIS IS SO FUCKASS /POS I LOVE ALL OF THIS OH MY GOD GOOD LORD I LOVE UR BLORBOS I AM HOLDING THEM SO SO SO SO GENTLY RN OH MY GOD!!!!!!

as you can see i am god’s most normal man. Anyways, THANK YOU FOR SHARING!!!!!

[scottxlogan]

Scottxlogan has received a tag!

@mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea Tagged me to do this thing and I've been completely offline for a few days so it's a slow return to get up to speed here. It'll be the minimum here as I'll try to stick to the first lines, but in some cases there might be 2 lol.

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there’s a pattern!

1. Healing Heart 

The first time Bucky rescued Tony from a bad situation, Tony hadn’t been expecting it.

2. Wish Upon A Star 

The worst had happened.

3. Yearning (Chapter 8)

Tony’s head was spinning, his mind was racing with the adrenaline-fueled frenzy that followed Bucky’s outrageous request. 

4. Up in The Air

The bet. The stupid god damn, f**king bet with Tony. 

5. Conflict Resolution 

The soft, damp spill of warmth spread across Scott’s inner thigh, causing him to shift against the blankets.

6. Wrong Turn 

“I won’t apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you’re taken,” Steve’s words were etched into Tony’s mind the first time they’d made love, leaving Tony with a series of hickies the morning after in strategic places meant for Tony to take notice.

7. Jealousy 

Steve never considered himself to be a jealous person. But then again Steve was never facing the idea of his best friend and his not-so-secret Avengers teammate crush slash ex-lover finding their way to not only reconciling and moving past the anger between them but spending all their time together at every corner.

8. Thirst

“We should be turning him in,” that inner voice in Tony’s head was goading him to comply, to set out to finish the mission like he’d discussed with Steve before he’d wound up discovering that the man that they’d been hunting down had been the one that rocked his world weeks earlier.

9. Falling in love as the world falls down 

The sounds of an explosion outside the building were too close for comfort as far as Logan was concerned. 

10. Aftermath

There was something so remarkably fragile in those quiet unspoken moments after the mission where everything finally came to a screeching halt, where the world no longer pushed its way inside Scott’s brain chipping away at the surface until he was lost inside himself stewing over his missteps. 

In terms of patterns I notice Tony's at the heart of a lot of the character thoughts here lol, but I can say it's been an interesting few months here :)

Thanks for the tag and anyone who wants to play along should hop on in as I invite anyone interested to give it a go :)

[nitro-nova]

Birthday devblog

I'll post a small oops large gamedev update on Combat Nightsuit Saboteur. My last post about it was in April.

During that month, I started working on concept art for the character and sprite.

Starting to get into May, I was working on art for interior areas like you're seeing above, and was starting to develop an idea for the art direction overall. Developing art assets like these while maintaining a full-time job is pretty difficult (every game's a miracle blah blah blah), so I had to accept that my pace would be slow.

I was doing some basic level designs here and testing them out with Clem while taking notes on feedback. I was researching platformers as I was doing this, so it took a little time.

In July, I wanted to find ways to mitigate how long it took to develop art assets. I started working on a prototyping art style so that I could have something in place. I also made a tool for calculating pixel art columns and gutter widths.

I also started taking notes on what lightness values of the character to avoid using in my assets, so that she doesn't blend in too easily. I took a break afterward to visit family with Clem.

I resumed work in August and started sketching out ideas for individual rooms.

I use GIMP for pixel art, but one of the unfortunate gripes I have is that its color palette mapping produces inconsistent artifacts. To combat this, I employed Dither Machine for more consistent pixel gradients.

By September though, I was getting frustrated with my pace, and a burning thing in the back of my mind was that even though the scope was small, the game wasn't fun or interesting, and I wasn't even making progress in the one level I was planning.

I mean, up until this point, I was trying to be kind to myself. I had a full-time job and was sleeping 6-7 hours a night so I could use the time after 10 hour shifts to draw pixel art and watch videos. I was making time for friends and going out with them.

Maybe I have an attention disorder? I do watch more YouTube than I really should (generally I try to use it for listening to music while I create, but I admit I sometimes get sidetracked by bops too lol). I imagine getting suboptimal sleep every day and having to catch up on weekends doesn't help.

I decided in September to change the project. An increase in scope, because I needed to make something I was more familiar with. Six characters, but you only play as one. No longer a jump-and-shoot, but a Strider-like, with an added focus on a beat-em-up combat system. I spent a few days writing backstories and getting the setting more in order, which would help me develop assets with more direction to it.

I refined my character sprite some more, started working on animations.

This shift in design was giving me a second wind, and I knew that I needed a more-than-basic platforming system. I was also promoted at my job, which came with a schedule change (I also got married lol, October was a big month). I decided to adjust my sleep schedule to 8-9 hours a night, and dedicate a single hour per work day for chores. As of today I am much healthier.

October was a major programming month. I started development on what I do best -- a Strider-like platforming engine.

Running, jumping, walljumping, corner grabbing, and ceiling grabbing were implemented. By the end of October, I was finished and successfully deployed the code into the project. To celebrate, I played around with anime color palettes and tried out my art style with a Blender project.

God it looks badass, I don't regret spending time on that art, after all. Despite how much I suffer, productivity-wise, it's stuff like this that motivates me to push on and create. It sounds a bit silly, but this image saved this project from death, because I can't let go of how much I dream of making games and animations.

If I really do finish this project, I can only imagine how much the world would like it. I just know I'm cooking, here. I've been thinking about inviting friends to help (the promotion came with an income increase, but it mainly helps me afford things more comfortably, sadly). I know for sure I need a project manager who may be able to secure full-time development funding, a Kanamori of sorts, to help develop a schedule and try to stick to it. Artists and quality checkers would be amazing, too.

November's development is smaller, but that's because it focused a ton on figuring out a pixel art animation process.

A/B Pose Sketches: Sketching multiple before after poses, like the ones my friend Rawri drew.

Selection, mainly determining which A and B sketches look best.

Joint-Keyframing: Those are the head and joint versions you see me make, with the pink helmet.

In-Betweens: Planning how the motion is meant to carry out.

Limb Shaping: Adding the limb silhouettes

Detailing: Adding the blues, golds, silvers, and black parts. Includes a check for any details I missed.

And that's where I'm currently at!

Edit: Actually, no, I need to say that people HAVE been helping me, here's who I'm shouting out:

Clementine - My wife! Thank you for loving me and supporting me and buying groceries and cooking meals for me and working hard. Genuinely I could never make progress without you helping me.

Mechanicalrot - Our partner! You also help give advice on projects and cook sometimes. I love you as well!

Robin and Eli - My family. Thank you for also buying groceries and helping me with dishes/trash and for your support. (strange-alchemy gets a shoutout for being supportive as well <3)

Saphica - Additional moral support and partner in crime. Thank you for reviewing my artwork and helping me stay positive even when I was feeling rough.

Rawrienstein and AndromedaZach - Amazing friends lending their art experience to help improve my art and animations. It means a lot that you hope for my success.

Rose - Another wonderful friend, thank you for having us over and cooking and showing me movies.

Jaycee - Wonderful friend, thanks for liking my posts and supporting me, too. :]

[cozymochi]

🌻 >:)

IM FOUND ONE OF THESE MEMES IN MY DRAFts! Im gonna rank my experiences in the major fandoms i’ve engaged with.

🩵 YUGIOH! - Second longest running fascination. Upside!! Made life long friends. DOWNSIDE!! Was my first go at online engagement and in those 10 years so much happened that I still can’t help but feel a little sour. …Though ygo back in the day wasn’t good at tag comments, so I didn’t even know those were a thing for years until I branched out. 5/10. But grows to a 7/10 because i’ve settled into a niche area with so few people that it’s now a silly little club. 💕

🧡 Dragon Ball/Z - GENUINE CHAOS. Started off slow but intensified hard cuz get who got involved while Super was airing??? (I didn’t watch it lol), so the discourse and fighting was at an all time high. I have no idea how I even survived this in retrospect. My slight association with people netted me troll asks and my liking of Yamcha also set me up for those. …and frequent art reposting, and quite a few bizarre interactions. Pretty sure my art and edits have circulated more in latin america than I even know. This was also pre-tumblr purge so the amount of nsfw that got thrown my way is… something. That said!! Made also really good friends 💕 and DB/Z probably desensitized me to longer form discussions. 5/10 for insanity, but 8/10 for good reception and VERY PEAK and generous humans.

I think dbz hardened me.

💚 Invader Zim- started off fun (mostly irl with my friendo from days of YGO), but quickly devolved into territory that tested my patience. WHY ON EARTH THIS SERIES’ CONSUMERS had such a huge morality high ground base is beyond me. It’s this fandoms fault I learned about certain modern day online discourse terms and what instilled an irrational posting fear for a year lol. Fun at first and there’s super creative and receptive folk (then those people got kicked out) and left the most insufferable beings imaginable. There’s no in between. Shoutout to all 3 friends made who are still peak. 3/10, if I ever finish any remaining projects or decide to bite the bullet and show completed work, i’m not engaging again. The base just skews somewhere I can’t handle. Which is crazy given the ABOVE contenders have, on paper, done so much more.

dbz hardened me but iz weakened me. Which is probably why i need the formers bootcamp back. Don’t think I’m as fearful now, but i’ll still be salty.

💜 Twisted Wonderland - this is a work in progress experience. Will require further evaluation if all of the above experiences haven’t set my standards. Will stay in my corner. So far it’s 6/10 in vibes (they’re much calmer than the last one), tho I question how much of the interest is from what i do vs. what I did for others. Haven’t shared a ton of opinions yet and god knows lol we don’t want that /s. Still recovering from the former making me wanna just not do much. Baby steps I suppose.

💙 - Sonic The Hedgehog: This is a cheat, I have never interacted with the fandom directly (purely by happenstance, so thankfully no traces exist), but I have been into this since I was a child with no issues. So by default this is the best one. 10/10, didn’t engage, but I do lurk. Though all the stuff I see on tweeter isn’t exactly anything out of the norm for fandoms in general to do, so it weirds me out that people rag on this one for just kinda talking amongst themselves about innocuous things.

“omg this fandom is arguing over QUILL length ughhh can they never be pleased [30 yt videos about this drop]” ngl, this just feels like par for the course junk fandoms do. It really feels no different from DBZ where people go ham about the art style changes and which one is better. Or stupid shit in IZ where they fight about comics vs movie vs show. Like??? The only major difference here is that StH has more people in it (by the millions).

So literally nothing these folk do or say strikes me as anything more serious than what other fandoms already do??? Its just more outsiders see it then churn out content and perpetuate something worse from what’s honestly….pretty tame stuff. Maybe it’s just twitter’s setup given that’s all folk talk about.

[thrifthi]

Josh Hutcherson Count Report!!!

[Long post ahead]

If you follow me, you'll know that since the peak of the Josh Hutcherson Renaissance, I started the Josh Hutcherson Count, inspired by the comments under various IG reels stating the number of Joshes they have encountered so far to illustrate the ridiculous popularity of the meme. Under the cut will be a review of the data collected by me over a period of over a month - from 23 Nov to 31 Dec of the number of Josh posts and reels I have encountered on Instagram.

So, to start things off, I would like to say that this is nowhere close to like a proper study or investigation. At first this was just like a fun thing I thought I was gonna do for like a week when the meme dies off. For the first week, I basically used sheer memory to count the number of Joshes that appear on my Instagram feed, which definitely means the data collected is not going to be reliable, but whatever. After one week, I got a tally counter app, which increased the reliability of the data collected. However, this count should still be taken with a grain of salt because I think I counted on other social media apps once or twice, even though the scope was only on Instagram, and I stopped collating data at the end of the day after 1 week (I knew the number of Joshes in total, just not the number of Joshes per day). (Also I think you should take this with a grain of salt because this is literally a Josh Hutcherson count, not a serious academic study or anything haha) (and I liked those josh reels so the algorithm gave me more, which skews the data up)

Fortunately, I'm that one annoying friend who sends every single reel I see, so I also sent many of the Josh Hutcherson reels I encountered to my friends along with the number of Joshes at that point in time. One of my friends (@gghggabc) collected all of the Joshes that I sent to complete the data (absolute mad lad btw) and created a graph illustrating the trend in Josh appearances.

Without further ado, I present to you, the TOTAL NUMBER OF JOSH HUTCHERSONS I ENCOUNTERED IN 1+ MONTHS:

1562!!

yes. that's a lot but that is what i got.

GRAPHS!!

(ok low key 3 dec looks wrong idk what i was doing that day. but yeah that happened i guess)

Credits to @gghggabc for helping me do the graphs and collecting the data.

So, as you can see, the Josh Hutcherson Renaissance reached its peak in late November - early December (or according to my data at least) and then slowed down significantly in December. The cumulative graph became less and less steep until 31 December, when it came back up a little bit (I vividly remember seeing A BUNCH of Josh Hutcherson edits popping up on my feed as I was watching the New Year countdown. it was wild). There were a lot of fluctuations in the number of Joshes encountered per day, most likely due to different screen times and whether I interact with the Josh posts or not.

Average number of Josh per day: 40?

Min number of Josh encountered: 7

Max number of Josh encountered: 214 (thats insane i dont know if this is correct anymore thats way too much)

What are the conclusions?

Josh Hutcherson >>>

Memes are a very powerful thing

I should probably set things up more properly the next time I do one of these, maybe get ppl to join in too for a bigger sample size

I should continue to send my friends every single reel I see

Thank you for reading until the end!

[broken-clover]

ky whump anon: i was thinking strive era, but this was before the reveal that our catboy got woobiefied. so, morally gray asuka who while is cordial about sol’s allies/friends, he’s more heavy handed with them versus sol now. something about figuring out how the scales of juno can threaten his plans—so ky’s captured or something, for a just general lab/medical whump set up? asuka might be professional and not out to cause pain, but he’s not taking no for an answer lmk if you receive this ask and it didn’t get munched.

While it took me a while to flesh this one out, I finally come bearing words! Thank you kindly for your patience, anon, I hope the wait was worth it. Admittedly, I am not entirely finished, but I have at least completed the first two chapters in full, the first of which I'll post here. Asuka was a lot of fun to write! I liked trying to balance his well intentions and slight callousness from prior games.

As far as I can tell, currently this should be around 6-7 chapters long, possibly subject to change depending on how long things get, I'm going to see how it goes!

-

The treatments were not working. For all their initial confidence, King Ky only seemed to wither further and further by day.

The culprit was an obvious one, the ever-spreading blue-black veins that lit up his skin yet seemed to suck in all light nearby. A telltale sign of Gear cells running rampant in an infectee’s body, gradually tainting more and more human flesh. Still an irreversible condition after the crusades, only hardly slowed with even the most top-notch of magics and medicines

(His Majesty looked at the royal physicians with dismay and annoyance whenever they used words like ‘infect’ and ‘tainted.’ They were passed over in conversation, but remained unaltered in his medical files)

Ever since the debut of Dizzy to Illyria’s public, rumors had already run rampant among the various tabloids and salon gossip, but the idea that their beloved First King was something inhuman was one that stayed confined to the level of absurd housewife chatter, at least to the average citizen. King Ky, a Gear? Utter nonsense, how much have you drunk today? But it was true, every word. One of the biggest scandals in political history, obfuscated by its own absurdity.

It was for the best, really. Things could carry on as they normally did, with nobody the wiser of their own monarch’s rapidly-declining state.

Ky was not a man who took days off, nor one that would burden others with his own suffering. He hadn’t been. Now, after every daily speech was done, every necessary meeting dealt with, he hobbled down to the castle’s medical wing to fall into the arms of his personal caretakers, weakly whimpering for something, anything to ease the pain. They replied with syringes of painkillers and anticonvulsants, a line of fluids in one wrist, and soft, meaningless reassurances of his own strength and ability to weather it all. The only option available was palliative care, doing all they could to ease the symptoms of a disease that they could not cure.

“He shouldn’t be going out at all anymore. The strain only worsens the symptoms further.”

“I h-have to. I have to-” While some may have seen the king’s frail state as pathetic, the pained, warbling timbre in his voice was enough to find sympathy in the hardest of hearts.

“Don’t force yourself to speak.” One of the physicians stroked his face in a way that should have earned a scolding from his co-workers, but none of them could think of many better ideas to comfort him. “Give the medication a minute to take effect, it will be easier to talk if you need to.”

More often than not, by the time the medication kicked in, Ky was already half-conscious, unwilling- or incapable- to force himself awake and to power through. It left the staff to talk over his unresponsive body while they attended to him, distinctly more uneasy now that he wasn’t aware enough to notice it.

“There are no Gear specialists that we know to call. Even if we did, reaching out to them could prove disastrous. We have to keep this knowledge in a very close circle. We can’t risk anything.”

“And if our paranoia ends up killing him?” One asked, with a pointed glare.

Another stepped between the two, hands raised. “Fighting won’t do any good. Focus more on solutions, not more problems.”

“What solutions could there be that we haven’t already tried?” Asked another. “Transfusions, folk cures, exorcisms, we’ve done everything shy of amputating his arm and flaying half of his face!”

“There must be something, we just haven’t found it yet.”

“Come to the west entrance.”

“I’m certain there’s a test we-” The speaker paused. “Which one of you said that?”

They turned to one another, muttering.

“Come to the west entrance. I wish to speak with you.”

“Do you hear something?” The voice had not come from any of their mouths.

“I…I thought I was hallucinating. I thought the stress had finally gotten to me, do you all hear it too?”

“Yes. I am speaking to all of you. Come to the west entrance. It is better if we speak in person.”

“Telepathy.” One of them noted. “That’s…that’s not a magic many people are capable of.”

“I only know a couple of them. No offense to any of you, but I doubt you have that level of aptitude.”

Someone shook their head. “The only one offhand that I can think of would be…oh. Oh, no.”

“You mean…him?

“I don’t think any of us want to.” He replied.

“But it sounds like he’s already here."

++++++

With an epithet as vague as ‘That Man,’ perhaps it was only natural that rumors sprung up like weeds about what he was and what he did. Was he even a man? Was he even human?

He certainly cut an imposing figure. Though not particularly large, even by human standards, That Man radiated an intimidating, unsettling aura that none of them could fully explain. He hovered several feet off of the ground, arms spread and robes billowing like some twisted parody of the messiah. A chill unease passed over them.

“Your eyes…” His voice was soft, but snaked into their ears without issue. “I take it you’re familiar with me, then?”

“Everyone is.” One of the bolder among them managed to speak. “I daresay there’s few alive that don’t.”

“I see.” Not a judgment, not a refutation. Just a statement of fact.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” He replied. “There was an abnormal reading coming from this area, I sought to investigate.”

Someone scoffed.“You were stalking us then, I presume?”

“No such thing. I measure frequencies worldwide to ensure there are no concerns. If an issue is deemed important enough, I set out to intervene and fix it. I watch mankind to ensure everyone’s safety.”

The doctor glowered. “You are not God.”

“No. Nor do I claim to be.” Slowly, That Man shook his head. “If you must, then view me as a repentant devil. I do not ask for your praise. I do not even ask for your forgiveness. All I ask is for your cooperation, and even then, it will be a brief one.”

“And why, knowing that, would we willingly aid a self-professed demon?”

The hood shifted. Though the face was still hidden from view, he knew he was being stared at.

“Tell me, many of you are religious, are you not?”

“That’s correct.”

“Excellent. Are you familiar with the tale of Meridiana?”

He tilted his head. “The star?”

“The succubus.” That Man said. “Just a story, of course, but in the 12th-century work ’De nugis curialium,’ the author claimed the era’s Pope, Sylvester II, was aided and advised by a demon called Meridiana. It was claimed that she was the true source behind his power and wisdom.”

Someone asked, “What of it?”

“Pope Sylvester II was known for his endorsement of intellectual pursuits. He encouraged the study of mathematics and astronomy. Why would a succubus allow him to do so? Had that knowledge come from her in the first place?”

Another replied “Well, it’s just a story. I imagine it was meant to be satirical.”

“Oh, of course it was. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make.” The mage shook his head. “But I suppose we’ve wasted enough time already. I am here because I am the only one who can help you.”

“With what, exactly?”

“Don’t insult me with a question like that.” He replied. “You and I both know full well what brings me here. I wish to speak with your king.”

The group suddenly turned defensive. “He cannot speak with you right now.”

“I know,” That Man replied, nodding again. “I meant that moreso in the sense of formality. Likewise, I am going to see your king, whether you approve of my presence or not.”

“We can deny you audience.”

“Certainly you could. But, as I said, I do not care about your approval.”

“We can bar the doors and remove you from the premises.”

“No. You can’t.” Despite his words, the tone came off not as threatening, but as little more than lightly scolding a child. “I will say this once, if I truly believed you were any kind of real difficulty to handle, I would not so much as let myself be seen. Again, I am acting merely in the way formality deems appropriate. This is a matter of personal intrigue to me, and I do not care about your petty objections, well-meaning or not. Open the doors and bring me to your king, or I will do so on my own.”

“W-we…I…”

As committed as they were to their duties, none of them were deluded enough to genuinely believe they stood a chance against the fabled Gear Maker. With tension thick enough to cut through, the group stood just close enough to That Man in order to guide him into the castle. He was brought through the maze of corridors until they ended in the sterile monochrome of the medical ward.

That Man never slowed, never flinched, never even turned his head beneath the hood. Ky was in the same place that he had been left, flopped over on a cot with his eyes blurry and unfocused. Whether or not the painkillers were working was of no consequence, he looked too delirious to notice the difference.

Though several of them squirmed as the world’s most well-known criminal approached their monarch’s bedside, the best they could manage was halfhearted fumbling. That Man brushed a few locks of hair out of Ky’s face in order to get a better look.

“What information do you have?”

It took the staff several moments to realize that he was speaking to them, not to the unconscious Ky. “Nothing. Pretty much nothing. The pain comes and goes, it’s exacerbated by work, but that’s expected. The fevers come randomly. More recently, he’s been eating poorly. The nausea and vomiting come as arbitrarily as most of his symptoms do.”

“We keep testing for different problems, but nothing concrete so far.” Another said. “Or, perhaps, it’s entirely common, and we don’t know enough about Gear cells to make that call. I don’t suppose it’s the simple Gear equivalent of the flu, is it?”

“That's an idiotic question. Do you think I would come out here for something like that?”

“R-right. Erm. Forgive me.

“...Do you want me to save your king’s life?”

That immediately got everyone’s attention. “Of course- of course we do!”

The Gear Maker turned to face them. “Then I need you to promise me something in exchange: nobody is allowed to know about this. Not even the king himself. Never speak a word of this after we leave this room today, not to anyone. Today was an ordinary day. Nothing of any interest occurred.”

“‘Today?’ You can cure him today?”

“I never said that.”

They bit back a shout as That Man suddenly scooped Ky right from his bed. Several of them instinctively summoned weapons or reached for any nearby supplies that could be used as one, but the thought sank in quickly that there was nothing they could do that wouldn’t hurt their king. That was, if any of them could even land a scratch on the Gear Maker.

“W-what are you doing?!”

That Man hoisted the unconscious body in his arms and looked down. “I will take him. I will treat him. I cannot guarantee he will be cured, but I can still ease the pain.”

He vanished into a magic glyph. The medics were overcome with a sinking feeling of whether or not they had made the right decision. Now, they supposed, they couldn’t do anything to change it. All they could do was hope that they hadn't made a terrible mistake.

[all54321]

Father Spore Spy AU Info/Lore

Since a lot of stuff is written vaguely or not said at all, I’ve decided to make a post with just a bunch of random world info. Might add on to this later if something else becomes important later.

Starting off with the world they live in. It’s a mostly modern setting on an Earth-like planet. There’s some Minecraft stuff mixed in. Like their strongest weapons are just swords and bows and the like. There are also hybrids (part human part something else) around, while uncommon, seeing one isn’t a surprise to anyone. For example, Grian is an avian (human/bird), those infected by spores are not hybrids though.

Since this is a whole bigger world, there are a lot more people in it then just the hermits. Although all the season 7 hermits are close friends and have been for a while. Some longer then others, but by the election they’re all good friends.

Since Pearl joins the next season, she currently lives in a different town. Her and Grian are also siblings, therefor she’s also an avian.

I currently/occasionally refer to what’s happening as a resistance, since that’s what it was in Hermitcraft. Here it isn’t a resistance though. There is nothing personal about the attacks/spreading. It just so happens that the source of this is closer to this town and then any others.

More about the mycelium/hive mind: It’s more intelligent then most other plant species, but not at a human level. It struggles to travel out past the caves on its own, making it need outside help. When Scar fell in, it infected him to help spread it around. The cave it’s in is completely filled with spores, it’s just lighter the farther from the source. So Scar was infected pretty much right away, just not enough to fully turn him right away.

At the start, the hivemind was primarily controlled by the source, including Scar. Although the strongest influence it had over him was making him want to do what it wills him to do. So he could go against what it wants, but he doesn’t since he’s made to want it too. Scar eventually takes control over the hivemind since it can’t rival human intelligence. Scar can force people to do what he says, if he chooses to. Scar also protects the source with his life, he lets no one know where it’s at, hiding it near completely. It is in the dead center of the mycelium territory, so no one ventures that far. Those infected don’t know where to find it.

Now, on to how the mycelium effects others. Which is to say, it effects everyone differently, so here’s Scar and Grian.

Scar is extremely effected, having been turned by the primary source. He’s covered in a lot of mushrooms and his skin is even turning mycelium purple in places. Every part of his is infectious in some way, but he also emits a cloud of spores around him. He can control how much he releases. From anywhere between a little and an extreme amount (ie. filling an inclosed room in seconds). He changes it depending on the situation.

Grian is also very unique in how’s he’s effected. He gets fully transformed not long after inhaling enough of the spores, but his physical transformation is a lot slower. He only has a few mushrooms growing across his body, only some of his blood start being taken over by mycelium, making very few visible purple veins (a possible symptom), and just a few of his inside feathers turn purple. Although the more time he spends with Scar, the more he transform. He can hide most or that under baggy clothes and gloves. He extremely rarely shows the insides of his wings so that’s also easy to hide. After getting caught and living around Scar full time, it spreads a lot quicker/more obvious. Grian can only infect others by skin to skin contact. He also infects them with a unique strain of it, very slow acting (symptoms appearing after over a day), but harder to disinfect.

On the topic of disinfecting people, it takes a long while for the HEP to find a way to do that. At the farthest I’ve written, the most they can do is disinfect someone who recently got infected, they can’t infect someone fully transformed/connected to the hive mind. Disinfecting someone is extremely painful, even worse for those fully transformed and can’t be disinfected. They have no cure yet. They also don’t have a good way to disinfect someone who is infected by Grian, especially since he doesn’t infect others to keep his cover.

That’s all I can think of for now, or what I want to share, anyway. Might reblog with more later.

[talenlee]

Vox Maxima Gallery 4: The Jatku Outcasts

What would you give up, if it meant you had one more day? What would ytou consider an acceptable surrender in the name of salvation? What is it about your fundamental assumptions about your own ability to exist, your own continuity of life?

The Iacon have stitched steel to their skin. The Kraivh turn bones into machines. There are worse and older things hiding in the deep. What the question lingers, what would you do to live, survive, and thrive in a world where the air itself can become poison?

Thus is the question of the Jatku outcasts. The Jatku who stand outside of the Emperor’s forces. The Jatku whose Process is considered heresy, and whose very name is considered a swear. The Jatku who the Emperor refuses to refer to as a faction, claiming they befoul the name of his daughter and her mother – the great mage researcher Jatku herself. The faction that calls itself The Million Eyes.

Vox Maxima is a custom magic set created by Talen Lee. It’s composed of 187 cards, with 71 commons, 60 uncommons, 41 rares, and 15 mythic rares. Vox Decima is a custom Magic: The Gathering set, with at least one card spoiled a day, on Cohost, Kind.Social, and the r/custommagic subreddit.

WOTC Employees: This post in full presents unsolicited custom Magic: The Gathering card designs, which I understand current employee practices forbid you from looking at unsolicited. You shouldn’t be here!

The Jatku are an external force to the empire but they are infiltrating it constantly. The thing is, the Jatku are people who have transferred their souls into bugs. Not into a bug, but into bugs. Each Jatku is a colony of insects – sometimes shared across multiple souls – that can interface and exchange, and the ‘central body’ is just a convenient form they maintain for some reason, like they like how it tastes food. This is the case for characters advanced through the Process – but there are other characters who aren’t quite there.

This is what the Undying represents; you kill a Jatku they just bring a stronger version of the same body back. Nobody has just one body, nobody is just one form. Everyone has more ways to be a threat, and in the case of longstanding figures in the faction like Bolbo, they have countless bodies.

The Jatku tangibly and actively hate and hunt the Empire and its signs of power. This is not necessarily well understood: Why do these people hate the Empire, what did the empire do? Well, for a lot of Jatku they don’t know either – many of them have forgotten as well. But a lot of them do remember – their memories spread out across enough of a swarm that not all of them forgot, and have brought some of it together again to explain. There are at least two great hatreds for the Jatku:

They hate what the Emperor has done to Jatku’s human body

They know the Emperor has done something else to cause the damage to the world.

Here we also see two more developments of the plot and the characters – Cura is one of the core group’s members, except she wasn’t a bug who could eat people back then. What’s going on there? Story stuff. Also, we get introduced to Ksen, amongst other very angry Jatku people. Ksen is described as Jatku’s heir, but also, she in her time in the story learns about the Necrocalypse. So part of what happened in the Lost Decade is the actual Necrocalypse happened. That’s strange, that doesn’t match the timeline, and if it happened, why is everything still – mostly – intact?

Some card-by-card-notices:

Coronat was designed art first. I had slot for a GUB legendary creature but I liked the idea of this artwork representing a very patient, slow and implacable hunter who would just wait until you showed a moment of weakness then ate you. She’s also extremely tricky to word, and very tight – I basically wanted her to only hunt things that could attack and didn’t. And there just aren’t a lot of 1/7 bodies in the game.

Amber Glade Guard continues the attempts to present land acceleration and ramp in a format without the word ‘shuffle.’

Ksen uses poison counters to stop you just wanting to cast the Necrocalypse constantly. If you cast her and fire the Necrocalypse off, you die before anyone else does. The funny thing is, it’s so not worth doing anything else with Poison counters if she’s your strategy – there are better commanders for actually taking players out. In this case, the Poison is a resource to make Ksen cheaper and to also give people a reason to keep her around.

Belisari has another one of those unique wording things; she has protection from ‘the player she’s attacking.’ As soon as she’s attacking, you have no window to actually do anything about it, and at that point she can’t be blocked or targeted in other ways. I think this is a genuinely interesting mechanism for a protection power.

I think the Chitin Shredder is one of the best in the cycle of big brutes that turn into lands if you need them early on, and I think its drawback is really legit. I deadset think that there’s a body of people who would not run the risk of giving your opponents a sacrifice outlet like that, and they can use it every turn. You can use it on your own turn too! It’s just there, free, if anyone wants it!

Elise is continuing our weird planeswalkers? She doesn’t have an ultimate, but she can either sit back and exploit openings your opponents present, or she can make some of her own. She is very simply, without more ornate help, a 2/1 for 2 that can’t block or be blocked, which black can get, and it’s not actually that special when you get her. On the other hand, once you’ve made good on threatening other people with attackers, she can sit back and exploit their brains.

Jatku herself is the enchantment, because Jatku, the researcher, has transcended human limits. She is now a million eyes and more, she is in so many of these bugs, one great and vast network of meat internet that can be everywhere and do everything. It’s hard for her to talk to her daughter or her body, of course – oh, her body? Yeah, her body is wandering around. Look, there’s a necromancer emperor around here, what are you expecting?

B’aktu was an incredibly contentious card to post to reddit! Basically, some people got really confidently wrong about how the card works, and I got to watch as two hundred comments spilled out of trying to explain to people the rules that they, again, very confidently got going. It was a strong reminder of what reddit is.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!