#i promise the ending is suppose to imply that this is genuine and good and happy

[clitorphosis]

SPIT TO SEE THE SHINE

Vendetta Leon S. Kennedy x reader |18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON, smut, age gap (reader is in 20s, Leon is 37) female reader, abusive relationship, implied alcoholism, stockholm syndrome, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, use of ‘daddy’ (not a lot), implied erectile disfunction lmao, victim blaming, fingering, implied physical and sexual violence, forced breeding.

Summary: life gets lonelier after 30s, the realization hits harder Leon and the way to cope with it is to get his hands on alcohol… too bad booze tends to encourage him to not be a good man - ending up with a younger girl in his apartment. Maybe it is a grave mistake, but Leon is just a man and who doesn’t make them? notes: uhm, this may be a lil bit self indulgent, sorry for that :3 I DONT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOR IN REAL LIFE!!! reblogs, asks and any kind of feedback or interaction are really appreciated! :3

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Mama has told you not to trust strangers, the concern was referred to the men, but your ears have never held her words for a time longer than a day. Nor did you remember her words when an attractive, older man noticed you and was nice enough to ask you out. That night was supposed to be a little date, giddy and happy jumping into the front seat of his car. That’s the last thing you remember. Eventually, you can not fathom how this happened - the day later your head hurt as you were forced to swallow the hard pill: you got kidnapped by your date.

The first month was insufferable and painful, slowly growing out of your ‘rebellious attitude’ and memorizing his body language like a child in an abusive household. His gaze is everywhere, keeping you locked up in the room when he is not present, a reminder to you that there is no free choice. The food, clothes, and your free time were defined by Leon’s mood and taste which… Liked to swing, creating a mess for you both, not knowing if he was genuinely ashamed of what he had done. You hated him, dreaming about the day when his throat would be sliced, painting your hands with red just to breathe in the air of freedom.

Mama knows best. No, Leon knows best.

Sometimes Leon is mean, without hesitation, sharp words can be thrown at you when he is drunk. Blaming his misery on you. Trying not to be affected by them, not enough to avoid some of them as they cling to your mind - circling as a reminder.

“You deserve this, what did you think a man would want from a woman?”,

“you are better dead”,

“you asked for this”. Did you actually?

Sometimes he is the nicest guy around here. Showering you with tenderness and care, trying to have a normal conversation, but not daring to look into your eyes. Ashamed probably, which was bittersweet and pleasant, but confusing too. Like a couple. You promised yourself to not change the way you feel about him, even if he is sweet. Not like you have a lot of options now.

Certainly, Stockholm syndrome wasn’t going to avoid you, it didn’t take long either. You aren’t special and Leon looked so lonely, returning after work mostly devastated. The expression someone would have had while grieving over something not obtainable. Not even daring to look into your face, ignoring you until his hands do not reach the booze - drinking himself until his mood changes to a handsy one. Physical or sexual. Sometimes both. And Leon is lonely, he told it himself once. Naturally or not, anger has changed to pity, while hate is mixed with something affectionate towards him. You can’t help yourself.

As someone has said - from love to hatred is one step.

So the routine has become clear after a month of staying here, sitting on the floor and watching TV while Leon is behind you. Big brother is watching you - no, Leon is watching you. Drunk or not, monitoring whatever is on the screen is appropriate in his eyes. Not for too long you were concentrating on the blue gleam coming from the screen, illuminating both frames in the living room, now like a natural thing for you both - his fingers end up in your panties to rub your clit in slow and lazy circles. His chest is pressing against your back, focused on your expressions and squirming. His calloused fingertips press harder against your sensitive clit, to hear your voice. Your body is the biggest enemy here - like a Pavlovian dog, reacting to his touch quickly and eagerly. The skin of his fingers is wet and soaked with your slick already, in no time, filling the room with squelching and wet sounds as your moans become harder to keep to yourself. Writhing and trying to shift away, but your body tends to become immobile most of the time - there is no fight or flight, just freeze.

“You look so miserable. It is reassuring, so cute too” In misery, together. His tone is the one someone would use for a dog. Always using that one with you, but you are not a dog. Not like you have any other choices right now, other than taking like a good girl and not lamenting.

If someone would have asked you, Leon is shameless with you, not the one to be shy after a bottle of whiskey, even if he can’t get it up sometimes. His fingers nudge your soaked hole, which aches for his attention. It clenches around nothing, pathetically and you disappointedly whine at the emptiness inside you.

“Come on, open your legs, be a nice girl for Daddy” Leon cooed. His lips brush over your ear, not giving you a chance to do this by yourself - forcing your legs roughly to part wider. “So much better now”

Your hips shift, arching your back as his two fingers intrude into your pussy, curling sweetly inside it to push them at your favorite sweet spot - to enforce more moans at every jolt of pleasure hitting your body. Leon likes that, watching you squirm and open your mouth like a fish desperate for air cause of him. His grip on your jaw is tight, painful even - there are going to be bruises tomorrow and he will be apologizing like a madman.

“Daddy has been so miserable these days too, fucking Redfield is always hassling me.” You don’t know who is that. The sound of his hand fumbling with his belt and the fly of his jeans reach your ears, a loud noise of them falling on the floor. “Can’t even have a vacation, what would you do without me, baby?”

“Ughh…!” you choke on your moans. There is no thought behind your eyes, your entire attention is on your pleasure. Feeling overwhelmed at every thrust of his fingers, writhing in his hold while he is roughly pumping into your drenched hole, an uncomfortable wetness clings to your inner thighs - begging to fuck you already.

“Fuck, I am so sorry, sweetheart, but you are so wet. I can’t. Just the tip, okay? Sorry,” he groans breathlessly, giving hot and quick kisses on the side of your head. Sweet touch. His gaze darkens and his body presses harder against yours, feeling his erection press against your ass. “just… this hole is dripping, and you don’t look like you don’t want it”

You are so close actually, every thrust hitting your sweet spot, curling, and keeping the quick pace of his fingers make you almost drool while focusing on approaching orgasm. Too bad that isn’t on his to-do list. As much as he wants to see you cum, on his fingers or not, - his own pleasure is much more important, especially when his dick is hard. Whiskey dick isn’t so easy to get up these days. His fingers roughly withdraw from your soaked hole with a squelching pop, denying your orgasm. The emptiness returns and your sensitive pussy clenched around nothing again - aching to be filled again.

“So messy,” Leon mutters out, shoving his index and middle fingers in your mouth - forcing you to clean them, your tongue rolls and wraps around them, tasting yourself before he finally pulls them away. “asking for bad things to happen”

You can swear to God this made your clit throb. Wetter than you can ever be, or you are hallucinating, hoping this isn’t the case. Thoughts are quickly brushed aside when his cock is pressed in between your pussy lips, bumping against your aching clit while he rubs himself against your soaked and needy cunt that coats his flesh in your slick, lubing his length in it before he pushed his cock into you - Leon is not really a patient man. Yeah, just the tip, of course. Your velvety walls easily swallow his cock, stretching inch by inch with pleasant pain and letting it slide as he pushed in quick motion until his cock got buried deep inside you. Balls pressed against your flesh, while you can’t help but tightly clench around him, his chest is pressed against your back. Relishing how tight and warm is your pussy, the best and most calming feeling for Leon - to fill you with his cock for his own pleasure. Your hair gets tugged roughly, making your head roll back while Leon starts moving slowly. His cock drags against your walls, pulling out until only a tip remains inside.

“See? Only a tip” Leon mocks you, before slamming back in, bottoming out in one thrust. You whimper and squirm, but his hold on your hair is hard - the only way to keep you under his control. His hips start pounding into you, falling deep into the pleasure connecting your bodies. “Your pussy just feels so good, weren’t you made for this, mmm?”

His movements stutter as his pace slowens when his blue eyes make eye contact with the TV. You didn’t really catch on what was happening until his hand tugged your hair, directing your half-lidded gaze to the point of his interest. The sight of your image on the news, big words on the red background: MISSING PERSON. The former shelf of yourself is staring at you both, smiling brightly - not knowing there is no future for you. The volume is turned off. In this household, it is common knowledge that Leon doesn’t let you watch the news, every time getting agitated and avoiding you even more, when sober, which doesn’t last long after that. The mood swing was quick, every time it was like a loud thunderstorm, his hips make another thrust - cock hits your cervix and forces out a loud moan, involuntarily, when Leon’s cockhead grinds against it.

“This is bullshit, you know?” He hisses into your ear, giving another rough thrust to make you gasp pathetically, as he presses your head against the TV screen. “no one is coming for you. Why? Cause you are forgettable, baby, no one needs you”

“S-stop, Leon” you mumble in between moans and trying to keep yourself aware of what is happening. “T-too much, p-please!”

Your body feels like it is on fire due to the mix of emotions he provokes, your cunt grips his cock tightly while aching for your denied orgasm from before. His hand gives a hard slap on your sensitive clit, making you arch and flinch. Your pussy flutters, gripping him tighter.

“Shhh, I am doing a favor here” he mutters, yanking your head back, forcing you to look at the news while his pounding grew more erratic, intensifying wet and flesh-hitting sounds. His voice is loud in your ears, muffling other sounds, overwhelming as his cock keeps making rough thrusts into you with every word - to punctuate them. “Keeping you here, taking care of useless you that can’t do anything right”

He buries himself deep again, pausing again to relish in the feeling of his cock filling you, while your wet walls engulf him nicely - like a drug, inviting him to stay there and never pull away. Slick drips down your thighs, and his nose brushes behind your ear before nibbling on the soft cartilage. His hand gives another light slap on your pussy, the tightness of your walls almost makes him cum.

“Maybe a baby, what do you think about it, mm?” The idea makes him throb, sliding in and out more erratically. As if he cares about your opinion right now, his fingers tug your hair harder, but his words make you flinch harder. Tears prick behind your eyelids.

“No-no-no. You can’t cum inside, no!” He is not wearing a condom. Bad, too bad. Begging comes out naturally for you now, in between your moans. Fear coats your voice, as the idea sets in quickly - being trapped here cause of an unfortunate kid. “Not the baby! Leon, please! I’ll be good, please!”

“Of course, I can. Shut up. You like this” Leon hisses, keeping your head in a firm hold, so your eyes are set on the old photo. It doesn’t feel right, but you can’t stop yourself from making noises, shifting so Leon would hit a better angle. This somewhat combines with a shame, at every hint of it your mind shoves it away. “You can’t look at yourself, too bad. Dripping even more after my words, like a whore.“

Wanting to cum, focusing more on the pleasure of his dick filling your hole - feels so wrong, but good. Like your body shouldn’t enjoy how Leon’s hips keep pounding into your soaked cunt, hitting the pudgy spot and making you repeat his name like a prayer, but your own mind and body are the biggest enemy, betraying you. His own balls tighten, as a reminder of his so soon approaching orgasm.

“You love me right, baby?” Leon whispers, voice coming out breathy and brushing against your ear shell. His calloused fingers crawl back to your clit, flicking and rubbing it roughly and unsteadily. Trying to keep the feeling of that warm tightness sucking in his cock.

“I love you, Leon, o-oh!” you hum, nibbling on the lower lip and arching, letting more noises when his dick hits your sweet spot so sloppily and messy now, chasing his orgasm. And him circling your clit with his calloused fingertips makes your legs tremble - so close to tripping and falling flat on the floor. This makes your mind fuzzy, shoving away the fear of being pregnant. Leon is nice, right? Nice enough to push you against the cold screen of the TV, it doesn’t have its use anymore. That photo faded with the news, after all. “I love you, love you,”

Your voice comes out shaky and high-pitched now. His eyes are set on your disheveled look, with light traces of tears as you repeat the confession erratically, filling his mind with them. Making this normal, you love him, so he can allow himself to not feel so guilty, right? With a final and rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, giving chaste and soft kisses to the back of your head. Your body shudders eventually too, your walls spasm harder around him as the hard feeling of orgasm hits you, pleasant shockwaves dumb every bad thought in the head. His cock throbbed, letting a loud groan and finally spurting ropes of cum into you while keeping messy circles on your sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you more overwhelmed with every flick. The warm essence fills your hole, Leon pulls out his softening cock with a wet pop, watching how his sperm slowly oozes out from your pussy. His mind is light, the hint of booze keeps guilt from emerging.

Words of love don’t feel like a complete lie now, as pleasant memories overwhelm the bad ones. They become almost an empty spot in the back of your mind, leaving only a foggy feeling of hate and dread. And your brain is weak for the bliss, hammering every moment deep in you - craving for more. Hate won’t bring you out of this, maybe affection will. Your hand grips weakly his wrist, you won’t be able to bear the loneliness after sex tonight.

“Don’t leave me” Your mouth is quicker than your mind, not processing anything right now. Leon breaks out in a weak smile, but his gaze isn’t capable of keeping eye contact right now. Still, he scoops you in his arms without a second thought. Remaining silent, feeling your weak body in his hold he can’t help but pepper chaste kisses on your forehead. Trying to prolong the sweet and guiltless moment for you both.

You should have known better than to accept that date with him.

[cloverandstuff]

New comic released, and it's about Till and his mom, whose name is apparently Io; lets fucking break this down.

So basically, this whole comic breaks the regular pattern where the person's death or plans to die are mentioned.

Instead, the whole thing is mainly focused on Till and how hopeful his mother was for him. It doesn't even hint at the death, it's just Till finding himself in music, and art.

Till loved music. He loved singing.

And his mother was terrified of that.

She was only supposed to be the provider for Till. Basically his creator and nanny until he showed enough promise to be a human pet.

But still, the mother cared and she cared so much, she didn't stop him from doing what he loved.

Even though she knew that the day would come that the aliens would take away Till, she still let him sing cause it brought him so much joy.

It's also made clear that these people, whereever or whatever theyre meant to be, aren't educated at all.

Io doesn't know what singing is, and she thinks of then as cries. She only sees them on stage, where they are cruelly ended.

She doesn't even know what motherly instincts are meant to be. She's curious about whether or not other providers feel this way as well.

All she knows is to pray to the Anakt for the safety of her child. This religious theme plays a larger role in everything. ( And I am unsure if this is a system implemeted to control people or if the aliens genuinely believe it.)

And once she is taken away from her child, she hopes that there are traces of her left behind. Which it seems to be the case, with the comic strongly implying that his art is very much connected to his mom.

It's also stated that her wish was for Till, which she didn't even know was his name, to not be a lonely child.

And we, as an audience, are shown that he did not grow to be a lonely child. He made friends, who surrounded him, and cared about him.

I also kinda find it funny that out of everyone, Till is the only one who had a good relationship with his blood family.

He had a mother who, even if she didn't know what it was, loved him and doted on him just like a mother should. She protected him and his happiness for as long as she was allowed and seemingly fought back when he was taken from her.

I am curious if Io is still alive. Till looks identical to her, so if she does see him on screen, she'll probably know he's hers. And considering they show the Alien Stage show where she's trapped, it's not out of the realm of possibility that she saw the Final Round.

[venus-is-thinking]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 16: Initial Thoughts

Sorry for missing episode 15 :(

That being said, oh my god, Chapter 2 is actually complete! This is so exciting! I'm really hyped to talk about this episode and give my not-live summary of my live reactions!

SPOILER WARNING FOR DRDT THROUGH THE END OF CH 2!!!

CW: Murder, sacrifice, suicide

The Reactions

12-1, this time. I'm still personally partial to the extra vote on Teruko last Trial being Arei (being petty about her "I'm voting for you no matter what" thing), so I would assume Ace is the Teruko vote. If so, I do think it's interesting that he voted Teruko as opposed to, like, Nico. Then again, it might be that it's just more convenient for DRDTdev to consistently put the extra vote on Teruko, lol.

Notably, the dead people have "N/A," not 0. We probably could tell this because of Xander last time, but I didn't check. I wonder if this implies we won't ever need to vote for someone dead (ex. a mastermind who "died" earlier in the killing game).

I'm free... I can read whatever Eden says as genuine...

Take THAT, Whit time loop theorists /j

I do think it's funny/kinda telling? that Whit is only saying this after the trial is over. Like, I feel like the normal time to go "oh my god we're having another trial" is, like... when you find the body? So, it's interesting that his reaction is so delayed.

So, I don't know if this was an intentional parallel, but...

These feel similar to me. I really like the Ace/Arei parallels, where they're both chronically hated people, but Arei apologizes and tries to change whereas Ace lets the fear and paranoia consume him until there's no turning back. Ace only says this after he's already been found guilty of murder; Arei says this before promising to change her ways to the victim of her bullying.

Teruko out here hopping on that self-blame train.

It's so funny how different Hu's standards are when talking about Ace's murder vs. Nico's attempted murder. Like... Hu this is what everyone was telling you like an hour ago. What.

It's really interesting that we're highlighting this line. I wonder if this is part of a theme that we're going to explore further, maybe tied into the "all murderers have to be punished" thing. Or maybe Eden isn't actually accurate here, but doesn't know it; has Ace killed someone in the past?

Fun trick you can do here!

When we first met Teruko a week ago, she was the same person, certainly, but she was also different. She was happier, and she trusted people more.

There are so many good character parallels in DRDT. The Ace/Teruko one was really interesting in this post-trial.

Ooh, new flavor of J anti-murder! This seems to be broadening it to also being critical of the killing game, which would go against my weird hypothetical "J is anti-murderer but also the mastermind" read.

It's interesting, with how this is Ace's logic. It makes total sense for his character, though. I think it's easy for us, the viewers, to forget the fact that the characters probably don't have the precedent of "every blackened ever always loses." When Ace is running the odds, he thinks his survival odds were better as a killer than as a participant in the killing game. And y'know, considering how close he came to dying as Nico's victim, that's kinda fair.

I desperately want to know what Levi was going to say here.

I really like the fact that Ace DID care about Levi. That he intrinsically cares about him, but he knows factually that he isn't supposed to like or trust someone in a killing game. That once he killed Arei, he had to resolve to kill everyone in the killing game, even Levi.

The only way Ace knew to prevent himself from caring was to stay mad, I guess. Kinda unfortunate though, considering that I do think Levi wanted to patch things up with him genuinely.

Meanwhile, Levi, who doesn't understand emotions, is just like "man what the fuck. That makes no sense."

What a pair. I'm sad we're not going to get to see their dynamic anymore :(

In other words, I'm back on the Levi survivor train baby! My biggest problem with it before was that I thought Ace was gonna survive and I didn't think Ace and Levi were both gonna survive, so now we're locking tf in!

This is fun! I always wonder why more people don't try stuff like this. Like... shoot your shot. You're gonna die otherwise, soooo...

Great animation as always

I think it's really funny that Teruko is so fucking mad that she bullies Ace into action. Like, that's so fitting for both of them.

I love using this David expression here. He's just like, "was it that easy? Why was I trying to throw the trial then???"

aaaaAAAAAAAA--

What the fuck!! XF-Ture mention!!!!!!!!

I like the spooky vibe MonoTV has for this post-trial, but I do hope we get our normal silly lil guy back next chapter. I like the MonoTV personality we see all the time. I'm gonna miss it if it just died like that :(

I am also squinting so hard at everyone's reactions through "who is the mastermind" goggles. Maybe I'll analyze them in a different post sometime.

Fascinating purpose. Not "to create despair." Not "to run the killing game until only one participant survives." To kill everyone.

Does this include whichever mastermind?

Why does whoever programmed MonoTV want to kill all of these people? Are they being punished for something?

This countdown sequence fucked me up. The tensions and emotions are so high. Even as someone who was confident that Teruko, at least, wasn't going to die no matter what, I was so on edge. I got really scared that Eden was going to take the hit for Teruko, though, and that's what I was reading into when I wasn't sure Eden would make it to Chapter 3.

This speech, more than any other one Teruko has made or any actions she's taken or endured, really made me feel for Teruko. The fact that she can so casually talk about truly traumatic and horrific things happening to her, while smiling, truly shows how much she's grown used to it. Like, girl. You don't deserve this. What.

The character work on Teruko especially this episode is just fantastic. No words.

This panel stressed me out so bad because it was really just a question of WHO took the bullet for Teruko. Like, if she's thinking this, someone clearly did.

My bets were on either Eden, Charles, or Ace.

Levi, though, was such a surprise to see. Like, in a good way. It means so much.

First of all, it's a callback to the end of the prologue. Levi attacks MonoTV, and when MonoTV tries to kill him in response, Teruko's danger sense alerts her. It's only through Teruko warning Levi to move that Levi dodged the main attack, resulting in only an arm injury rather than death. Now, Levi returns her favor, preventing her from dying from attacking MonoTV.

Second, it puts Ace into the position we see of having to confront the possibility of Levi's death. I got the distinct sense that they wanted Ace to be able to do something heroic on his way out, to prove all the haters wrong (which is why I thought it was possible he'd take the hit for Teruko instead of Levi). By putting Levi, pretty clearly the person he cares most about, into harm's way, it makes Ace take action. It means that he HAS to confront the fact that he cares Levi, and that he has to die.

And, thirdly... I am so fascinated to learn why Levi did this. Was it as simple as a transactional, "you saved me from execution before?" Is it "I thought saving someone would make me a good person?" Does Levi actually feel some remorse for Teruko in this moment, causing him to take action?

No matter what his reasoning, I can't wait to hear from him. I strongly suspect Levi won't actually die from this (at the very least, I hope not, because I really want to hear more from him), but even if he does, hopefully we'll still get some more insight in a bonus episode or a flashback or something.

I'm trying to figure out what triggered Whit here.

This is immediately following "The elevator won't open," but it also definitely can just correlate to "[person] will die if they don't receive immediate medical treatment." I have to assume that something here is reminding Whit of his mom...?

With the weird "Whit knows a lot about hanging" earlier, I got the impression that Whit's mom probably hung herself. From this, I would probably theorize that Whit found her while she was still alive, but not quickly enough to save her. Yikes.

Anyways, I think that means everyone has some kind of despair sprite now! That's fun!

o7

I'm sure many have pointed this out, but do we think he's counting himself here (Arei + Ace + Levi = 3), or do we think he feels responsible for someone else's death in his past (probably Taylor)? I'd lean towards the second one.

Y'know, before I thought Arturo was just pressed about the surgeon thing because people were unfairly hating on him. This, at least, I think implies something relating to Felicity.

Arturo doesn't have any experience saving lives. He left, and Felicity died. He can't save lives; he's only responsible for Felicity's ending. I think that's how he sees it.

On a side note, I think there's a very definite possibility that Chapter 3 cold opens on Arturo saving Levi's life??? Like, how Chapter 2 started with Eden POV, I think Chapter 3 could start with Arturo taking his shot at healing Levi, eventually resulting in Levi stabilizing. I'm not sure who would be there with him. Possibly Hu, since she was leading the "let's get Levi to the infirmary" effort...?

I love executions like this. Accirax has said before that the best executions are what make their recipient feel the most despair, and that's definitely what they did with Ace here. Put the talent aside; fear is what Ace fears the most.

Uhhhh. I'm pulling an Accirax. Part 2 in reblog!

[tea-stained]

we NEED to talk about Cioccolata and Secco.

they are so fucked up. and so beautiful. their chemistry does things to me. the way they interact, think about each other, the way they perceive each other, it's so interesting. i love how disgusting they are. i love the way they are portrayed. i love everything about them.

Cioccolata is this absolutely sadistic, awful piece of shit human being, willing to do everything and anything to satisfy this morbid curiosity of his, never looking at anyone's feelings, probably never experiencing empathy for all of his life, checking just where the breaking point for people is, as if that was the only thing that matters in this wretched world. as a child he'd get pristine grades, constant praise. no faults, it would seem. none at all. i love how he pretty much has no real reason or explanation for his actions, other than a mere it's fun, it's interesting. it's so... cold. so horrifying. so raw, so real.

at the same time, this man is so unbelievably loving towards Secco; is it because he is the only one who understands this passion? because this is the only one who accepts him for who he is? the only one who has seen this side of him without dying or ignoring it? or is it because of that ass NONONO back on track. i am so in love with this contrast. he loves Secco dearly and deeply, no doubt in that. he cares about him, just as much as himself - yes, this selfish man! yes, this man who would murder innocent people in cold blood because of curiosity! yes, this man who would make the elderly kill themselves just for his sick, twisted idea of fun! he takes extra care - knowing it might cost him his life if he makes any sounds - just to send Secco a voice message, praising, reassuring, guiding him. and, honestly? the second voice message feels so heartfelt. "You need to let go". "Only you can do this". Cioccolata probably knows he's as good as dead at this point. these are not the actions or words of someone who is really, truly just using someone. he doesn't need to do any of this. and yet, he goes an extra mile, only to increase Secco's chances of survival.

and when Secco realises, he's... furious. he's mad. they were going to be invincible. undefeatable. this was supposed to prove them more powerful than the boss himself! how dare Cioccolata lose? this feels like an attempt at disconnecting himself from Cioccolata fully. if he says Cioccolata was weak, he is still strong. Secco is better, he didn't lose. it's so defensive.

but now, what really, really gets me about Secco's reaction is a specific line:

"That's why I felt safe following your orders."

safe.

this makes me feel so much. so, so, so much!! it makes me wonder about Secco. so much is unknown about him, but this implies lack of the general feeling of safety in his life before meeting Cioccolata. i can't help but wonder, just how he became his patient... and how they managed the get along.

Secco confessing this means so much. you don't just feel safe around anyone. i do genuinely believe he is mad at Cioccolata for losing, but this also reads like a breakdown, somehow. grief is weird. denial is weird. anger is weird. especially when they all melt together.

to Secco, by dying, Cioccolata is betraying every promise he's ever made.

but at the same time, Secco is emotional. Secco is the type of person to just get carried away by whatever he feels.

i'm in love with the way he's drawn, animalistic like that, his teeth, spit. how nothing is visible other than his eyes and mouth. it's such an interesting choice, much like him stuttering and admitting that Cioccolata tossing sugar cubes is also something he felt safe because of.

they did love each other.

and i feel like it's somewhat poetic, how they both end up in the "combustible trash" truck. at the end, they are both worthy of each other. same trash. that's why i love them.

i can't stop re-reading the chapters they appear in. i need to rewatch their episodes, too, they are straight up calling me.

[ratsetflummi]

Okay, now the FUNNIEST Legend of Drizzt moments. *gets popcorn*

uhhh, how much time do you have?

i need to put this under a read more, because i ended up finding one scene per book on average

told you that this series is actually a comedy

1) that time when drizzt thought that three lighting bolts aimed directly at his face were just a friendly sparring session, and then immediately got distracted and forgot all about that attempted assassination because he saw a cat

2) drizzt and zaknafein both going "oh no, he is lost to the evil ways of our people, i would do the world a service by killing him" at each other, but not doing anything about it

3) the first thing we ever learn about jarlaxle being that he has special gay pride merch that is enchanted so you can still see that it's supposed to be a rainbow even in complete darkness

4) that one human wizard drizzt ran into in the middle of the underdark. just. that wizard's entire existence. why does he have a german accent. why does he keep shooting lightning bolts out of his tower when they keep being reflected back at him. rip brister fendlestick, you were only in that one scene, but i miss you every day

5) the mindflayers going "fwoop!" when they shoot a blast of brain melting energy at you

6) drizzt: who are you? you are not my father! zombie!zaknafein: no, i am your… mother!

7) drizzt learning what a skunk is

8) that one wizard that entreri was travelling with in streams of silver messing up her knock spell and dropping entreri's belt instead, and entreri going against what you would expect from his archetype in that kind of story (which would be getting angry and possibly violent) and just sarcastically going "oh wow, great job" and calmly picking his belt up again

9) drizzt casually revealing that he can juggle, suggesting that either he juggles as a hobby (unlikely) or implying some interesting things about drow weapon training

10) entreri choosing to put sewer water in his mouth just to gain little tactical advantage (and then still losing the fight anyway)

11) entreri showing up disguised as regis, dropping his own name in conversations weirdly often under the assumption that the companions are way more worried about him than they actually are, and the companions being completely oblivious about regis acting way differently than normal

12) entreri's insistence that he and drizzt are great rivals, while drizzt can barely be bothered to remember that entreri exists

13) drizzt training a seal to retrieve guenhwyvar's figurine from the bottom of the ocean

14) the heart-shaped drizzt-seeking locket. the fact that that exists, as well as the fact that entreri had that back in the peak rivalry days

15) entreri casually introducing himself as mister do'urden for absolutely no good reason (i genuinely still don't know why he did that)

16) jarlaxle: kimmuriel, you are the leader of the bregan d'aerthe now, i'm going on a road trip with entreri kimmuriel: i'm what?! entreri: you're doing what?!

17) entreri going to the effort of painting jarlaxle's silhouette on the wall to throw knives at the crotch

18)

19)

20) jarlaxle being peak peacock in promise of the witch-king

21) jarlaxle throwing pies at a random couple in a bakery because he mistook them for assassins

22) the reveal that jarlaxle and kimmuriel were just casually watching entreri fuck his girlfriend

23) the several scenes in pirate king where salvatore seemingly forgot that regis is a halfling, because drizzt keeps putting his arm around regis' shoulders and walking away like that, when really regis' shoulders should be down somewhere around drizzt's knees

24) a manifestation of mielikki coming to carry catti-brie to the afterlife, catti-brie responding that she needs to go sleep with her husband first, and mielikki allowing this and just coming back for her in the morning

25) entreri and dahlia behaving in a way that i can only describe as two teenage girls fighting over their mutual crush

26) the entire scene when they threw charon's claw into the primordial pit and entreri failed to die

27) drizzt: come on an adventure with me! entreri: drizzt, it's two in the fucking morning, what the fuck

28) drizzt making puppy eyes at entreri so he will please go on an adventure with him and entreri just closing the door in his face

29) the entire soap opera that was drizzt and dahlia's relationship

30) kimmuriel walking in on jarlaxle sleeping with at least two drow of undisclosed gender and just standing there and staring until jarlaxle finally puts on his trousers

31) jarlaxle's constant innuendos and seeming inability to shut up about his sex life

32) jarlaxle looking completely calm and composed from the outside at all times, but any scene from his pov revealing that he has no idea what he is doing and is lowkey panicking half the time

33) catti-brie: drizzt is my husband, i have been brought back to life to help him and not for anything else bruenor: yeah, same! uh, except that he isn't my husband

34) the dragons flirting with drizzt and drizzt kinda panicking about how to reject them without being eaten as revenge

35) jarlaxle finding drizzt down in a tunnel fighting demons, and just pulling an entire fine dining set out of his hat and having fancy dinner while his bird is ripping more demons apart just around the corner

36) the reveal that jarlaxle is bald because of repeated fireballs to the face

37) this instance of everyone rolling nat1s on their geography check

38) jarlaxle threatening people with knowledge of his kinks

39) random citizen: she's so pretty jarlaxle: yes, thank you, finally someone who recognizes my beauty

[frvnkcastles]

YOU CAN LET IT GO ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You have never really been treated right, not until Frank comes along. He makes it his mission to show you love the best he can.

Warnings: She/her pronouns and feminine nicknames used, implied PTSD, past trauma, language

Word count: 2.3k

Author’s note: This is straight outta my life lmaoo, I suppose at this point I’m just writing for the traumatized girlies. I wish Frank was real :(

Frank didn’t find himself all that charming or special. His goal in life for the longest time had been to put down bad people, to a point where he couldn’t remember what it was like to have something else to get out of bed for. He hardly considered himself to be relationship material, and he damn sure did not plan on meeting someone and actually trying to be a person again rather than just a weapon.

And then, as the cliché goes, you came along. You didn’t think you were all that charming or special, either. He noticed that quickly. But you certainly thought so of one another — all of a sudden, he did have something to look forward to at the end of his long days, he had something to hold onto when the nightmares and the darkness in his head got a little too suffocating.

There, then, was his new goal. To offer the same to you, to help you hold on in the horrible, awful, no-good world that somehow had allowed you to cross paths and seek shelter in each other.

Most days, it was just existing by each other’s side. Other days were cruel and unkind and in need of some additional love.

”Here you go, sweetheart”, he spoke lowly while offering you a spoon for your tea, and with a smile, you accepted and proceeded to stir in your sugar. Late night stops at your favorite diner had become a habit, not to mention a release for the both of you, and a way to just spend time and breathe each other in. In here, nothing else existed but him and you.

Or at the very least, that was how it was supposed to be. Then, out of sheer stupid luck, you reached for a napkin and knocked the mug over, all of the contents spilling across the table and making their way to Frank’s lap in a quick pour. He jerked backwards in his seat, startled, and you were yanked into a state of complete panic as you began grabbing at the napkins and dabbing at the table.

”Oh, Christ, I’m so sorry, Frankie”, you huffed. ”Fuck, I don’t know what happened. I’m really sorry, hold on— take these… I’m so sorry”, you continued rambling, your hands beginning to tremble as more apologies hung in the air.

For a moment, Frank was taking the napkins as you gave them and trying to get the tea out of his jeans, but when you didn’t quiet down, he looked up at you and saw the genuine terror all over your face. You were shaking and not too many moments away from breaking into tears, but he could tell you were fighting the urge as hard as you could.

”Hey”, he grunted, stopping his ministrations only for you to keep feeding him more and more napkins. ”Baby”, he emphasized, and at that, you froze, looking up at him with your chest rising and falling rapidly from the urgent breaths threatening to tilt into a panic attack.

”It’s alright, sweetheart. It ain’t the end of the world”, he promised, tilting his head at you to look at you better when you tried to look away from him. ”Hey”, he repeated, ”I’m good. Don’t you worry ’bout me.”

You tried to take his gruff voice seriously, believe his words, but when you glanced over your shoulder and saw the few other people in the diner looking your way and whispering to each other, your stomach made a nauseating backflip.

”Don’t focus on them. Focus on me”, Frank spoke up, ever observant, and reluctantly, you turned back to him and he nodded at you. ”Attagirl. Feel ya driftin’ away but I need ya to stay with me”, he pleaded with a stern but loving tone, his eyes glued on you when you slowly started breathing easier.

”I didn’t mean to”, you whispered, your voice so fragile it could have broken under the weight of your words.

Reaching for your hands, Frank gently caressed the skin with his thumbs and held you tight. ”I know, baby. I know you didn’t. I ain’t upset. No one is upset. Aight?” he promised softly, giving you a small smile to reassure you.

With a deep inhale, you nodded and returned the smile. Maybe he did mean it. And maybe, you could believe it.

It had been the first time you had nearly broken down in such a manner in front of him, but it certainly wasn’t the last. Slowly but surely, Frank figured out that someone hadn’t treated you right in the past and whatever had happened then, was still bleeding into the now. Instead of running away like you thought he might, however, he clung onto you even tighter.

If you could love him despite everything… he wasn’t going to let your difficulty to let yourself be loved stand in his way.

He could still vividly remember the time you finally opened up to him. You told him about the abuse you had endured, the ridicule and neglect that had been shot at you, and he didn’t have it in him to not cry. Quietly, but the tears filled his eyes, nonetheless. His trigger finger itched terribly and all of a sudden, his list of people to maim and kill had gotten that much longer.

But the part that got him? You tried to comfort him.

”I know it’s a lot to take in. Are you okay? Do you need anything?” you queried with a frown, your hand landing on Frank’s knee as you ached to wipe his tears away. ”It could be worse. Having you has really helped”, you added with a weak smile, trying to reassure him that you weren’t in a pit as dark as you had been before.

”Sweetheart, you’re killin’ me”, he whispered, leaning forward to place a hand on the back of your head and pull you in to kiss your forehead. ”Are you okay? This got nothin’ to do with me right now. I wanna take care of you”, Frank insisted, and with a soft sniffle, you shrugged.

”No one’s ever really said that to me”, you exhaled shakily, and with an angry huff at everyone who had ever wronged you, Frank reeled you into his arms and hugged you tight. Tighter than you had ever been hugged.

And Christ, he did not want to let go.

It wasn’t always sad, though. The two of you had more than enough happy moments — in fact, ever since you had huddled up together, you had both been happier than without each other.

Sometimes, you’d be watching a movie or a game on TV and in your excitement, you’d laugh out loud or cheer in a way that had Frank’s lips curving upwards. You seemed so free of worries, invested in the moment, and it filled his heart with something warm and fuzzy. But, more often than not, you surprised even yourself with how loud you were being, and it never took you that long to turn to Frank with a frown and apologize.

”Sorry. I’ll be more quiet”, you’d whisper, shifting uncomfortably on your side of the couch, pulling into yourself as much as you could.

Frank, on the other hand, always made sure to squash any anxiety you had. ”Baby, you be as loud as you fuckin’ want. I goddamn love seein’ you so excited and giddy. Cute as fuck, ’s what you are”, he’d insist, always knowing exactly what to say, his eyebrows knitted together but his mouth turned into a genuine smile.

And when you’d smile back at him, sheepish but grateful for what he had said, he could never resist peppering you with kisses to make you giggle and break out of your shell, once more.

You truly became braver with his help, found your footing in your developing relationship, and it was more clear to him than ever when you came home one day, a shy smile on your face and something curious twinkling in your eyes.

”I got you something”, you mumbled after he had pulled you into a kiss as a greeting, holding you against the countertops in your kitchen while you made sure to balance your hands behind your back to avoid spoiling the surprise.

Tilting his head at you, Frank chuckled. ”Yeah? I get to know what it is?” he wondered with a lick of his lips, and with your smile widening into a mischievous smirk, you revealed your present to him.

At the sight of a black snowglobe with a miniature Punisher inside the shiny glass, Frank broke into a grin of his own. You had spotted different vigilante-adorned snow globes in a bodega near your apartment building, and as soon as you had shaken the artificial snowflakes onto the gun-toting figure, you had chuckled to yourself and dug out your wallet.

”Do you like it?” you asked carefully, hoping that you hadn’t crossed a line, and without hesitation, Frank took the globe from your nimble fingers and shook it to make the snow fall.

”Kiddin’ me? I love it. I’mma take real good care of it”, he promised before placing a finger on your jaw and tilting your head up so he could kiss you, slow and deep. ”Thank you, baby”, he muttered against your lips, giving one more brief peck before pulling away and observing his new ornament a little closer.

”Really?” you questioned once more, joy spreading over your face as you nervously watched him, hesitating to believe someone would be so sincerely appreciative of what you had gotten them.

With a nod, Frank threw an arm over your shoulders and squeezed you close to his chest. ”Swear on my life, sweetheart. Think it would look good on the truck’s dashboard?”

You were now thinking back to that exchange, deep in your own mind while the hum of the radio kept company to the two of you. Frank’s warm hand was interlocked with yours, his eyes on the road while yours remained on the glued snowglobe right where he had planned on putting it. A small smile touched upon your lips, and with a deep exhale, you turned to face Frank whose features were contorted in a familiar scowl. Only when he glanced at you, his eyes softened and a playful smirk appeared in place of his usual grimace.

”We’re here”, he spoke up, his low voice sending a shiver down your spine as you turned to look where his finger was pointing. Through the windshield, you could see the restaurant you had been dreaming about for months now — the only thing was, it was quite expensive and fancy settings were hardly your favorite. But you had told Frank that with him, you’d feel safe.

Turning back to him with wide eyes and an agape mouth, you watched him steer the car into the parking lot with effortless movements. ”Here? What—what are we doing here?” you wondered, not sure if you could believe your eyes.

”Well”, Frank began after stopping the car, ”it’s your birthday tomorrow, darlin’. But I remember you tellin’ me that surprises on the day make you anxious, ’cause there’s no tellin’ if one’s comin’ or if people just forgot.”

All you could do was stare. He remembered that?

”I didn’t forget. But I figured you’d be more comfortable if we got the big surprise out of the way. So, uh, a few months ago I made a reservation for this place just for your special day”, he explained, and slowly, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to bite down and stop the tears from escaping your eyes.

”Don’t get me wron’, I ain’t skippin’ on all the love tomorrow. I’mma make sure my girl is spoiled”, he broke into a grin, only for it to soften into an almost nervous smile. ”Does that sound okay with you, sweetheart?”

You sniffled, and for a second concern gleamed over his eyes. But then you spoke up, your lip wobbling and tears inevitably sliding down your cheeks. ”You remembered”, you whispered, and you sounded so, so sincerely surprised that Frank felt a punch to his heart.

”Honey, ’course I remembered”, he frowned, taking your hand in one of his own and using the free one to reach for your cheeks and wipe your tears away softly. ”I remember, aight? I remember the way you take your tea. Your favorite flowers. Which shirt o’mine you love to steal. Which nail polish you wear the most often. What you hate having in your burgers. What you’d name your dog if you got one. Which shirt you hate on yourself, even though you look gorgeous…”, he trailed off, licking his lips and leaning in closer so he could look you in the eyes, lifting your chin up for him to do so.

”I love you, don’t you know?” he muttered, and with a fervent nod, you jumped in to reassure him.

”I don’t doubt you, I’m just… not used to it. But it feels really nice to not be the only one putting in an effort”, you cracked a smile, instantly causing Frank to mirror the expression. ”I love you, Frank.”

”Attagirl”, he whispered, leaving a kiss on your forehead before brushing your tears away with his thumb and sighing. ”Feel like eatin’ a fuckton of expensive food, huh?” he wondered then, and when you nodded, he flashed a grin.

A part of you wanted to be prepared for the worst, to expect the other shoe to drop. Sure, things were good now, but what about tomorrow? What about a week from now? A month, two months?

But for the first time in a long time, he made it so that you didn’t feel worry or anguish over being treated with love and care. For the first time, you could just revel in it and know with your whole heart that he meant every bit of it.

[666writingcafe]

Some Time Later

Lucifer (The Angel)

I've been assigned to patrol the woods alone this afternoon, and I have to say, I'm grateful. I don't get to be by myself very often. Some of that is due to choices I've made; after all, I've taken six angels under my wing, pun half-intended.

But there's something on my mind that none of them would be able to understand. Or rather, a person.

The Demon Prince is trying to fix the relationship between our realm and his. Originally, Michael was going to be the representative that went down there, but it got assigned last minute to me. After spending time with the prince, it makes me wonder if Michael would feel the same about him as I do if he were in my place.

The prince is kinder than some of the angels. I originally dismissed it as him simply practicing diplomacy, but he seems genuine in his efforts to get to know me as a person. He doesn't care about titles, instead focusing on character. Despite my less than stellar behavior when we first met, he still insists on becoming an ally.

Not just the Celestial Realm's, but my ally.

"I don't know what happened back there. I haven't felt that way about him in a really long time."

Great. Someone else is in the woods. I hold back a groan, knowing that I'll have to confront them. So much for my alone time.

"I think this place is doing weird things to all of us." Another voice.

"Did something happen to you, too?" The first voice...it sounds familiar.

"I feel like I'm behaving more like a demon than a human. First, there was the cover story for our appearance that I pulled out of my ass, and then I very nearly went all Asmo on Simeon when we were looking for Belphie earlier."

"Like, are we talking sexually? Magically?" The second voice sighs.

"Magically, Satan. I'm pretty sure having sex in the Celestial Realm is akin to heresy." I mean, they're not entirely wrong. But that's not important right now.

Satan...that's the name I've given to the anger that's become a permanent fixture inside my head. At first, it was just an emotion, but then it started talking. Or rather, screaming. At first, its noises were incoherent, but then I started hearing words in a voice that was not my own.

A voice that sounds eerily similar to the first trespasser.

"We have to get out of here," he tells his companion. "There's no telling what will happen if we..." He trails off as his eyes meet mine. Immediately, he tenses up, appearing to freeze in place.

"What's wrong?" Satan maintains eye contact, and the human follows his gaze. "Oh. This is bad. Really bad."

I step out of my makeshift hiding spot, making myself fully visible to them.

"Well, this is rather interesting," I remark, putting on an air of authority. "I should capture the two of you and not release you for a good long while."

"Please don't," the human quickly replies. "We don't mean any harm. If you can just help us find Simeon, I'll promise we'll be out of your hair." They seem terrified, but at least they're moving. Satan, on the other hand, hasn't budged an inch.

"If I was Michael or Raphael, your pleas would mean nothing. Thankfully, I'm only interested in talking." I focus my attention on Satan. "After all, it's not every day one sees the physical manifestation of their wrath."

"I was there even back then?" Satan whispers, confirming my earlier suspicions.

"You've been around from the moment I took Mammon in." My statement shocks Satan. "Your presence implies our separation at some point in the future. Assuming that you're a demon, that means that I must have fallen all the way down to the Devildom, correct?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nods his head.

"Along with the five angels you consider part of your family."

"Six," I correct.

"One doesn't survive the journey. Not entirely."

"What do you mean, not entirely?"

"If you knew who it was, then you'd end up altering the timeline," the human interrupts. "As it is, you know way more than you should."

"That's one way of looking at it, I suppose," I tell them. "I see it as preparing for the inevitable." They groan at my response.

"Barbatos is going to kill me," they mutter. Before I can question how they know the prince's butler, they take a deep breath and look straight at me.

"We can answer any questions you have, but you need to help us find Simeon. Not your Simeon, but ours. He and Satan got in a heated argument, and he went off in the opposite direction to hopefully try to calm down. Is there a spot here that he feels comfortable hiding in? One where he feels he won't be found easily?"

"There is a place, but it's a bit of a hike from here."

"Good enough. Let's go."

[drinkingcoffee-inthedark]

Unrequited

Part 4

Warning(s): Implied smut, mild angst, so much drama, so little proofreading

Pairing(s): Azriel x Reader, Lucien x Reader

Word Count: 2448

You and Azriel both let out quiet curses at the knock at the door. Neither of you were ready for any of your family members to find out the extent of your relationship. It was never supposed to be anything except for letting off steam; the equivalent of a sparring match. It wasn’t ever supposed to mean anything. But you both knew they would never let you hear the end of it. Five Centuries after Mor and Cassian slept together, it’s still a topic of conversation, albeit infrequently. In all the time spent as a family, there was nothing that was kept secret; nothing that you could have to yourself. Except for this. This was meant just for you and Azriel to share.

At least, that was your excuse. People knowing, especially your family, would make this all too much. All too real. And you weren’t ready to face that. Not yet. You’ve barely confronted your own feelings- not even wanting to admit it out loud to anyone, but even yourself. You’d already let it slip to Lucien, but you knew you could trust him. He barely communicated with the Inner Circle- only speaking to Rhys and Feyre. And even then, conversations with the High Lord were strictly professional.

If any of your loved ones found out the extent of the relationship you shared with Azriel- and the extent of what you truly feel for the Shadowsinger, it would all come crumbling down.

You’d suspected that Azriel had some sort of feelings for Mor still, and the crush he had on Elain was painfully obvious. You were sure he would have pursued her when she broke the mating bond with Lucien, but he kept his distance. Part of you was afraid that he’s just waiting on a polite way to end your arrangement. That’s part of the reason you struck up your entanglement with Lucien. You were nearly positive that if you did receive the announcement of Elain and Azriel being in a relationship, it would have destroyed you.

At a second knock at the door, Azriel quietly pulled himself out of bed and redressed quickly. You did the same and sprayed on copious amounts of perfume to mask his scent.

“Sorry,” he said softly, pressing kiss to your forehead, before being swallowed up by his shadows, winnowing away.

Another knock sounded and you rolled your eyes, shuffling to the door and swinging it open.

Nesta eyed you suspiciously, eyebrow quirked.

“Why did you skip training?”

You shrugged, “I told you. I had to buy a dress.” You hoped it was convincing, but Nesta was always too observant.

She rolled her eyes, “I thought it was the insufferable scent of the mating bond.”

You laughed, “I don’t mind being around you and Cassian!”

Her eyebrows knitted together, confusion evident in her gray eyes, “Not us. I meant Gwyn and Azriel.”

You recoiled as if she slapped you, “What?” Your voice was jagged against the ringing in your ears. “Nesta. What are you talking about?”

Her eyes softened. She wasn’t expecting your reaction. Not at all. You hid your feelings so well. Until now.

“(Y/N), I though you knew. I thought everyone did. Except for Gwyn. Azriel told Cassian a few months ago.” She reached out, like she wanted to comfort you, but she dropped her hand. She wasn’t sure how to react to your display of emotion.

You shook your head, “N-no.” The blood was rushing in your head, and you were dizzy. Your voice sounded tinny, far away, like it belong to someone else. You swallowed hard, trying to act normal. “Well. That’s good then. Good for them.” You managed a tight smile, despite the sudden cold that tingled down your body, making your fingers go numb.

“Yeah.” Nesta said, not sounding genuine in any way. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, “Yes.” You said, too quickly. “But I have somewhere to be. We’ll talk later,” You promised her, before all but closing the door in her face before immediately winnowing away, the room suddenly suffocating you.

-

You lost your footing on the landing and hit the ground with a thud, right in the middle of Lucien’s living room. The redhead glanced up at you over the top of the book he was reading, sitting with his legs crossed on his couch.

“Really? Ever heard of knocking on the door? I could’ve been naked!” His playfully indignant tone would’ve made you laugh any other day. You would’ve snarked back at him that you’ve already seen him naked before, but your words got stuck in your throat.

At your silence, he looked up at you, finally taking in your appearance. You sat on the floor, legs bent at the knees, leaning back on your hands, and breathing heavily. Your hair was a mess, and tears lined your eyes.

“(Y/N)?” His voice was soft as he discarded his book in the seat next to him on the couch, and he stood, facing you. “What happened.” His tone was fierce, protective.

You swallowed thickly again, willing the tears not to fall. You had no right to them. Azriel was a no-strings-attached hook up. You were not his, and he was not yours. You felt so stupid. So naive.

You let yourself get attached and now you were shattered on Lucien’s floor. Maybe you came here without thinking because you knew he would try to fix it.

He gently helped you off the ground, and you settled into his plush couch. You stared at your hand, folded neatly in your lap. The illusion in composure. Lucien stepped away into the kitchen, before emerging shortly after and pushing a cup of tea into your hands. You didn’t even look up at him, but you still took it gratefully. You didn’t want tea. Didn’t want anything except to go back in time and fix what you brought upon yourself.

You cleared your throat, “They’re mates.” You said it softly, he barely heard you.

“Who is?” He asked, sitting down next to you.

“Azriel…and Gwyn.” You wanted to hate the Priestess. You wished you could tear into every flaw; rip her apart. But you couldn’t. You liked Gwyn. She was kind, and brave, and good. Better than you. It wasn’t her fault that she was his mate and you weren’t.

“Oh. I’m-” Lucien stopped himself from saying he was sorry. He knew that wasn’t why you were there. He knew that wasn’t what you wanted.

He put his hand in your knee, warm and comforting.

“Are they…together?”

You shook your head, “No. Gwyn doesn’t know. But Azriel….” Your initial despair had worn off, and you were angry.

“Azriel knew.” Lucien concluded for you.

You gritted your teeth, “He knew he had a mate. The whole time! We’ve been sleeping together for six months! And he didn’t have the decency to tell me! Or to stop and be with his mate!”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Lucien, ever the emissary, the peacekeeper, the mediator, asked. Too rational.

Your head whipped in his direction, and you stared at him, incredulous.

“Of course not! I don’t want to see him ever again.”

Lucien had to stop his lip from quirking up in a smirk.

“You sound like a child. You can’t avoid him forever.”

You jumped to your feet and slammed your teacup down in the coffee table.

“Yes I can. And I will.”

Lucien set his cup down gently and sighed, standing to face you. He took your hands in his.

“Why did you come here, (Y/N)?”

You refused to meet his eyes.

“I… I just thought you could make me feel better.”

He sighed and pulled you into a hug, his strong arms around your shoulders. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his chest. You took a deep breath, taking in Lucien’s scent. Spiced cinnamon and crisp leaves. Despite not living in the Autumn Court for centuries, he still carried the scent of Autumn.

His hands carded through your hair, and the kindness he showed you made your heart sputter in your chest. Your anger at the situation died out, and then you were sobbing. He pulled you closer and let you cry into his chest, tears and snot wetting his shirt, but he didn’t pull away from you. He whispered soothing words into your hair, and let you let everything out that you’d been holding in.

Lucien held you and let you cry until the tears dried up, and you were exhausted. You pulled your head back slightly, away from his chest, and cringed at the soaked material.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t be.”

You gave a half smile, appreciating his kindness. You may not have been in love with the red headed male, but he was a great friend.

You cleared your throat softly, “He doesn’t like that I come here and see you,” You told him, “We argued about it today.”

Lucien looked at your cautiously, “What did he say?”

You scoffed.

“He said that I ‘failed this court’ because I slept with you. Because you came from Spring.”

Lucien rolled his eyes.

“Does the Shadowsinger forget that you are also from a Court other than Night?”

You hesitated for a moment.

“I…think maybe he’s jealous.” You bit your lip.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, he asked if…” You couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up your neck. “If I let you cum inside me.”

Lucien threw his head back and roared with laughter, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“That male,” Lucien said between bouts of laughter, “Is definitely jealous.”

“You think so? But his mate-” Lucien’s face grew serious.

“I think you should speak with Azriel, (Y/N). Not Nesta, not Rhysand, and -as much as I enjoy out conversations- not me.”

You say back down on the couch and groaned.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to do that. Not yet. I can’t admit-”

Lucien joined you on the couch and took your hand in his.

“(Y/N), what’s a worse fate? Being rejected and knowing where you stand? Or dragging this out? Having sex with someone you love, and not knowing if they love you too? Either option is going to hurt. At least with one, you’d be able to heal. Besides, Azriel may feel the same way about you.”

“But he’s mated,” you pointed out.

“And so was I.”

Touché, Lucien Vanserra.

“I don’t want to hurt Gwyn.”

“How many excuses are you going to make?”

You shot him a halfhearted glare.

“Whether it’s you, Azriel, or Gwyn,” He said, “someone is going to get hurt.”

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, feeling a headache rapidly coming along.

“Things would be a lot simpler if I fell in love with you instead.” You told him.

You felt Lucien tense next you, and glanced at him, and unknown emotion dancing in his russet eye.

He cleared his throat and stood up, gesturing for you to do the same.

“You look exhausted. We should get some sleep.” His voice was soft but seemed strained.

You nodded and followed him into his bedroom.

-

Sleep eluded you for much of the night, but regardless, the next morning, you said a quick goodbye to Lucien, before heading out to meet Madja at the clinic. You were positive you would get an earful from Nesta for missing another day of training. You didn’t know how you missed the mating bond between Gwyn and Azriel, but that just about guaranteed that you would be training alone from now on.

Madja greeted you warmly when you entered the clinic, and you smiled at her. Madja was a kind, motherly woman, but she took her job seriously. She was no-nonsense when it came to healing. You first met her during the war, and despite being angry with Azriel, you were grateful for the opportunity to learn from Madja.

“Good morning!” You returned her greeting brightly.

“How are you doing, (Y/N)?”

You smiled, hoping it seemed genuine, “I’m doing well. How are you?”

“Wonderful, dear! I’m happy you decided to join me.”

You suppressed the urge to tell her you didn’t have a choice in the matter, and you nodded politely at her.

Madja launched right into her task of the day- potions. You were always better at using your own magic to heal; however, it was less of a strain in your own body if you’re able to cure using a potion. You didn’t have too much experience in the matter, so it took you a few tries to get the hang of it.

One mixture that you created by mistake had Madja laughing.

“That’s not quite a remedy for a headache, dear,” she told you, “You created a love potion.”

You quirked a brow at her.

“I thought those were just myths?”

“They’re very real. And very banned here in the Night Court,” She told you, taking the pink mixture from your hands and pouring it down the drain.

You couldn’t help the sigh that left your lips.

“It’s been too long since I’ve practiced with potions.”

Madja nodded, understanding. “The Dawn Court doesn’t use them much, do they?”

“Sometimes. Most prefer to just heal with our own magic. Right from the source.”

“More effective.” Madja concluded, looking at you over the rim of the beaker she was tinkering with.

“Harder to manage. Harder to recover,” You countered, “That’s why I want to get better with the potions.”

She hummed, “Understandable. Especially knowing the amount of healing that Azriel and Cassian typically need.”

Her tone was lighthearted, but you both knew just how much of themselves the Illyrians gave to protecting the Night Court. The sacrifices they have made; the sacrifices they were willing to make. Madja had plenty of experience tending to the wounds of the Illyrian Warriors.

“I haven’t seen much of Azriel lately.” She spoke. “Not with you around. You must be caring for him well.”

You shot her a quizzical look.

“I mean, I guess. I’ve only had to heal minor injuries. Nothing too serious.”

“Maybe externally. It’s the internal healing that makes the difference.” Her eyes twinkled with something between mischief and understanding.

You turned away, avoiding her eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You lied.

She laughed, “(Y/N), it’s not my place to say, but the two of you really are clueless.”

You didn’t think that your feelings for Azriel were that obvious. But if Madja knew… There was a chance that everyone else did too.

Everyone but Azriel

You were starting to think that maybe Lucien was right.

You needed to talk to Azriel.

•

Tag list:

@lahoete @percyjacksonspeen @inpraizeof @honestlywtfisgoingon @azzydaddy @positivewitch @thesillyyogourt @cmay25

*strikethrough = tumblr won’t let tag

[queen--kenobi]

Invisible Ties, Silken Ties Part 1

Story summary: You're sent to King's Landing to spy on Lady Elayna Reyne. Rumor has it she and Aemond Targaryen are lovers. You are supposed to see if this is true, but you may end up getting more than your bargained for.

Aemond Targaryen x maid!reader x OFC (Elayna Reyne), Aemond x OFC, Tyland Lannister x OFC, eventual all four sdsdsdsd

Warnings: NSFT (PiV, BDSM dynamics, voyeurism, semi-public sex, implied collaring, Aemond likes being called King)

Word count: 2.9k

Author's note: So this first part is mostly plot with voyeurism. The next part will absolutely have the threesome. Also. Reblogs and comments will make me fall in love with you ❤️

You shouldn't have done this. The thought weighs heavily on your mind as you make your way through the corridors. You shouldn't have done this.

Well. It wasn't exactly as if you had a choice in the matter. You had been sent to King's Landing as part of a wedding gift from Tyland and Jason's younger brother, Tymon. At least, that was your understanding until Lord Tymon approached you the night before you were set to leave.

“I understand you might be upset at this turn of events.” Tymon stands up. He paces towards you. “But. I have no one else I can turn to.”

You try to keep your face blank and the picture of civility.

“Don't.” Tymon nearly coos. It sends a strange sort of shiver up your spine. “I would be upset too. I just...” He pauses. “You have always been a good and faithful servant to us, and this is sensitive. So sensitive I cannot ask this of anyone else.” He gives you an imploring look.

“What is it, Ser?” You have a sinking feeling in your gut.

"I have one thing to ask of you." Tymon places his finger under your chin. He lifts your chin up so you look him in the eye. "It's simple."

Your heart beat thunders in your chest. "What is it, ser?"

"Before I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone." He nearly purrs. A brief, dark look crosses over his face. "The reputation of my family may be at stake."

"Of course."

"I need you to keep an eye on the future Lady Lannister. Not for my sake but for my brother's sake."

You knit your brow in confusion.

"I'm not sure I understand, Ser."

"Of course you wouldn't." Tymon pats your cheek. "You're loyal." He steps even closer to you. His green eyes almost sparkle. "You know my brother, Tyland? He's... dull, which means he's never been subject to a lady's schemes. I fear my old friend may be trying to use my older brother. I'm not sure if it's for money or wealth or fame. I find I cannot trust her intentions. So. I need you to make sure she does not take advantage of him." Tymon tilts his head. "It would be his first heartbreak, and I wish to spare him the same sort of pain she caused me."

Your breath catches in your throat.

"Did she break your heart?"

He nods. "Yes, she was to be my betrothed. Instead of staying true, she ran off to King's Landing where she met my brother. At first I thought she chose him because of a perceived slight, but I'm beginning to think she's using him. She's good friends with Prince Aemond. I..." Tymon pauses. He presses his lips together. "I shouldn't say what I'm thinking. She is to be family."

You frown despite yourself. He does seem betrayed, a level of hurt lurking beneath the surface you've felt before.

"You want to spare your brother the heart ache." You echo his earlier words. Tymon slowly smiles.

"You understand me."

You were to spy. The thought did not sit well with you, but what choice did you have in the matter? Surely, if you were to spy, other maids might be there to spy on you as well.

It doesn't help you like Lady Elayna. At first, you are hesitant to meet her. Lannisters never seemed to go for truly nice women. Elayna is different. She does not treat you with indifference or act as if you are invisible. She does not treat you with cruelty either. She is... nice in a genuine way.

It almost feels like a betrayal knowing you are to spy on her. Eventually, you try to forget those were your directives at all.

The memory weighs on your mind every time you watch Elayna interact with the middle Prince. The two were close, no one could deny that. Yet you did not think she was being unfaithful. Both Tyland and Prince Aemond seemed constant fixtures in her life.

Every morning, Elayna get ups and goes to the Sept first thing. She dresses herself but has you do her hair in a simple braid. Most mornings, she goes by herself, but others Tyland waits at her door to escort her.

While Elayna is at the Sept, you arr given an odd task. Every morning, whether it was when he came to escort Elayna to the Sept or when she was at her prayers, Tyland comes by her rooms. He informs you of the outfits Elayna was to wear that day, down to the jewelry.

At first you think it odd, but you never question it. Part of why you didn't was simply because Elayna did not seem to mind. Another part of you wonders. Tyland Lannister has a reputation as a boring, dull man. Picking out his wife's clothes every day doesn't seem like the trait of a boring man.

After her prayers, you dress Elayna in the first chosen outfit. She then goes to watch Prince Aemond spar. You and another maid clean Elayna’s room. If you finish everything an hour before noon, you have a break. Every day, an hour before lunch, Elayna comes back to her rooms. You dress her in the second outfit of the day. She then goes to lunch with her betrothed. About mid-afternoon she changes once more for whatever event she had in the evening. At this point, she lets you go.

“I won't keep you up all night.” She explains.

You notice other odd things. For starters, every time Elayna sees Prince Aemond in the afternoon, she comes back without her necklace on. Lord Tyland is adamant Elayna wear a gold necklace every day. Some of the necklaces look more like a collar in your opinion. You never say anything.

Those necklaces always go missing by the end of the day.

Roella, the other main maid of Lady Elayna's, tells you her theories. She tends to Elayna at night. Most of the time you don't lend credence to what she says. You honestly doubt Prince Aemond could be in Elayna’s room and suddenly disappear when Roella came by.

Eventually, your curiosity gets the better of you. You and Roella, along with some of the other maids, are deep cleaning Elayna’s room. It is a little over a moon's time before Elayna is to be married, and her family is going to be here soon. You and Roella stand at a large basin of water, cleaning Elayna’s sheets.

“Are... are the Prince and Lady Elayna as close as the rumors say?” You keep your gaze cast down. A particular spot on the silk sheets catches your interest.

Roella snorts.

"Oh, they've been fucking. It's a secret to them higher folk, but us maids know. You'll know soon enough." She waggles her eyebrows.

You frown.

"What do you mean the higher folk don't know?" You question. Roella snorts.

"Everyone thinks they are, but no one can provide evidence. Even Larys can't make anything stick, and he can sniff out shit faster than a pig."

A couple other maids titter.

"We'll know once she has a babe. I'd wager money they'll come out with silver hair." Someone says.

"So? Tyland is blond. Depending on how light the babe's hair is, they might pass."

"I heard her future husband is in on it and that's why it doesn't stay." Another maid, Sarae you think, chimes in. "Would explain a lot."

"Oh, now you're just talkin' nonsense. That's just as likely as them who says Elayna gave ol' Clubfoot a foot job for his silence."

"It's true! You remember Marissa? She supposedly went to Ser Tyland and suddenly! She was Aegon's maid. Her Majesty gave Marissa the boot within three moons."

Some of the maids shudder. You give Roella an inquiring look. She shakes her head.

"Be careful 'round Aegon. He's got an appetite on him. Ain't exactly polite about it neither." She begins pulling the sheets out of the soapy water. "Lady Elayna will protect you. I think she's been waiting for a chance to have a go at 'im."

The gossip turns to other subjects. You can't help being stuck on this one. So far, Elayna seemed the picture of a lady. She certainly didn't seem like the type to do such a thing. She had her mischievous streak, but she was still young.

Roella's words turn out to be a prophecy. You did know not too long after.

Soft noises come from within the Small Council's chamber. You frown. Everyone should be at the festivities. It was Aegon's name day, and while people had differing opinions about the Prince, everyone knew a party in his name would include much debauchery. You saw everyone on the Council downstairs, and you know the doors are often locked to prevent people from sneaking in during events like this.

You inch towards the heavy doors. It's sheerly curiosity getting the better of you.

A low moan comes from between the heavy wooden doors. Soon, a satisfied yet mischievous feminine laugh follows. You stop dead in your tracks. Even though you haven't seen anything, your eyes grow wide.

It must be Aegon in there, surely it is just Aegon in there with some noble lady who thinks she might curry favor. You try to make your feet move. You aren't sure why, but you can't seem to move. Maybe... maybe it's because the laugh somehow seems familiar.

"Oh." A gasp cuts through the air. "My King!"

You stare at the doors in amazement and fear. The voice was absolutely Elayna’s, that much was clear. You had thought Tymon had been lying to you, trying to make you paranoid and fear Elayna, but it truly seems as if she might be disgracing his elder brother by laying with another man. You bite your bottom lip. Surely. Surely it wasn't with Aegon? She seemed to barely tolerate him.

Your feet move suddenly and of their own volition. Oh. You know. You know you should not peek to see. Elayna would never forgive you if she felt you had betrayed her trust, but you have to know. You have to see exactly who it is. You creep towards the doors.

What you see through the cracks takes you by surprise.

Elayna lays on the table, her skirts bunched at her waist. You do see silver hair between her legs, just as you feared, but it is not Aegon's short curls. Instead, Aemond's long hair gleams in the moonlight. It's mussed, no doubt from Elayna keeping Aemond's head pressed to her center. Aemond's right arm moves. You can see his bicep flex with small movements, but his right forearm flexes the most. You can't see his fingers since they disappear in front of him. You don't need to, not with the noises falling from Elayna’s mouth and the slick sounds of her arousal echoing in the room.

Shame tries to take hold of your body. You can't move. You're mesmerized by the sight in front of you. Aemond brings his left hand up from under Elayna's thigh. He places it up on top of her leg. Elayna sits up some. She reaches out and takes hold of his free hand. She leans on her left elbow more to compensate. Her breasts threaten to spill out from her dress. Elayna attempts several times to thread her fingers through Aemond's. Whatever he is doing with his mouth and opposite hand must be extraordinary because Elayna's whole body shakes.

"Aemond." She whines.

The sounds stop abruptly. Aemond pulls back. Is it just your imagination, or can you actually see strands of Elayna’s arousal on his mouth? Your heart beats loudly against your chest.

" 'Tis not my name tonight." Aemond's voice is low. The fingers on Elayna’s thigh tap on her skin with barely restrained displeasure.

"My King." Elayna presses herself fully up to sitting. It takes her several tries. Aemond outright smirks.

Could he... could he do that to you? Could he render you that immobile from pleasure? Certainly just watching him makes it seem that he can.

"My King." Elayna's chest heaves. She sits fully upright now. "My King, I just wanted to hold your hand."

"And what makes you think you deserve that?" Despite being on his knees, Aemond clearly holds all the power. Elayna arches an eyebrow. Her attempt at imperiousness falls flat with how flustered she clearly is.

"I clearly did enough to deserve your mouth. I don't see why I should do more just to hold your ha-"

A loud, wet smack sounds. You jump at it, placing both your hands over your chest. Elayna nearly comes up off the table. Aemond slowly stands up. The two of them stare at each other.

"I will not tolerate insolence tonight." Aemond murmurs. His hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles going white. You find yourself breathing as hard as Elayna is. It almost feels as if your breathes are in sync with hers.

"I'm sorry, My King." Elayna pushes towards him.

"Yes, you tend to be sorry when I smack your greedy cunt."

You barely stop your jaw from falling to the floor. You wouldn't have expected Aemond to talk like that. Certainly, you didn't expect for him to sound so confident and domineering. Your pulse races throughout your entire body like wildfire. Carefully, you inch closer.

"I truly did not mean to be a brat, My King." Elayna looks up at him from underneath her eyelashes. Aemond snorts derisively.

"And yet you were."

Despite his cold tone, you can see Aemond move to unlace his britches. Elayna lets her gaze drop to the movement of his hands. She swallows.

"Do you think you deserve this cock?" Aemond's whole arm moves now, a slow steady motion. It sets your whole body ablaze and your brain spinning. Elayna nods fervently. "Beg for it, then."

"Please, my King. I want it." Elayna bats her eyelashes. She tries to place her calves around Aemond's waist. Aemond takes hold of both her calves and pushes them up and back towards her.

"You said you weren't going to be a brat." His voice is iron and steel. Desire pools in your stomach. Without realize it, you palm one of your breasts over your shift. The other drops down slowly.

" 'm sorry!" Elayna nearly whines. To see the normally proud Elayna reduced to this state makes you pulse around nothing. Aemond makes a sound as if he doesn't believe her. "Please. Please my King. I want your cock, need your cock."

Elayna’s begging goes straight to your head. You move your hand further down so you can press the heel of your palm against your public bone. You nearly paw at your own breast.

The more you listen, the wetter you get. You don't even register what you're doing until your hand has dipped beneath your skirts and small clothes.

"I'm not sure you deserve it." Aemond murmurs. Elayna outright whines.

“I do! I've been good!”

You circle your clit. Fuck. You know you shouldn't be doing this, but you can't help it. Your breath catches in your throat at the same time Elayna’s does. You see Aemond take hold of both of Elayna’s thighs and press them towards her body. For a second, it looks as if he might push her fully down onto the table. He doesn't. Instead, much to your surprise, Elayna’s ankles end up braced on his shoulders.

Pure lust races through your body. You slip one finger inside of you. You watch with baited breath. Aemond and Elayna moan and sigh at the same time. Elayna's hands wrap themselves around the back of Aemond's neck.

For a minute, all you can see is them. Aemond thrusts into Elayna. At first, it seems controlled. Eventually he loses his composure. His hair almost bounces with each movement of his hips. Elayna's thigh jiggle with each smack of Aemond's hips. Her fingers go from just resting on the nape of his neck to clawing his back. They're both still fully clothed, so all she manages to do is wrinkle his shirt.

The table squeaks with each harsh thrust. Elayna openly moans. You try to keep rhythm with Aemond, to use the sound of the table to keep time, but it's difficult. Eventually, you give up and keep your own pace with your fingers. You can tell they're whispering to each other, but you can't make out what they're saying. You don't think you could even if your blood wasn't pounding in your ears.

Elayna's punched out moans and Aemond's grunts make you wetter and wetter. It sounds like a perfect harmony. You try to curl your fingers just right. You have to slide down the door some in order to get a better angle. You look through the gap in the door again to see what exactly they're doing to each other.

Over Aemond's shoulder, you notice. Your blood goes from boiling to freezing with a matter of seconds. Elayna is looking at you.

She sees you.

Her kiss-bruised lips curl into a predatory expression. Your eyes widen in fear. Quickly, you pull your fingers out of yourself. The squelch is embarrassing, adding even more humiliation to the moment. You begin to stumble away, trying not to knock into anything as you walk backwards. Your pulse now thunders with fear. When you look up, you see Elayna's lips by Aemond's ear.

Your embarrassment and shame burn hot. Without a second thought, you flee.

[pedroscurls]

Title: The Teacher (Part 4).

CHAPTER TITLE: Flashbacks

Character(s): Joel Miller, Reader (female, first person POV) Summary: Your relationship with Joel develops.  Word Count: 5,240 Author's Note: So, we’re definitely gonna dive a bit more deeper into the Reader’s history after the outbreak, so please be wary! Warnings are listed below. We’re in for an angsty chapter, but I promise it ends on a good note. (btw, this chapter definitely got way too ahead of me lol, enjoy) Warning: Mention of implied rape, killing, violence

Maria had visited you the following day. While Joel brought you comfort, so did Maria. You wondered if it was because she saved your life; though, she had always been so welcoming and understanding since the moment you met her. She never put any unnecessary pressure on you to open up or discuss things you weren’t ready to talk about. 

“So,” she began with a smile. “You and Joel seem to hit it off.”

You blushed instantly, trying to hide your feelings for the man. “He’s nice,” was all you said.

“Just nice?” Maria chuckled.

“He’s becoming a good friend,” you smiled. 

Maria gave you a knowing look, her head tilting in amusement. “Well, you must be really special.” 

“Why’s that?”

“Joel just doesn’t normally like to make friends,” Maria admitted. “It’s like he’s a different man when you’re around though. I mean, I’ve never seen him smile or laugh this much and I’ve known the man for years.”

You blush deepened and you shrugged a shoulder. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Maria nodded with a smile. “Oh my god, are you kidding? It’s the greatest thing. He’s less of a grouch.”

You laughed to yourself as your mind drifted to Joel. You had only been at Jackson for a couple of days and already, you had developed a crush on your next door neighbor. 

“Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome,” you teased. 

Maria laughed at that, leaning back against the couch. “Aside from that, how are you doing?”

You cleared your throat, dropping your eyes for a moment. “Doing okay.”

“You sure?”

“I just–” You sighed. “I’m still getting used to everything. You and your father built this amazing place and don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful, but it’s just– It’s a lot.”

“That’s understandable,” Maria replied. “Everyone has their own process… You had been out there by yourself for a while so being here, in a place like Jackson, it can be overwhelming.”

You nodded in agreement. “I’m grateful, Maria. I am–”

She gave you a small smile. “Move at your own pace. Trust me, we want you to be comfortable here and we want you to feel safe. So, however long that takes, so be it. Just– Don’t rush it.”

You sighed, glancing over at her. You could see the genuine look on her face; her eyes were soft, displaying an emotion of empathy, and you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders. “Thank you, Maria. I think once I start teaching, Jackson will start to feel like home.”

Maria nodded, “With that being said, I wanted to give you some updates.”

Your interest piqued and you listened intently. “Oh?”

“We’re building the classrooms right now and we’re deciding to put it in the middle of the community. There are plenty of parents who work around that general area, so it seemed like the best place to have the school,” Maria began. “We’re also going to have a meeting with the families next week so that they can meet you, you can meet them, and you can also meet the kiddos.”

You grinned as your mind drifted to the upcoming week. You figured that once you started meeting the kids and started teaching that you wouldn’t be so on edge; you hoped that Jackson would at least start feeling like a place where you could finally start living again. 

“I’m excited,” you replied. “I really can’t wait.”

“How do you feel about coming with me to the bar tonight?” Maria asked. “No pressure though.”

“Maybe for one drink.” 

She grinned. “Great. I’ll see you tonight.”

—

Later that night, you walked into the bar and noticed Maria immediately. You were wearing your boots with white fitted shirt tucked in with your light washed jeans and a flannel on top. She handed you a beer as you sat on a stool near the counter, looking around with a smile. 

It was cozy. There were string lights hanging from the ceiling, music filtering through the room, but you noticed how warm and welcoming it felt. Plenty of people had come up to introduce themselves, even meeting some of the parents and expressing their excitement for the school opening up. It started to feel like you were part of this community and you felt all anxiety and worries disappear when you started to get more comfortable. 

“Having fun?” Maria asked, leaning against the counter of the bar as she noticed you were halfway finished with your beer. 

“Surprisingly, yeah,” you smiled. “Thank you for inviting me out.”

“Anytime,” she grinned, pointing towards your beer. “Want another one?”

You shook your head. “One’s enough, thank you.”

Maria nodded and then grabbed your hand, motioning towards the dance floor. “You dance?”

“It’s been a while,” you replied, following her eagerly. “I might make a fool out of myself.”

Maria laughed and kept a hold of your hand. “Don’t we all?” 

“Fair point.” When she released your hand, you let your body sway to the music. The effects of the alcohol were burning through your veins, allowing you to fully calm down and just embrace the moment. Just a couple of days ago, you were so sure that you were going to die, but then Maria saved you and here you were, feeling surprisingly content and happy. 

“You can dance!” She exclaimed, her arms raising in the air as she danced to the music as well. 

You smiled, downing the rest of your beer and setting it on the counter. Returning to the dance floor, you shut your eyes and continued to sway, moving your hips rhythmically to the beat of the song. 

Tommy and Joel had walked into the bar with a groan. Their patrol was easy, but tiring. There were no signs of any Infected or any threats, so it was a good day. When they entered the building though, both men were surprised to see a crowd forming in the middle of the dance floor.

“That’s new,” Tommy said, ordering two beers. 

“Hm,” Joel said. “I’m only havin’ one beer and then I’m callin’ it a night. My back hurts.”

Tommy laughed to himself, handing his older brother a beer and shaking his head. “Alright, old man. One beer, that’s all.” 

Joel shut his eyes for a moment, taking a long swig of his beer as he felt himself slowly relax. Though, when he heard Tommy gasp, Joel opened his eyes to look over at his brother.

“What?”

“Look,” Tommy said, pointing to the dance floor. 

Joel turned his attention to the dance floor, his eyes immediately finding you. Though, his eyes drifted to the rest of your body, watching your hips move expertly to the song that was playing in the room. He grabbed his beer and took another long swig as he forced himself to look away.

“Looks like she’s havin’ fun,” Tommy smiled. “And she’s havin’ fun with my girl.”

Joel just nodded.

“Joel,” Tommy said, nudging his brother. 

“I should get goin’,” Joel said, eyes flickering over to you.

“Oh, come on. You know you don’t wanna leave.”

“Well, she’s havin’ fun and I don’t wanna–”

Tommy shook his head, calling out Maria’s name. You looked over at the sound of Tommy’s voice and immediately noticed Joel. Your cheeks had turned red and you removed your flannel once it had gotten a bit too warm. You were smiling though, following Maria to Tommy and Joel. Your eyes though hadn’t left the older man’s; once more, it felt like everyone else in the room had disappeared and the only person you saw was him.

Joel. 

“Hey baby. How was the patrol?” Maria asked, kissing Tommy’s cheek.

Tommy wrapped his arm around Maria, holding her close. “Was fine,” he said. “Nothing too out of the ordinary.” 

Joel didn’t reply. He kept his eyes on you once you were now standing near him. He wanted nothing more than just to sweep you off your feet and take you back home, but he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. 

“Wanna dance?” Maria asked Tommy, giving her husband a look to signal that they should give you and Joel some space.

“With you? Always. I’ll see you later Joel.” Tommy then turned to you and winked. “Nice moves you got there.”

You blushed, looking over at the younger brother. “It’s no longer a secret.”

Maria chuckled. “Now I’m wondering what else you got hiding.”

You laughed, shaking your head as the couple moved to the dance floor. Turning your attention back to Joel, you noticed how he was avoiding your eyes, sipping at his beer. 

“Um,” you started. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”

“Me too.” Joel replied. “How are you?” 

“Feeling really good,” you smiled. “Though, that may be the alcohol.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Just one beer,” you blushed. “I’m a lightweight.”

Joel chuckled. “Well, good to know. It’s good to see you havin’ fun.”

You nodded. “All thanks to Maria. She invited me out tonight.”

“That’s good,” Joel said, finishing his beer. He cleared his throat and motioned towards the door. “Well, have a good night.”

You furrowed your brow, pulling your flannel back on. “Wait, what?”

“I told Tommy I was just havin’ one drink and then I’m headin’ home.”

You bit your lower lip anxiously. “Would you be surprised if I told you that I told Maria the same thing?”

Joel’s eyes widened just slightly and when he looked you over, he noticed that you weren’t holding another bottle. So, he assumed that you were also now ready to go home. 

“Want some company on your walk home?” Joel asked.

“I’d like that.”

Maria and Tommy watched the both of you leave the bar and they turned to each other with a grin.

“They’re good for each other,” Maria told Tommy.

“Just as long as Joel gets outta his head,” Tommy replied.

—

The walk home was quiet, but you both were taking your time getting home. There was no rush and you enjoyed each other’s company anyway.

“So,” Joel began. “You mentioned last night that you were married.”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “I was, yeah.”

“Lucky man,” Joel commented.

You blushed, looking up at him as he kept his eyes forward. “You remind me of him actually.”

He arched a brow, glancing over at you. “That so?”

You both stopped walking once you were at your porch, turning to face each other. It was a quiet night, the outdoor string lights illuminating both of your features just right. Joel’s hands were in his pockets and your arms were crossed over your chest. 

You looked up at him, staring into his dark brown eyes. You wanted nothing more than to just kiss him, to feel his lips, to feel safe again.

“Yeah,” you replied. “You make me feel safe, Joel.”

Joel cleared his throat, looking down at you. He inched closer, taking his hand from his pocket to move a strand of hair away from your face. His hand lingered on your cheek as his thumb gently brushed against your soft skin. He smiled, feeling you lean against his touch. 

“M’glad,” he whispered. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

Suddenly, you took a step back. The look on your face shifted instantly and it was no longer a look of desire, of want, but was replaced with a look of fear. You weren’t looking at Joel anymore. Instead, you were looking at a different man. A man from your past and when Joel took a step closer, you immediately raised your hands up.

“Don’t.”

“Darlin’–” 

“I said don’t,” you repeated. “Get away from me.”

Joel’s brows furrowed, but he stopped himself from moving closer to you. He didn’t know what caused the drastic shift, but he hated the way you were looking at him. The fear in your eyes, but the threatening stance you were in… It was like you were a different person. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.” 

“You don’t get to hurt me again,” you mumbled, dropping your hands to your sides as it curled into fists. Tears were filling your eyes and Joel was at a loss. He didn’t know how to calm you down, how to make you see that you were safe and that whoever you were seeing wasn’t reality. 

“Darlin’,” Joel repeated. “You’re in Jackson, okay? You’re safe. Ain’t no one gonna hurt you, I promise.” 

“Stop!” You exclaimed, looking around frantically. You were vulnerable and when you realized you didn’t have any weapons, you kept taking a step back to further your distance. It wasn’t until you tripped over your own feet that you had fallen backwards, passing out in the process.

“Shit,” Joel mumbled. He scooped you up into his arms and brought you inside your home, looking around quickly. He gently set you on the sofa and grabbed a match to light up a candle. It was too dark, even for him, so once the candle was lit, he set it on the coffee table and sighed. He didn’t know what had just happened and he wasn’t sure if he should even stay, but Joel couldn’t help but stare at you. 

You were sleeping, but you didn’t look peaceful. Your lips were formed into a pout and your brows were furrowed together. You had curled up into a ball once Joel set you on the couch and he could hear your quiet mumbling. It pained him to see you like this, especially since just an hour ago, you were dancing, smiling, and having fun. 

Joel opted to stay, at least until you woke up. His back was killing him and he was exhausted, but you were far more important than sleep at the moment. He had to wonder how often your flashbacks occurred; he was fortunate to have had someone nearby, whether it was Tess, Tommy, or Ellie. He wasn’t ever alone and it put a lot of things into perspective when he found out that you had been on your own for over a year. He couldn’t imagine it. 

It had been a couple of hours later when you awoke. You sat up in a quick motion, looking around the room and noticing the single candle that illuminated the living room. You noticed Joel had fallen asleep on the single loveseat, realizing what had happened. You felt embarrassed; you had tried to keep the negative parts of your past to yourself, but Joel had managed to see it firsthand. 

You tried to think about what had triggered you. You knew you were both sharing a moment. You remembered the feel of his hand on your cheek and how you had willingly leaned against his touch. Then, you remembered what he said.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

To anyone else, it could have been sweet and special, but to you, it brought back memories of a past that you had tried to forget. It had been a year after you left the QZ in Washington, stumbling upon a group who had been happy to take you in. You kept your guard up though, making sure to keep your head down and contribute in any way that you can. 

But the leader. The leader had a thing for you. 

He had cornered you one night and said those same words. You could still remember the sound of his voice, the feel of his body forcefully against yours, the pain you felt when he hit you every time you tried to scream for help… It was something you would never forget and hearing Joel say those words had practically transported you back to that moment. 

You slowly stood from the sofa, trying to quietly tiptoe down the hallway, but you didn’t get far. Joel had woken up and called your name in such a soft tone that you immediately looked over at him.

“I–I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

Joel stood with a low grunt, walking over to you slowly. “Ain’t gotta apologize.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” you mumbled. “It was– It was just my shit coming back and I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Joel stood in front of you. He understood exactly what that meant, and experienced it almost every night. “Hey…”

You bit your lip, bringing your eyes up at him. “Joel–”

“I’m here,” he replied. “For you.”

“Joel, you barely know me… We just met and–”

“You make me feel alive again,” Joel blurted out. He brought a hand to rub the back of his neck, sighing quietly. “M’sorry if that’s a bit too forward, but–”

Your response was to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. His scent filled your senses, causing your eyes to fall shut. When his arms moved around to wrap around your waist, you held onto him tighter. 

Joel was taken by surprise when he felt your body press against his and your arms wrap around his frame. It didn’t take long before his arms wrapped around you as well, which caused him to feel your arms tighten around him. It was comforting, holding you this way and inhaling your scent. It felt like home. 

He then buried his face against the side of your neck, his nose brushing against your skin. Joel could have held you like this forever. 

You let out a shaky breath when you felt him move to bury himself against your neck. You felt his facial hair tickle your skin and his hot breath breathing against you. You had only known Joel for a couple of days and yet, this felt normal; it felt like you belonged here, in his arms. 

You hadn’t felt this safe in so long. 

You both stayed in each other’s arms for a few more minutes before you slowly pulled back. Your arms remained around his shoulders and his hands moved to rest on your hips. The distance between you both were mere inches and you could feel his breath against you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“Anythin’ for a friend.” 

Friend. 

“You should probably get home.” You said, pulling away from him and immediately missing his warmth and his strong arms around you.

Joel nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “You gonna be okay?” 

“I will be. I’ve survived this long,” you let a small smile line your lips. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’m just right next door. Don’t hesitate to come over if you need anythin’, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Before Joel left, he pulled you into another hug, his eyes falling shut as he felt his entire body relax. It had been so long since he felt this way, but there was just something about you that made every concern, doubt, and worry that Joel felt, disappear. 

“Goodnight, darlin’.”

You smiled against him, reveling in this moment. “Goodnight, Joel.”

—

It had been two weeks since that incident. You were slowly getting used to Jackson, now feeling like a part of the community. You still had nightmares, which happened more often than you liked to admit, but you kept it to yourself. Even when Joel asked how you were doing everyday, you had lied to him and said everything was great. You were glad he didn’t pry even further, simply just nodding and going about his day.

Since that night, it seemed like you and Joel had gotten closer. When he had the early morning patrols, he would come by your house with Ellie for dinner that it had become a routine for the three of you. You enjoyed their company though and Ellie knew just exactly how to get your mind off things; she was truly a breath of fresh air and you always found yourself laughing and having a good time with the young girl.

The school was finished; two rooms connected with a variety of small tables and chairs in each room. You had already met the parents and the children, thoroughly excited to start teaching again. You were going to teach all ages, but you had found that there were more younger kids than there were older ones. It seemed like most of the students you were going to teach would be around five to six years old with a small group of ten to twelve year olds. 

You had started teaching and it gave you a sense of purpose and reminded you so much of the old world. It was tough in the beginning, but once you settled into a routine, the kids had found it so enjoyable. You ended every day in the reading corner that you created. All of your students gathered around you, listening intently as you read to them; each day was a different book, but your students were so engaged.

You always stayed until each of your students were picked up by their parents or family members. One day, however, a little girl stayed later than usual. She was sitting at the table, drawing on a piece of paper when you walked over to her.

“Hi Rosie,” you smiled. Her hair was curly, messy, and sat on her shoulders. She looked up at you and flashed you a toothless grin. She had told you all about losing her front teeth and how excited she was that she was now getting bigger. 

She called you by your name with the Miss in front of it and then lifted the piece of paper for you to see.

“I drew a picture.”

“I see that, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s Jackson,” she grinned proudly.

“Looks exactly like it,” you smiled.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps running into the room. You looked up and noticed it was Rosie’s father. He was out of breath and had begun to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. Rosie grinned at the sight of her father, raising her arms to be picked up. “Patrol ran late.”

“No worries. Rosie here was just drawing a picture,” you smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For staying with her. Having this school– It’s been a relief.”

You nodded. The other man was a bit older than you, taller, and definitely muscular. He had blue eyes, brown hair, and dimples whenever he smiled. He was handsome, but he definitely was no Joel Miller. 

“I’m glad,” you replied. “It’s been great to teach again.”

“I’m Jack. Rosie’s dad.” Rosie was already resting her head against her father’s shoulder, her eyes falling shut. 

“I remember,” you said. “We met during the meeting with the other parents.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Sorry, it’s just been–” Jack sighed. “It’s been tough. Patrols are getting tougher. We’re encountering more infected…”

“Well, if you’d like, I don’t mind staying a bit longer with Rosie until you get back to Jackson after patrols.” You offered as your mind drifted to what he had said. Infected. You had killed plenty: clickers, runners, stalkers, even encountered a Bloater once, and it still terrified you. 

“Really?” He asked. “I mean, that’d be great, but you don’t have to. I can figure it out and–”

You shook your head, taking the drawing that Rosie had done and handing it to Jack. “I don’t mind, really. It’s okay.”

Jack smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. “You’re amazing. I owe you.”

You simply gave him a smile. “I’m your daughter’s teacher. It’s part of my job. Don’t worry about it.”

—

You were surprised to see Joel sitting on your porch once you finally walked home. When he saw you, he gave you a small smile and stood from his seat. You walked up your steps and looked over at him, giving him a tight hug.

“Hi,” you said.

Joel returned the hug and immediately missed your warmth once you pulled away to open the door. “Long day?”

You nodded, though you couldn’t stop thinking about what Jack had mentioned about his patrols. It was brief and not a lot of information, but it was enough for you to start ruminating on. Joel followed you inside and you quickly lit up a few candles to illuminate your living room and he noticed how quiet you had gotten again. It was something he took note of for the past couple of weeks. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. “I’m just tired.”

“Should I go?”

Then, you blurted. “What’s going on outside of Jackson?”

“What?”

“Joel…”

He sighed. “Nothin’. We got it handled.”

“What’s going on?”

“Darlin’, you ain’t gotta worry about it.”

“Well, I am!” You exclaimed, not realizing how loud you had gotten. For weeks, you were putting on a facade, a front, masking your emotions and pushing away the nagging thoughts and flashbacks. 

Joel was taken aback, looking at you with a furrowed brow. “It’s under control.”

“You’re lying,” you said. “Don’t lie to me, Joel.”

Joel sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re safe here, in Jackson.”

“Bullshit,” you spat. 

“What’s really goin’ on?”

“I can’t relax,” you mumbled. “I can’t sleep and when I do, I wake up in a sweat and frantic state.” You admitted. “Teaching is a good distraction, but I just thought– I thought I’d be okay.”

“You are,” he sighed. “I’m tellin’ you the truth. We have it under control.”

“The last time someone told me that our entire group was overrun,” you replied almost immediately. “So please… I can handle the truth.”

“The infected…” Joel let out an exhale. “We’re encounterin’ more of them on our patrols, but darlin’, we do have it under control. It’s just tiring.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you.”

“I’m not this fragile little thing that you have to handle with care,” you said. “Stop treating me like I can’t handle myself, like I can’t handle what’s out there. I’ve done it! I’ve experienced it! I was out there, on my own, for over a year!” 

“Okay,” he said. “Okay,” Joel repeated, trying to step closer to you but noticed how you had moved back and away from him.

“You don’t know half the things I’ve done to survive, Joel,” you admitted. “It haunts me… Every second of the day and I can’t run away from it.”

“You did what you had to, to survive,” Joel replied. It was ironic that he was saying the same words that Tommy had told him. Joel understood your dilemma, related exactly to what you were feeling, experiencing, and here you were, being open and vulnerable with him.

“No,” you shook your head. “No.”

“Darlin’...”

“Did you ever stop to think how I made it this far?” You asked. 

“I don’t need to,” he replied. 

“I’ve done so– so many unthinkable things, Joel,” you said with a shaky voice and teary eyes. “I’m so broken…”

“Hey…” Joel hated seeing you like this, hated hearing you talk about yourself like this. “Look at me…”

You looked up at him and felt yourself relax. You had been on edge for weeks and it finally came crashing down. You thought you could push this aside, to force yourself not to think about your past, but it was tough. Your nightmares served as a daily reminder of the things you had done, the people you killed… It was just too much.

“You ain’t alone in feeling like that,” Joel added. He knew that feeling all too well; being broken, damaged goods, and feeling like he didn’t deserve anything good because of the bad things he had done. He took a step closer and sighed in relief when you didn’t move away. “I– I have nightmares too.”

That wasn’t surprising to you. You had heard stories from the people in the community, but truthfully, it didn’t scare you. In fact, it made you feel safer to know that Joel would do anything for the people he cared about. 

“H– How do you deal with it?”

“I don’t,” Joel admitted. “But I probably should.”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” You sighed.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. When he felt your arms wrap around his shoulder, Joel moved his arms to wrap around your waist. Once again, he held you like this, feeling your warmth radiate against him and the feel of your chest heaving against his own. 

“Joel,” you whispered to him. “You’re the only one that can calm me down, that can make me feel safe and I don’t know what that means, but–”

He held you tighter, pressing his lips to your temple. Joel sighed contentedly before he quietly interrupted you. “I’m here… I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You pulled back to look up at him. Your lips were mere inches from his and your arms remained around him. “Joel…”

“Hm?” He whispered, moving his hands to your hips. Joel rubbed circles against the fabric of your shirt, feeling it slightly lift upwards as the pads of his thumbs touched your skin.

“Can I– Can I kiss you?” You asked. A blush crept along your neck to your cheeks, biting your lower lip in anticipation.

Joel smiled and moved a hand to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb brushed against your cheek as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own. 

It was electrifying, feeling your lips slowly move against his. Joel kept his hand on your cheek and used his free hand to bring you flush against him, his hand moving from your hip to your lower back. 

You had imagined this moment plenty of times and yet, this was far better than your imagination. Joel kept a protective hold around you as you felt yourself mold against his strong frame. Your lips moved expertly with his and when you whimpered, Joel used that as an opportunity to dart his tongue out. It was perfect and it was intoxicating.

Joel had to pull away, feeling the center of his pants tighten from the pressure of his member pressing against the fabric. 

“We should–”

“Can you stay?” You interrupted. 

“You sure?” Joel asked.

You nodded. “I just– I don’t want to be alone.”

“That makes two of us,” he whispered. Joel leaned down to peck your lips, smiling once he pulled away. 

You led him down the hallway and to your bedroom. You removed your boots and socks, tossing your flannel to the side. You lied back in bed, clad in a t-shirt and jeans before watching Joel do the same with his own boots. When he climbed into bed with you, you felt yourself instinctively move closer to him. 

Joel was lying on his back with his arm stretched out for you. You smiled to yourself and moved closer until your head rested against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. 

The string lights from outside illuminated your room, giving you and Joel a perfect view of each other. You were staring into each other’s eyes before he leaned down to press his lips against yours once more. 

You moved to lie on your back, feeling him move to hover above you. Joel gently bit at your lower lip, hearing you quietly moan against his lips. The sounds you were making immediately caused a reaction from him, blood rushing straight down to the center of his pants. 

“Joel…” You mumbled against his lips.

He pulled back, his arm propped up with his other hand resting on your hip. “M’sorry, we should stop.”

You shook your head. “I want you.”

Joel grunted lowly. “A– Are you sure?”

“Take me, Joel.”

---

Part 5.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be tagged!): @rye-flower, @3zae-zae3, @orangevtae, @flippittygibbitts​, @blairfox04, @ohthemisssery​, @avengersfan25​, @somebodytookmyusername​, @littleshadow17​, @beltzboys2015-blog​

[heartthumpnovel]

Heart Thump: The Cursed Prince AU

Part 2

Word Count: 9846 Since the short got about nearly a 100 notes (Holy shit you guys :'D) I kind of have to create the promised follow up. This is gonna be a mini-series I think to help break up the monotony of writing the canon story while still being related. Chapter 7 in canon is still cooking so, have this second part being about Natasha convincing Jason to do the one thing I get asked often.... to touch grass. Part 1 Part 2 (you are here)

cw: Implied past abuse, panic attack

—

The morning light flooded gently into the bedroom window as it reflected on the dust settling in the cluttered bedroom. While it wasn’t a complete mess, it had various garments and sewing supplies scattered throughout with a half-completed lute lay on the desk. Definitely needed some love and care around the place.

During the morning rise as the room brightened up, a figure shifted and moaned in the bounds of pillows that nearly covered every square inch of the bed. A dark and nicely taken care of hand reached out from the mountain of pillows to search the bedside for the goblet of water. Her fingers felt the cold marble of it and attempted to grab it, however she missed the mark on it and shuffled the goblet just far enough to where it tipped on the end and made a loud thunk on the floor. “Gods damn it.” Natasha mumbled, dragging herself out of bed. She pulled off the towel that was holding her hair as she forced herself into consciousness. Her dark curled hair fell onto her shoulders and a bit into her eyes. She huffed and rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was supposed to be as it felt like she just got back into bed.

She could smell the morning dew and saw that the light had entered her bedroom, if she had to guess it was just after daybreak. Her eyes widened. “Oh! OH-!” She shouted as she ripped the sheets off of her and let the pillows be thrown all around her bed as Natasha leapt out of bed. 

“Craaaap- I was supposed to finish it today before.. Ugh!” Natasha strode to the lute she was in the middle of repairing and sighed as her fingers trailed the wood of the base. 

“Suppose there’s next time...” Natasha mumbled as she stepped away and opened her wardrobe with force. Her arms searched through the closet that could have been deep enough to hold at least one lion. 

“Right, thinkin’ pink today… ” Natasha said to herself as she rushed to put on her normal going out wear which comprised a nice yet reliable blouse with a vest and her nice riding pants, “And just to be on the safe side…” Natasha pulled out her shoulder guard and attached the belt to her chest. Can never be too safe in the wilder woods, even if everyone she’s met there has been friendly. Though the one person who she met out there was a guy who was trapped in a tower by their royally messed up family, she still considered that one friendly face out there. 

With that, Natasha rushed to her dresser and did her best to braid up her hair on short notice. The dressed up Natasha strolled out of her room and paced down the hallway, trying to think of ideas to bring to her meeting with the cursed prince. Originally it was going to be her bringing some delightful music to play, though her lute broke a few moons back unfortunately, and she’d been procrastinating on fixing the thing. 

While he was on her journey down the hall, the servants doing chores gave their greetings to the noble lady as she passed by them, in turn she also greeted them with a warm smile. “Mornin’ Farin!” “Good day, Sanguine!” “How’s that leg treating you Steven? Hope it gets better soon!” Natasha then made it to the main hall where there was a grand staircase leading to the entryway. Just as she was about to jostle down the stairs, she could hear a woman clear her throat. Natasha sighed and turned around to be met with Miss Gurnda, the chef her mother hired ages ago. “Morning Gurnda, do you need anything?” Natasha asked genuinely. “Oh dear Lady Natasha, Sorry for keeping you but, I’ve noticed you’ve not been home during morning breakfast or lunch. Are you eating well?” The older woman asked with concern in her eyes. “Awwhh,” Natasha said, scratching the back of her head, “I’m sorry ma’am… spring is the best to forage for herbs and I’ve been trying to make sure I’ve had enough supplies before summer hits.” 

Natasha then raised an eyebrow, “Wait what’s that basket for?” Natasha asked as she pointed at a basket with a cloth covering something that smelled of roasted garlic and potato. 

The older woman gave a chuckle and moved the cloth a bit to reveal some nicely done potato rolls, still steaming and the scent was mouthwatering. “I know I won’t be able to keep you here,” The chef said as she handed the basket over to Natasha, “But it will be a chilly day in hell if I left my little rosebud to starve out there.” 

Natasha held the basket handle in her arms, feeling her heart flutter and she reached out an arm to hug Gurnda enthusiastically. “Awh thanks Gurnda!” She cheerfully spoke as she held the basket close to her side, “You’re too sweet.” 

Gurnda returned the gesture with a hug of her own before Natasha made her way down the stairs. The old chef could have sworn that Natasha was in a happier mood than usual. Before Gurnda could wave off Natasha, the noble lady turned around from the grand doors and looked up at her, “Oh and could you do me a favor?” Natasha asked, “Don’t tell ma or pa I’m out in the woods again.” The chief raised a suspicious eyebrow before chuckling. “Alright but, you’re going to be the one to tell them my lady.” 

“I’ll tell them when they stop tellin’ me what to do.” Natasha returned with a grin before she pushed the front doors open to leave. Gurnda sighed as she walked off to do her morning duties as she shook her head. 

----

Natasha rushed towards the stables with her basket of delicious goods as she traversed through the front gardens. She passed by the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming marigolds with a spring in her step. Happy to get to see the cursed prince, as if she was young again and was skipping to a playdate with their childhood best friend.  

Sure, it had only been a month, but visiting Jason during her herb runs had become the highlight of Natasha's days. She never imagined finding happiness while harvesting lavender in the allegedly dangerous wildwoods, where only brave souls dared to venture. But the moment she saw the man grumpily yelling at her to leave, call it cliché if one must, it was love at first sight.

In all the tales and rumors about the cursed Atlas prince, none of them ever described that the giant trapped in the woods was handsome and a cute flustered mess. Though the rumor mill is rarely honest and she found it quite sad to hear people still believing that he’s just some Atlas super weapon gone terribly wrong. Instead of seeing a monster reaching out of the tower to eat nearby travelers, she had seen a lonely man who just needed to get outside. Natasha sighed at that prospect as she left the luscious gardens and headed towards the stables to get her horse ready for another trek in the woods. Despite having spoken with Jason multiple times since their first meeting, he seemed disinterested in leaving the small prison tower. While it was understandable that he feared people hunting him down, Natasha couldn't help feeling crestfallen whenever he gazed wistfully towards the outside world.

"Hey Nirvana," Natasha greeted her white and brown spotted steed, who was busy munching on hay, "You ready to go?" The horse responded with a huff before pulling its head out of the hay, swishing its tail indifferently. Natasha brushed her fingers through the horse's mane and secured the basket of delicious dumplings.

“Where the hells do you think you’re going?” a familiar gruff voice spoke up that made Natasha’s shoulder’s jump. Damn it.

Natasha smiled and turned around to see her childhood best friend and coincidentally, the head of the city guard. The knight was already dressed down from head to toe in his steel armor that only lacked his helmet to let his brown curly hair lie low as it allowed him to show his disapproved scowl. “Ohhh heeeyy Axel,” Natasha said, “How’s it going?” “Don’t give me that ya weasel,” Axel spoke with his hands going to his hips, “You’ve literally been ditching sword training all week.” He would not let her off the hook. Natasha sighed as she turned back to her horse to complete tying the basket to the saddle, “You know I really don’t gotta do that, unlike you knights.” She commented with a side eye as she could feel the angry stare Axel was giving her through his bangs. 

“Yeah I guess but, who was the one to ask about getting trained!?” Axel scoffed, he clasped his two hands together and pressed them on his cheek as he pretended to speak with an exaggerated higher pitch and whimsy.

"Oh, Axel, you're so strong and badass! If only I, a child with a silver spoon in my mouth, could swing a sword like you! Could you pwetty pwease teach me your ways so I can defend myself in the big scary woods while I pick pretty flowers?~" “Oh shut up! I don’t talk like that.” Natasha retorted with an eye roll, “Look I’m sorry I’ve not been able to make it, I’ve just been busy with spring.” 

Axel huffed, leaning against the barn wall behind Natasha. "Come on, Nat, what's really going on?" he asked, watching as Natasha tried her best to ignore him. "You love beating up the hay dummies at the training grounds."

Natasha loved Axel like a brother, but he could also be annoying like one too. "I'm practicing a special formation called Nyanabussiness, bloodhound," Natasha said, making the mistake of glancing up at him. That one point of eye contact was enough for Axel to understand what she was hiding.

“You…” Axel said with a mischievous grin, “Youuuu are sneaking out to see someone!” Damn it. The knight burst into laughter with the sounds of his chain-mail clanking. He put a hand on his forehead and tried to regain his composure to speak as Natasha’s cheeks darkened. She sputtered trying to hide what she already pulled out to the open. “It-it’s not like that-” Natasha tried to interject though the knight wasn’t letting up. 

"AHAHAHA- oh gods, this is rich!" Axel exclaimed before patting Natasha's shoulder hard, "Who's the unlucky sod?"

The noble laughed before shoving the knight away playfully, “We’re not courting!” Natasha said, “We’ve just been hanging out at his place since he’s a bit of a hermit.” 

“Oh wow,” Axel said as he scratched his slightly hairy jaw, “The daughter of politicians is going out to see a lowly hermit in the wilder woods… scandalous.” He smirked as he watched Natasha untie the reins off of the stable’s post. “It won't be scandalous if nobody finds out.” Natasha pointed out as she grabbed the saddle of her steed and hopped right onto the horse. Axel just stood there and crossed his arms, he knew better than to stop her. 

"Alright, well, take care, will ya? I ain’t in the mood to come and rescue you," Axel said half-jokingly as Natasha rode the horse out of the stable. She didn't bother to look back and responded with a sarcastic thumbs up as the horse galloped away.

Axel shook his head with a tsk under his breath, hoping that Natasha knew what she was doing.

----

Most people feared the wilder woods for a good reason; it was a dangerous place if one wasn’t careful. While the forest itself seemed perfectly safe at first glance, with beautiful flora growing and the wild life thriving in this ecosystem, it was dense and made for a good hiding spot for bandit camps or rogue magic users. Since it was also the middle point of the Atlas and Solaris kingdom with a rather profitable trade route, many who worked outside the law found this forest to be a haven for their robberies. 

Thankfully Natasha had known a good part of these woods for a while and usually traveled away from the primary routes. Her horse was trained to traverse off of paths and she had steered clear of smoke from campfires. Criminals weren’t the only thing she was cautious of however, she had heard of fae being active in the area and while she had seen none herself; she made a note to avoid rings of mushrooms and marked focus sites. And then there are those who warned of the mysterious giant. That one she chose to ignore. 

Her heart raced as she found the grove that had hidden away the initial path to the clearing with the tower. Natasha didn’t want to risk getting her horse hurt from having to traverse through the underbrush, so she tied Nirvana up to a tree branch. Before she left through the bushes, she untied the basket from the saddle and patted the steed gently on his muzzle. “That’s a good boy…” Natasha whispered as she pulled her hand away, “Yell if there’s trouble you hear me?” The horse huffed in acknowledgement before it leaned it’s neck down to eat the luscious grass growing by the tree’s roots. Natasha turned to the grove and made her way through the prickly bushes and leaves as she protected the goods within the basket. By now she knew her way through the branches and had made a small path for herself after countless visits. She was cautious to not get her clothes torn because she wouldn’t hear the end from her mother. 

Once she pushed aside the final bush, she saw the aging stone brick tower that was settled within the forest clearing. If Natasha wasn’t aware of the context that prison held, it would have been a nice centerpiece for a painting. It wasn’t a watch tower, she had seen similarly designed buildings before. The tower that stood tall in front of her was a prison for those who were banished, thus the maddening monotony of the brickwork was hardly a pleasant subject for a picture.

The noble wondered how in the world Jason held himself together in that place. Natasha wished deep within her heart that he would just let her free him to avoid such a terrible fate. 

Never minding that, she pressed on through the clearing and traversed over the small walking bridge to get to the base of the tower. She cleared her throat and called up to the lone stone balcony to beacon the prince. 

“Rapunzel, Rapanuzel, let down your hair!” Natasha yelled. “How many times are you going to use that joke?!” The voice from up above responded.

“Hey, I still think it’s funny!” Natasha responded as she crossed her arms. She listened closely from below, as she could hear a little clanking and rustling. This time around she pondered if she was going to see him large once more. He had ‘shifted’ for lack of a better word to describe it, twice after their first meeting. However, he hasn’t shifted drastically since then or, she just hadn't noticed. While it pained her a little to not witness the magical phenomenon again, she understood that it wasn’t her choice to make.

Eventually, she spotted those adorable wide hazel eyes peeking over the stone balcony, and those thin piano-like fingers clutching onto the edge. A smile spread across her face as she raised her hand to wave at the prince within the tower.

"Hey, how's it going, big guy?" Natasha called upwards, unsure if Jason had transformed into his taller state, as the distance between them made it hard to tell.

Jason revealed his smooth face and lanky chest, flashing a sweet dimpled smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, you know, not doing much out here," Jason replied, "Though I did finally figure out a good balance to make tea from the lavender you graciously gave me." He twiddled his thumbs over the edge of the balcony, contemplating something important. “Uhm, would you kindly join me for a spot of tea?” He asked, loud enough to be heard but quiet because of nervousness. “You want me to climb up there?!” Natasha excitedly asked, fully prepared to make the climb if she had to- but, right after saying that Jason shot down her suggestion. “OH, no no no!” Jason exclaimed as he waved his hands, “I-I wouldn’t want you to accidentally injure yourself from climbing up here and me being.. well, me.” Natasha felt disappointed for a moment, “Awh… then how-" Before she could finish Jason pushed away from the balcony and came back with a tied basket in hand. He smiled in pride as he patted the items covered in the basket. “Keeping safety in mind, I’d thought I would just send your portion just uh, be careful with my tea set will you?” Jason said with sheepish politeness in his speech, “It’s the only one I have.” 

While it was a downer that they would not be meeting face-to-face, she guessed he wasn’t ready for that yet. Natasha brushed off the disappointment with an excited thumbs up and a wink. 

“I’ll treat it as gently as a newborn,” Natasha swore as she raised a hand in oath. With that, Jason gently hung his basket on the rope so graciously given to him from the first time they met. The basket slowly came down and it landed softly between Natasha’s palms as she reached up to it. 

As she untied the basket from the rope, it ascended once more. Natasha wasn't about to let that happen. “Woah, hold on there, your majesty,” Natasha's voice was filled with playful reproach as she tied her own parcel with the rope. Of course, she nabbed one bun before tugging on the rope twice. 

It took a couple of moments of stunned silence when the basket disappeared from Natasha’s sight for Jason to acknowledge what Natasha sent up. This gesture felt just like a gift exchange as they each unraveled the goods within their respective baskets. 

“You made pastries!?” Jason exclaimed as his head popped out of the window, she could tell he was smiling, “Oh gods, you didn’t have to feed me!” 

“Kinda obligated to,” Natasha spoke as she unfolded the blankets that were keeping the teapot warm, “We’re friends now after all.” 

Natasha heard the tower’s bricks crumble a bit from above as she unveiled a surprisingly humble tea set. It was indeed porcelain, though it was plain white and had a single blue rose insignia on the side of the pot itself. Sure it was nice though, she expected a royal first born like Jason to have something more gaudy.

She held it up to examine it further with her curious dim wine eyes before pouring a cup of her own. Smells of the lavender and honey had a very relaxing effect on her senses the moment she poured it. Definitely wasn’t something she should drink this early in the day but, she was gracious for the free drink.

“Dang this really nice,” Natasha said as she held the teacup in her lap, “It’d be great for a bad night’s sleep that’s for sure.” The lack of response from Jason prompted her to look up to see he had gone back into the tower. The first thing she noticed when he did return was his towering form, about as tall as a healthy apple tree, crouched from below the window frame. She had to try extremely hard to hold back laughter when it looked like he had a comically small teacup and plate in his large hands. Despite the sight looking ridiculous, his fingers held it regally as a future king should and rolled his eyes, Wondering what was so funny. 

“Ahem- Apologizes if the tea is a bit sedative,” Jason spoke as he held the tiny cup to his lips, “I’m used to preparing it this way so I can calm down whenever … this happens.” With that he inhaled deeply and despite being farther away, Natasha could see his form shrink immediately with a calmed sigh. With that- Jason took a sip. “Ahh, see? Much better..” He said as he leaned on the side of the balcony to gain a better viewpoint of Natasha. 

“This stuff isn’t going to shrink me too is it?” Natasha asked as she was in mid-sip.

Jason had to hold back laughter to not spill his tea and swallow harshly in order to correct her. He cleared his throat with a few pats to his chest. “Ahem- Heavens no!” Jason explained, “Height altering stuff like that doesn’t exactly work on me, plus even if it did- I wouldn’t think of spiking you with it!”  Jason stirred the tea with a small silver spoon as he shook his head. “It’s just a calming agent,” Jason said, “Frankly it’s not even alchemy and yet, for some reason works the best to help me get back into the right shape.” 

A pit fell within Natasha’s stomach. ‘Right shape’?  Something about the way he was referring to himself wasn’t sitting right with her. Her eyes stared into her cup for a moment in silence, thinking. 

“Uh?” The voice from above spoke in confusion, “Is everything alright Lady Maryrose?”

Natasha suddenly chugged down the lavender tea and set her cup in the basket with a determined look on her face that was barely masked with a sweet smile. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Natasha said, “I think this tea party would be a lot nicer if we were by a scerne lake, wouldn’t you agree?” By the look of his grimminced face that too was also masked by a grin, his voice seemed to be peaceful but his eyes told a much different story. “I-I mean I suppose it would-” Jason shuddered as he put his own drink down, “Shame really.”

“Why shame though?,” Natasha interjected as she put one hand on her hip and the other pointed her thumb to the woods, “I know a great secluded pond near here that I think you’d like-” “You know I can’t do that!” Jason interrupted, a tinge of sadness prevailed through his firmness, “The cursed prince of the Anderheart family AKA, ME, stays in the tower in order lest he cause the end of the world!”

“Says who? Your dad? I don’t see him around to catch you sneaking out ya know.” Natasha spoke with a grin as she laid a hand on the stone walls, “Even from down here I know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you tried.”

“I-uh, No, I mean-” Jason fumbled as he crossed his arms inward, “What-what if I can’t control myself and accidentally step on you!?” She had the audacity to shrug. “Eh, accidents happen.” “...Natasha.” 

Before the prince could acknowledge Natasha’s rather self destructive behavior, she placed her hand on the wall gently as she looked up at him with eyes that were just as earnest as a kitten. “Wouldn’t it be nice to change scenery once in a while Jason?” Natasha said, “You have your calming agent with you so if you get uncomfortable out here we can deal with it.” She then clasped her hands together with a smile, “I’ll admit, I’d really like to see you up close.” 

Jason's expressions were unreadable as he turned away. Anxieties bubbled within Natasha as she wondered if it was too early to make such a request. She knew he was resolute about staying indoors, yet, as an outsider looking in, it pained her to witness anyone in such misery. This simply wasn’t just. 

“I suppose if one were to think about it…” Jason spoke up, Natasha darted her gaze upward, “It seems like curing my curse isn’t going to be an option, so perhaps I could train myself to stay calm and be basically normal. ” 

Natasha sighed, while that wasn’t exactly the mindset she was hoping for, it was going to be better than nothing. “So are you gonna come out?” Natasha asked. “...Yes.” Jason answered, he turned around whipping his face with his long silk sleeve.

----

“Actually- I might not be too sure about this!” Jason squealed as he was holding onto the rope, his butt having not even left the stone balcony. He sat upon the balustrade with both of his legs dangling. He could already feel the sweat form on his palms as he was gripping on the twine. They’d already been able to get the basket into Natasha’s arms and the last thing they needed to send down was the cowardly prince himself.

While a door would have been the more sane option, these towers weren’t made for prisoners to just up and leave. The only way to enter the tower, or for things to be transported in, was this measly balcony. Sure it wasn’t a problem for his druid friend who could turn into a bird anytime she pleased but, Jason was far from any wild shape master.

“You’re gonna be fine!” Natasha shouted upwards, “Just hold on to the rope and step down against the stone wall real slowly, you don’t want rope burns!” She set the basket down next to the teapot package beside her and outstretched her arms. “I’ll catch ya if you fall,” she said with a wink, “You trust me right?” “Ri-right…” Jason mumbled, he wasn’t sure if he’d developed a fear of heights or if the little Atlas pleaser in the back of his mind was telling him he was making a grave mistake. However, he’d gotten this far, and he didn’t want to get her hopes up for nothing. 

Jason took in a deep breath of the spring air, closed his eyes, slowly pushed himself off the edge and pressed his heels onto the stone wall. If it weren’t too late to turn back now, he’d be scrambling to get back to the safety of his cage. His heart was beating out of his chest and sweat dripped from his forehead as he hopped his way down. He nearly fumbled as for a moment his left foot lost traction, he gripped on tight to the rope with another squeal with his eyes held shut. His scrawny arms had already strained as he held onto dear life. “Get yourself back onto the wall Jason!!” called Natasha, her worry starting to set in, “You’re doing great for your first time!”

“I doubt that…” mumbled Jason as he swung his legs back into position and made another kick down. About two-thirds of the way through, the climb had already felt like hours rather than just mere moments and Jason was putting his full focus into not-- 

“KA-CAWH!” “AH!- aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!” 

An unfortunate crow decided that moment was the perfect time to swoop down near the eardrums of the prince and scream the song of its people. Good for the bird, not great for Jason as his hands lost grip on the rope. Jason screamed, believing his short and rather pathetic life had ended in an ironic tragedy. 

“Oh sh- I GOT YOU!” Was the last thing Jason heard before he shut his eyes, his world going dark. 

---- 

"AGH! Oh my Gods—Jason, are you alright!?" Natasha exclaimed, her voice filled with concern, as she felt Jason's limp body fall into her arms. "J-Jason!? Anderheart!? Your majesty, are you okay?!" she cried out.

She kept her balance despite the surprise leap as she stumbled from the impact. Her arms instinctively held onto him tight, her heart feeling like it could burst out of her chest with fear. Looking down upon the prince, she could feel him breathing through her hands. Releasing a sigh of relief, Natasha jostled him a little to see if he would wake up. That’s when she noticed a few things about him. Firstly; he was tiny. Not as small as a halfling or a forest elf but, he was definitely short for a grown man and he was as light as a barely filled sack of cabbages. On account of his gangly arms, he definitely wasn’t fit enough to scale the tower. Natasha wasn’t even a classically strong woman herself and yet, she was having no problem holding him.

Secondly; she noticed his pale skin which looked like it hadn't seen direct sunlight in a while, which to be fair, was the truth. Despite this however, it wasn’t pristine as there were a few tattle tale bruises from his collarbone and forehead. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that these were from surprise growth spurts from the claustrophobic walls of the chamber. If it went for the regal clothing and the sparkly dark opal on his circlet, people would believe he was in prison for a decade. 

Lastly… well, he was strikingly handsome. Natasha had to admit when she first saw him, she thought he was pretty cute from far away but, up close it was like the gods blessed this man with the jawline and fae-like daintiness. She’d felt a pang of guilt for teasing him when they first met. Sure, it probably was flirting but, her playful flirting was used to see if she could call a bluff about ‘magical growth powers’ Jason warned about. A groan startled Natasha out of her thoughts, noticing that Jason stirred and his doe-like hazel eyes, that were hidden behind his knocked askew lenses, squinted from the light. 

“Ugh, did I make … it…” Jason murmured, his fingers rising to re-adjust his glasses, before his eyes fully widened as they were met with eyes of near celestial dim wine eyes.

While they were both blushing, Jason’s face turned completely pink and despite being in a trance, Natasha could feel her arms suddenly undertake a mysterious weight. Suddenly, Jason squirmed dramatically and pushed himself out of her comforting embrace. Natasha would have been more disheartened about that if she hadn’t seen his previously frail form lurch in height.

She let the fallen angel go and bore witness to the curse, almost doubling him in size, though he somehow still looked lanky even if he was in the same size class as an earth troll. Natasha was struck with awe, staring at him without saying a word for a moment. While no fear touched Natasha’s heart in the slightest, the feeling wasn’t shared with Jason. 

The, now 7ft, prince’s face flashed with terror as he backed up against the stone walls of the tower. His gaze darted between Natasha and at the stone balcony above as he tried to catch his hyperventilating breath.  “No no no no!” Jason finally spoke up with a distinct stuttering in his voice, “It’s already happening, This was a mistake!” He spun around and attempted to grab the stone bricks with his large frail hands, failing to get anywhere as his palms stung from the rope burn. 

“I-I need to get back inside!” he shouted in panic, not noticing Natasha approached him once again to get his attention. 

“Jason?… Jason…” Natasha’s pleas fell on panic-stricken ears, “Hey, it’s okay!” She huffed when her voice was being tuned out by the prince’s scared ramblings. Her initial approach of treating Jason like a frightened rabbit wasn’t working out, so she took the next step.

His flowing shirt sleeve was jerked down hard enough to where Jason finally shut his mouth in surprise. His own shoulders tensed and he turned his gaze back down. When their eyes met once more, Natasha’s heart fell as his eyes were trembling and nearly welling up in tears.  

Oh, the poor thing.

"And check it out, you’re free!" Natasha reassured, her gesture encompassing the blossoming meadow that surrounded them. A smile graced her lips, beholding the realization dawned upon Jason. He fell into silence, his mouth slightly agape as he contemplated the situation. His eyes left Natasha and his gaze fell upon the lively grove that surrounded the tower. 

Gradually, he moved, stepping away from the tower and crossing a small water stream. Natasha followed close behind him, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She couldn't help but wonder about the sensation of breaking through the constraints that had bound him for so long.

His near-pristine shoes brushed against the fresh grass and the gentle spring breeze lifted his charcoal hair gently. There was a pause in his movement and Jason just stood there, presumably taking it all in. Natasha trotted to catch up with his longer legs and crossed her arms, joining him in admiring how lovely the forest was. 

Warmness filled her heart, seeing the childlike wonder in his eyes from the wilderwood’s kind greeting. The sunlight held the prince’s skin in a motherly embrace and songs were sung by the insect fauna. At that moment, it was as if she was seeing a whole new person.

A tear dripped down his cheek, which was followed by a soft smile. 

“Not bad huh?” Commented Natasha, nearly tearing up herself. “No… not bad at all.” Jason responded. 

----

Truly, words from Jason’s favorite novels could not have described the lovely ambiance of an enchanting forest. Glances through his window had only a fraction of the majesty of a soft breeze and the sounds of thriving life surrounding them. It was beautiful, and with the sun warming their casual stroll, one would assume Jason would have been having the time of his life. 

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

In actuality, Jason was in complete inner turmoil whether Natasha knew it or not. It was only just a couple of minutes since they left the view of the tower, but Jason was already being plagued with thoughts of doubt; wondering if he was a bad person for putting the world in jeopardy for a simple picnic, and he was hyper aware of every thought that passed through his mind. He’d already lost control when he fell into the comforting embrace of Natasha when he stupidly let go of the rope. Now he’d be stuck being as tall as a horse, if that horse was on hind legs. 

On the other hand though, it proved useful that he could now carry both baskets easily and keep walking pace with Natasha, who was on her steed. It would only be a minute before they arrived at this pond the noble spoke of, by then Jason could drink the tea and shrink back to normal as planned. 

However, Jason was now finding it much, much harder to control his thoughts as he’d discovered something else detrimental to the picnic plan that he didn’t account for.  

He foolishly fell in love. 

Perhaps it was the rush of being saved by a captivating and free-spirited noblewoman, but when he looked into her mystical eyes, it was as if Cupid's arrow had struck him. Unfortunately, his curse, triggered by a racing heart, wasn't connected to happiness. It was specifically romantic love that caused his growth spurts. While romantic themes in literature or daydreams about being saved by a knight could trigger the curse, he had never actually felt romantic love for another person until now. Jason barely made eye contact with Natasha since they left the tower, though he’d unconsciously risk looking at her as they kept conservation. It might have been the newness of being this close to another human being that wasn’t Ellinor, but he couldn’t help but to take in the details he noticed about Natasha, now that they were side-by-side. For trekking out in the woods as often as she did, her blouse with intricate lace was prim and proper for a lady in a well off household. Even her riding pants were only a bit stained at the bottom from the kicked up dirt. Though despite the initial daintiness her appearance was, she had a steel arm guard on her shoulder and a standard short sword holstered at her hip. Jason remembered her mentioning that she was trained to weld a blade for protection. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she had to use it very often. What really caught his attention though, was the soft cheeks of her face and lovely eyes. Plus her braided hair was extremely impressive, and she pulled off the look very well. 

“Ahem, Jason?” Natasha spoke up as she caught him blatantly staring at her. Jason looked down, noticing that the basket handles he had looped on his forearms were suddenly tight. The horse needed to have a pat on the head to calm itself when Jason suddenly sprouted another foot and a half. “S-sorry! I’m trying to keep it together the best that I can out here…” He mumbled, swiftly staring down at his now dirted leather shoes, “I’m doing a rather terrible job at it.”

“You’re doing just fine, big guy,” Natasha responded, “You’ve haven’t attempted to flee to that dinky prison more than once.” “That’s not even what I meant…” Jason grumbled, turning his gaze back to Natasha, “Could I ask you something actually?”

“Try me,” Natasha said, looking up at the giant with an eager grin.

“Why are you not terrified right now?” Jason said as matter of factly as asking how someone’s day went, “Everyone else, even Ellinor, gets tense when I transform like this.”  

Natasha jolted a bit when she had to hold back a huge laughing fit, this just confused Jason even more. Before Natasha could give her explanation, Jason leaned down a bit over her in confusion.

“I’m serious!” Jason said, “Just because I’m not prone to violence and raised to be a polite young prince doesn’t make the growth any less strange! How are you calm about all this!?” Upon catching her breath from the laugh she had to hold back, Natasha closed her eyes confidently, petting the back of her steed’s mane. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re capable of hurting anybody,” Natasha said, “Not only that, My best friend is a lycan and trust me, those guys have it much more gruesome compared to your little spurts.”

At first Jason nodded, thinking that was a perfectly reasonable response until… “Wait!? A LYCAN!? You mean a werewolf!?” Spouted Jason, thinking he somehow heard wrong as there was no way a gentlelady like Natasha could be associated with one of the most dangerous beings to roam the Atlas forests. He had never encountered one himself, but he has read stories of mortal men being cursed to turn into fearsome beasts and eat innocent people. Natasha could see Jason’s face run pale, but didn’t let Jason squawk the lies he’s been fed. “Right, I almost forgot you’re Atlan,” Natasha said, “Most of them are nothing like the stories in your books, They’re pretty much sentient as humans are and got instincts of a dog, not a monster.” 

“But-but the attacks..” Jason mumbled. “Either bandits, or newbies who think the only way to fill their hunger is by eating people because that’s what they were told werewolves do.”

“Oh-oh..” Jason didn’t exactly have proof of his own to stand on, and the fact he is a cursed man himself didn’t have the right to assume terrible things about others. “I suppose I trust your judgment more than anyone else’s,” Jason said, “I’m sorry for assuming your friend was a beastly brute…” “Oh no he totally is,” Natasha responded with a laugh, “While he gets on my nerves, he’s been there for me since we were kids.”  “Ah.. I see,” Jason said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Truly you are not a judgmental person.”

“What’s there to judge?” Natasha said nonchalantly. “Right we’re just about there.” 

After turning the corner, blocked by thorn bushes, Jason let out an audible gasp upon beholding the breathtaking lake. He had encountered depictions of lakes in drawings, but this scene far surpassed his expectations. The sight before him exceeded his imagination; the water sparkled under the midday sun, while life teemed in vibrant abundance all around it.

“Whatcha think?” Natasha asked, dismounting her horse and securing the lead to a nearby branch. Jason had already begun making his way toward the lake, emitting a low whistle. The innate beauty of nature had always drawn the prince, it also served as a distraction from certain matters on his mind. “The water looks nice,” Jason commented as he set the baskets down on the lush grass near the water’s edge, “Didn’t expect a lake filled with this much life to be so clear.”

Natasha was quick to approach his side and playfully elbowed his free arm with a smile. “You wanna go for a dip?” Natasha suggested, though Jason’s eyes darted away from her with embarrassed mumbles. "Actually, I can't swim," Jason admitted candidly. "Life in the tower and all that..." “Oh,” Natasha’s spirit fell a little, though life returned to her eyes when she spun around and raced towards her horse. “That’s alright! Let me get the blanket!” It didn’t take long for the picnic to be set up as they brought little to eat. However humble it was though, it was more than enough for the both of them. After all, the food and drink played second fiddle to the enjoyable company they shared. Jason had to confess that the buns Natasha had brought were not only the spiciest but also the most delectable filled pastries he'd ever tasted. 

The conversation they shared started small, but like meadow flowers, it bloomed beautifully. At one point the both of them were having so much fun, Jason’s height relaxed to a size where he could comfortably sit on the checkered blanket.

“There actually hasn’t been another heir in your kingdom,” Natasha explained as she stirred her spoon in her cup, “From what I heard, the current king is having terrible luck bearing any, so technically you’re still next in line if you wanted the crown.” “Ugh,” Jason groaned, “Even if the people magically want me to be their ruler somehow, I don’t think I’d be cut out for it...” He shifted his arms to hug his knees, taking a break from drinking to not hog all of it himself. “Heh, yeah same honestly.” Natasha answered, though didn’t seem to elaborate on what she meant as she stared off into the lake. This piqued Jason’s curiosity and he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Say, you never really talk about who your family is...” Jason mentioned, noticing Natasha suddenly not wanting to make eye contact, “You’re a noble right?” A pit fell into his stomach when she didn’t respond right away with the warm demeanor she’d had up to this point. He lightly tapped on his cup with a finger. “I apologize if that’s a bad subject for you-” Jason tried to cool it over but Natasha interjected with a sigh. “Nah, nah it’s alright,” she said, finally turning her head in his direction, “My parents are good people, it’s just…” She had to think for a moment to find her words, Natasha fiddled with one of the loose strands on her hair. “My family is a part of the governing Circle in Solaris, has been voted in to help rule for generations.” “So you’re basically a princess?” Jason questioned, he wasn’t quite knowledgeable about Solaris politics and had a basic understanding of the democratic process. 

“Definitely not, ” Natasha responded, “The people are the ones who decide who gets to be in the Circle, I’d have to campaign just like anyone else and most of the time have a choice to run.” “But you don’t?” Jason wondered, bending down a little to be eye level with Natasha. “My parents have raised me to be in the Circle just like the generations before me,” Natasha said with anger boiling in her chest, “Hells, if I even mention the thought about doing something else other than government work they throw a HUGE fit!” She crossed her arms, still not wanting to make eye contact. 

“I hate how we honor freedom for all and yet for some reason I’m selfish for wanting to have freedom of choice!?” Natasha ranted, grabbing the sides of her head, “Now that I’m old enough for professional study, they have been insistent to tie me down to study bureaucracy! It’s just so…” “Not fair?” Jason said. “Yeah.” Natasha confirmed. 

In order to comfort her, Jason attempted to reach a hand down and pat her lightly on the shoulder in solidarity. Though as his palm made contact with her vest, his hand roiled and Jason hissed a bit in pain. Natasha jumped a little and spun around to see Jason cringing at the sight of his raw palms.

“You alright!?” Natasha asked in concern, standing up to get a better look at Jason’s hands. “Owww, that smarts…” Jason grumbled as he rubbed the small burn wounds, “My hands are still in pain from the rope incident.” 

“Let me have a peek at them,” Natasha said as she reached her hands over to gently grasp the tips of Jason’s fingers, pulling them close to her. He could feel her soft hands rub against the rough skin on the injury slightly. It caught Jason’s surprise when instead of closely inspecting the wound, she just closed her eyes and started to whisper a single word that he couldn’t quite catch. His hands jolted from surprise when a pleasant glow formed around his palms. The light managed to obscure the burns, though he could feel the rough pain from the warm wounds dissipate instantly. It felt like a pleasant chill upon his hands and just as fast as it appeared, the light faded away to reveal his hands being completely healed. 

Jason looked at Natasha in awe and before he could speak, she already had an answer ready for him. “Dad used to be a cleric,” Natasha explained, “He taught me a few handy cantrips but, I can’t do anything majorly breathtaking.” “But, you are breathtaking...” Natasha raised her head, wondering if she heard him correctly, though she was met with a sight of an incredibly flustered man who just realized that he said a thought that wasn’t meant to be said out loud. This was also the moment where Jason realized not only did he accidentally flirt with her, but he was holding her hands. 

The scandal.

Suddenly, his hands engulfed hers, and the growth spurt triggered his knees to nudge a teacup, toppling it over and threatening to break its porcelain rim. Jason’s heart was beating wildly, and the enlargement kept startling pace with it. He barely had time to scramble away from her as his surroundings became wildly different from before. His surroundings morphed into an entirely different scale, the once-shady trees now surrounded him, the once-vast lake seemed a mere puddle.

Struggling for breath, he crawled back on his hands, retreating toward the clearing's edge, which now wasn't far from the picnic site that had been so peaceful before. Horrified that his shoe was now large enough to topple it all over and it was right beside Natasha, who at this point was standing up with an unreadable shock on her face. "Jason?!" Natasha exclaimed, extending a comforting arm. "Okay, let's take some deep breaths, big guy—" She moved closer, but before she could reach him, he yelped, scaring the birds from their nests in a cacophony of fear.

"DON'T COME CLOSER!" His shout, though unintended, rang out powerfully, the potency of his voice a byproduct of his size. He regretted it instantly, aware of how dangerous his voice had become at this scale. The sight of Natasha covering her ears only intensified his heartache. Closing his eyes tightly, he felt the grass beneath him meld together, the oak branch he'd backed into pressing heavily atop his head. “Yeesh, no need to take out my hearing.” Natasha's voice pierced through, her intent unclear as she ventured closer despite his plea. He struggled to curl up further as he embiggened, knees pulling toward his chest. “I- I'm sorry.” Jason mumbled relatively quietly. The tightness in his chest didn’t alleviate and his fingers had gone numb as he gripped his hands close to his sides, beseeching his own subconscious to regain control. He hadn't been this height since…

Old spear head wounds burned on his gut and ghostly impressions of chains of his past clutched his throat. He could barely recall anything but the pain and the harsh words pitted against him by the very guards sworn to protect the family. 

His body, as quickly as it began expanding, stopped engulfing the grove they were in, however Jason could tell he wasn’t shrinking back to normal. A frightful thought raced through his mind, his stomach churned at the thought of him being stuck as a gigantic beast daring to feel anything other than dismay. 

His mind, clouded and unable to think of anything other than the pain he’d been enduring his whole life, he could hardly hear Natasha’s voice getting closer to him. Though he managed to understand some of her words as he could feel a tiny tug pull on his sleeve. “Your knuckles are going pale,” Natasha’s voice said to him, “Unclench them and breathe hun, you’re safe.” Jason swallowed, and uncurled his fingers as she requested. As he was comforted by her presence, he couldn’t help the guilt boiling up inside himself for putting her in not only an uncomfortable situation, but a dangerous one at that. He tried to speak up, but he couldn’t find the strength to talk through his hyperventilating. Immediately he was soothed by pats on the edge of his forearm which felt as if a swallow decided to perch on his arm. “Come on, deeeep breaths,” Natasha encouraged as she demonstrated herself while speaking, “Nice and sloowwww.” He struggled to find a moment, but when he did, he took a long deep breath of air and shakily released it. Feeling was beginning to return to his body as he could sense the small blades of grass on the ground and the wetness on his cheeks. Despite him re-gaining his senses, he still refused to let himself have his vision back. Deep down he knew that whatever he was going to see, it would probably make him pass out completely. Jason managed to clear his throat and speak with a pathetic whimper in his tone. 

“I-I am so sorry,” Jason said, “Th-this is very unbecoming of me… Hells, I ruined everything didn’t I?” He choked back tears, and tried his best to hold sobs. He heard a quiet chuckle that was paired with an out of place sniff, “Nobody looks dashing crying,” her voice spoke, “And that doesn’t matter… trust me you’ve done nothing wrong.” Jason could sense her presence lean over his wrist, her gentle touch petting the back of his hand just as if someone was tracing their smallest finger tip across it. “Didn’t realize how bad this could get..” Natasha wearily commented as Jason steadied himself. The giant heaved a sigh while his head hung low. “I told you,” Jason spoke, “This is why I have to be locked away…”

“That’s not what I mean.” Natasha sighed as she momentarily retracted the touch Jason yearned for. Before he could ask what she meant by that, he felt the air swish over his wrist and then a tug at his side of his waist. He’d almost forgotten he was curled up against an oak tree for a moment. He felt pressure wobble on top of his stomach, a sensation he’d yet to feel when he was rarely large like this. His ears then caught Natasha’s small voice in front of him, confirming the presence that was now standing on him was her. “Please open your eyes,” Natasha said, “I need you to look at me.” “B-b-but what if I-” Jason stammered. “It’s going to be okay,” Natasha re-affirmed, “I promise.” He froze. Two trains of thought had collided in his mind. On one hand he was worried if he were to see her beautiful face again he’d destroy the entire forest however, Jason’s trust had been handed over to Natasha many times before and if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have had the courage to step outside the prison he thought he could never leave. It may have been naïve of Jason, but ever since they’ve met that fateful day he felt like he her judgment was solid. Especially how annoying she could be with her earnestness. Jason gently let his breath go, not wanting to blow away his passenger off of his chest, and opened his eye lids gingerly. 

He had to adjust his eyes from the afternoon sun shining, though once he managed to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. The scene was just about the same before he closed his eyes; his body took up nearly half of the shore of the lake and the picnic blanket could have easily been mistaken as a handkerchief. However, when his pupils focused on the figure in front of his face and standing just below his lower ribs, he noticed that an adorably small Natasha was staring right at him. Though was she… crying? 

----

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Natasha thought if maybe, just maybe, the prince would find happiness by stepping outside and figuring out that he didn’t need to be miserable for the rest of his life just because he was cursed. Sure, it would probably be rough the first few trips into the woods but what she failed to account for was the situation of him having a full blown panic attack. Self love evidently wasn’t easy to teach. Especially if she didn’t practice much of it herself. 

Guilt riddled her soul when she saw that mortified face and subsequent tears that followed. How could she have not realized that he was going to rehash horrible feelings from growing to a height that he was forbidden to be at? In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been so selfish and taken this entire going outside thing slowly. Her need to see his charming face up close had forced him to confront his issues far before he was ready to. Did she even have the right to trample on his boundaries like that? These thoughts boiled over as her tears betrayed her when she stood face-to-face with Jason. 

“I’m.. so sorry.”

She choked up, staring into those enormous doe eyes. His eyes were slightly red from the tears that were going down his cheeks. The uncertain twitches of his lower eyelids steadied themselves once his pupils managed to dilate upon seeing her. Jason spoke up in a gentle whisper, which at this size sounded more like it was at a speaking level with a rasp in his tone.

“Oh no no no…” Jason said, “You didn’t do anything that heeds an apology.” Natasha clenched her fists, she felt like the giant prince was just being cordial for her sake. She was hoping to hear him say that she forgives her miss-step. Her head shook. “You don’t have to be so undeservedly kind to me,” Natasha said through tears, “I messed up big time and took away your sense of safety from you… Now you’re suffering.” A lavender smelling huff of wind blew through her hair, a moment of disbelief passed before Jason spoke up again, “I’m not suffering- well, not by your hands anyway.” When Natasha didn’t give a response, the large comforting presence continued speaking. “In fact, you gave me something wonderful Natasha,” Jason said with a weary grin as Natasha looked back up at him in confusion, “You gave me a choice.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asked, wondering where the hells Jason was going with this. “I chose to come with you to our picnic,” Jason said, whipping his face a tad with a long sleeve, “I’d never have left by myself, I wouldn’t have had the courage to and would have been miserable.” “But aren’t you miserable now!?” Natasha interjected, “If I gave you anything, it was a heart attack!” The collar of her laced blouse was wet with tears, at this point she covered her face in shame. Embarrassment of sobbing in front of him had begun to dog pile onto her mind as well. Why did she have to be so ignorant and get themselves into this horribly awkward situation? Her own mind kept coming up with more cruel things she felt guilty of before..

Natasha suddenly felt something soft press on the side of her head. 

Her eyes opened and the sight made her gasp, if she was seeing this right; A silky blue handkerchief folded gently on a finger tip that could have been mistaken as a small bedside table at first glance. Natasha looked up and saw his eyes pleading with her. “Uhm, “ Jason whimpered, “Thought you could use this..” Not wanting to decline this adorable man’s offer, she took the favor and dabbed her cheeks with a soft smile. “Thanks…” Natasha exasperated, “Look I’m sorry for-” “Natasha.” 

“...Yeah?” “I had an incredible time with you today, Thank you for everything you’ve been doing for me,” Jason said with genuine heart in his voice, “But please, don’t tear yourself down because of my need to process… uhm. This.” He emphasized by looking down at his chest which was about as wide as a king’s bed. Natasha’s silence gave Jason more of a chance to speak his peace. "It's not your duty to ensure I'm not miserable," Jason explained, a chuckle resonating through Natasha's boots. "Your company is more than enough..." The prince's heartfelt words left Natasha momentarily speechless. Even if she didn't believe she deserved mercy, an inexplicable sense of happiness enveloped her. The sweetness of the prince's heart must have expanded along with his body. She wondered why she felt so gosh darn happy. The noble patted down her tears one more time before reaching and wrapping her arms around the finger that gave her the handkerchief, giving it a tight squeeze. 

SNAP

“Owch!” Natasha pulled away from the sound of Jason’s squeal and was met with a slightly bigger hand and the prince rubbing the of his head. There laid an oak branch upon his shoulder that was broken at the stem. A brief, stunned silence passed between them.

"I, um, apologize for that—" Jason began.

“Oh no, I should be the one sorry here- I forgot about..." Natasha's voice trailed off as she too offered her apology.

A moment of pause hung in the air, their eyes locking. And then, they both chuckled. Natasha patted the tip of the finger that Jason had extended to her, a sense of camaraderie bridging the gap between them. After all, what was there to judge?

[ajwamiju]

Scene 7: Reviews

CW: None

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Thanks to the rehearsals you and Suna did, the rest of the filming went by smoothly with minimal fits of laughter, even for the scenes where Hiroki and Kumiko were implied to have been intimate not long before the scene is supposed to take place (You and Suna bursted into fits of laughter a grand total of 10 times! You would’ve had 50 if you weren’t comfortable with each other).

When you and Suna watched the clips you shot together of that particular scene, you were amazed by both your and Suna's abilities to look so genuinely in love with each other, lying in bed, and holding each other while you both acted out your characters having some pillow talk in a more heartwarming scene of the movie.

“To think our situation was basically the blind leading the blind.” Suna comments as the two of you sit in the bus rented by the studio to bring the crew back home to Tokyo. “The arguments Kumiko and Hiroki had were fucking intense, I think that series drained me more than my 6-year career.”

“They were.” You agree as you nod your head. “I absolutely cannot wait to get back to acting in horror movies. They're much easier than the series we did.”

Suna glances around for a bit before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Wanna shit on the series when it finally comes out?”

“You don't even have to ask!” You laugh as you lean back into your seat. “Thinking about it, Kumiko and Hiroki were fucking toxic man, don't think they’d actually work out if they were real people.”

“That's true. But I guess they did redeem themselves at the end there when they talked everything out.” Suna shrugs. “I don’t know how our reputation will hold up after this drama comes out, though.”

“I guess we just have to take the L and move on as if we’re not the main characters of the drama.” You sigh. “Even the best actors have a stain in their career.”

The drive from your last shooting location in Kyoto back to Tokyo takes a while, but you don’t feel just how long it is. During the 6-hour drive, you mostly either slept or talked shit with Suna and your crew, gossiping about the latest scandals of celebrities or their secret activities that would get them into scandals.

You and Suna exchange addresses before you both part ways, promising each other to keep in contact and hang out as you click well with him (you also know you both have intentions to star in the same horror movies together and that’s another reason why you’re keeping contact. But that’s honestly a given).

You would contact Suna frequently and you would even meet to hang out during your cooling period before you get another job, the highlight of these hangouts is when you two got to watch the finalised version of the drama you starred in. You both cleared your schedules for the whole day and spent watching all 12 episodes in one day, shit talking and cringing at yourselves as the story unfolds into Director Kurosu’s vision.

“This is never going to get good reviews from anyone.” Suna says as he skips the end credits of episode five to go to episode six.

“Yeah, the trailer’s out and literally the whole internet is confused as fuck.” You comment as the recap for episode five starts. “The first impression from our fans doesn't look good.”

“Let’s just look for a good horror movie to star in by next month. That should steer the public’s attention away from whatever this is.”

What you and Suna didn’t expect though is that the drama you both starred in ended up as a huge hit, to the point where it’s one of the most streamed dramas on all streaming platforms. Fans of both the romance and horror genres banded together to praise the drama as well as you and Suna for your 'phenomenal acting'.

“[Surname]-san and Suna-san’s acting were so good 😭😭😭 I’ve always known they were well-known in the horror genre, but I never knew they would also be this good at doing romance dramas!” -xxTsumufan123, 5 stars

“I’ve been a big fan of Suna-san’s works and have been DYING to see him in a movie with [Surname]-san since I also love her movies. I never thought I would see my dream come true in a romance drama but I’m deffo not disappointed 💯💯💯” -User89302, 5 stars

“Kumiko and Hiroki’s characters fit [Surname]-san and Suna-san so well! The plot of the drama isn’t that light-hearted so it also makes it feel so real and not forced!!! I can’t wait to see them in future instalments, doesn’t even matter if it’s horror, romance, or even comedy!” -Sunasveinythickthighs, 5 stars

“I’m so used to seeing Suna-san and [Surname]-san dying or killing, literally covered in blood. This is a breath of fresh air.” -Yamiki8294, 4.5 stars

You and Suna agree that you’re both dying at the outcome of this drama as well as what’s to come in the near future.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Taglist: @mirophobic @atrashsith @lilith412426 @rntrsuna @reignsaway @fallenisded @sunaemoby @buttercupp-baby @akari-fujikawa @omlxlaure @soonajeeme (Drop it here to be included in the taglist!)

[greatwyrmgold]

Hey I'm not trying to dogpile on you about your Pudding opinions (she's not for everyone), but there are some things I think aren't coming across well from her at this point to you & I'm hoping to get you to see why some people like her so much. Or at least to see how her writing is considered particularly well amongst side characters to what I think is a decent chunk of the fandom.

It's kind of hard to explain what I believe Oda is doing with Pudding without spoiling too much, but Pudding is not "just a plot device".

You might not have remembered, but Pudding's eye was established before we even met her in WCI. We first see her at the end of Fishman Island with her third eye out as Big Mom eats a dude up.

So Pudding's 3rd eye reveal didn't come out of nowhere nor was it shoehorned in. People who read/watched closely were able to piece together that was her so the notion of her hiding something was there from the start. Because of her color scheme I think it was even more obvious in the anime.

Also, I think Oda tried to connect WCI's "too good to be true" theme with his writing of Pudding which is why he opted to reveal her trauma & her "evil" persona when he did & why her shift is so sudden. It's supposed to seem out of nowhere & feel like literally breaking the rose tinted glass. Even people who were suspicious of her from the get go were really thrown off by it at the time it came out. I'm pretty sure If we knew Pudding was faking from the get go the reaction to her flip flopping wouldn't be seen so negatively nor would it seem like it was unearned.

Speaking of her trauma reveal.....It's really hard to go too into the 3rd eye thing without spoiling too much even for stuff beyond WCI, but I promise her getting terrorized for something so seemingly minuscule compared to the other weirdos of WCI is not just some last minute thing Oda gave her so she could have a sob story. Her 3rd eye isn't considered freaky because it's particularly ugly compared to other genetic variations, but because of the fact it's so rare. Again I don't want to spoil too much, but Pudding is basically an allegory for minorities. She's supposed to be one of the only people from the 3rd eye tribe. Very similar to how Robin was demonized for being the last of Ohara. The 3rd eye is also very plot relevant so no Pudding isn't just an obstacle for Sanji this arc nor is she just a love interest.

Lastly, Pudding is not only basically Sanji's dark mirror, but she personifies the themes of familial abuse WCI is all about. She is a look at what Sanji could've been had Reiju not helped him escape Germa. From her brief flashback you can see Pudding was most likely very sensitive & kind similar to Sanji at that age (the anime expands the flashback a bit more so you really feel how much the constant abuse hurt her. It was cruel.).

You should've already read the part where Brook overhears Big Mom asking Pudding if she "awakened" her 3rd eye yet, but Pudding is also a disappointment to her mother like Judge was to Sanji. Big Mom specifically had a 3rd eye child to be a tool to help her achieve her goal of attaining power similar to how Sanji was supposed to be a living weapon for Judge . They're both failed eugenics babies. Except she didn't get to leave her abusive family & her way of surviving was becoming whatever they needed of her & to act cruel to prevent people from attacking her anymore. It's heavily implied that Pudding most likely messed with the memories of the townsfolk so they would forget her 3rd eye even existed & if they were to find out all the adoration she's built up over the years would end in a snap because no one actually knows who Pudding is (maybe not even herself).

So Sanji calling her beautiful & making her weep might seem stupid, but that single act of kindness made Pudding face the reality that she was going to murder someone who was genuinely kind (because her mother had already convinced her he was just as cruel as everyone else in her life & wouldn't ever accept her for who she was) & didn't deserve it & she didn't actually want to do it. She was just trying to stay on her mother's good side to prevent anything bad happening to her. She never actually had the intense desire to murder him. Her cruel words weren't even really about him. Sanji was just who she decided to project all her hurt on because he needed to die anyways so why not take it out on the weirdo perv?

At the end of the day the entire Charlotte Family are just a bunch of abused kids who react to their environment differently & their "loyalty" to their mother doesn't really mean much at all to most. It can & does disappear the second they find love & acceptance outside of her. Pudding is not the first. We saw Praline who married Aladin gleefully tell her new husband she will happily betray her mother if he does too. Lola literally left & never looked back. Chiffon's allegiance is to her husband & the family she created.

Noticeably the only ones who seem to actually drink the Big Mom Kool aid are the strongest & most "useful" of the crew which Pudding kind of worked her way into those ranks, but as you can see by how empathetic they were to her "failure" at the altar her position as "favorite" was precarious at best. She lives in a constant state of one wrong move away from going back to being treated like shit.

So I don't really understand when anyone tries to say it makes no sense for her "loyalty" to her mother to get shaken up "just because a guy called her pretty" it's much more than that. Sanji calling her pretty didn't just stroke her ego it literally validated her right to be loved & accepted for the things she cannot nor shouldn't change about herself. Very similar to how Luffy constantly validates his crewmates btw.

You probably haven't seen much of him yet but she also has a lot of Parallels with her older brother Katakuri. You'll see more of him later in the arc, but he's also a great example of how abused children with visibly differences deal with the world around them & shape the way they carry themselves. Actually it's pretty crazy how similar they are tbh.

I don't expect everyone to love Pudding. I know she's not appealing to most, but I do think it's not fair to boil her down to just some 2dimensial sexist caricature because she really isn't. She's one of the best handled shonen love interests I've seen in a long time & an exemplary example of the themes of One Piece imo. Like I said in the beginning it's hard to go too into why people believe she's an amazingly written character, but what Oda does with her is pretty cool imo.

Also the rest of her journey this arc is just really fucking entertaining. Definitely one of the stand out characters.

You might not have remembered, but Pudding's eye was established before we even met her in WCI.

I don't think I ever said that her third eye itself came out of nowhere. I said her trauma around it did, which is separate from the eye's existence.

Also, I think Oda tried to connect WCI's "too good to be true" theme with his writing of Pudding which is why he opted to reveal her trauma & her "evil" persona when he did & why her shift is so sudden. It's supposed to seem out of nowhere & feel like literally breaking the rose tinted glass. ... I'm pretty sure If we knew Pudding was faking from the get go the reaction to her flip flopping wouldn't be seen so negatively nor would it seem like it was unearned.

So, first off, that's two separate plot twists. A plot twist that reveals a new peril and a plot twist that solves a known peril are very different things. One complicates or extends the story, the other simplifies or reduces it.

Second: You are right that revealing Pudding's intentions to the audience before Sanji found out about them would change the audience's reaction to that knowledge. It would change "nothing, then shock" to "suspense, then catharsis". It's like Alfred Hitchcock's bomb analogy. If we know a bomb is gonna go off in five minutes, we spend those five minutes in suspense, waiting in fear fro the other shoe to drop. If we don't know anything, all we get is a brief moment of shock when Pudding reveals that her loyalty to Big Mom can be broken with a couple nice words.

Third, you're right that if Oda had established Pudding better, her heel-face turn wouldn't feel unearned. But he didn't actually do that. I'm not giving Oda credit for stuff that he didn't write.

It's really hard to go too into the 3rd eye thing without spoiling too much even for stuff beyond WCI, but I promise her getting terrorized for something so seemingly minuscule compared to the other weirdos of WCI is not just some last minute thing Oda gave her so she could have a sob story. Her 3rd eye isn't considered freaky because it's particularly ugly compared to other genetic variations, but because of the fact it's so rare.

Franky's Popeye forearms are even rarer, and he doesn't have a complex around them. Same deal with Usopp's nose and Django's fungus goatee and that CP9 guy with a zipper mouth and sphere body. One Piece is not the kind of place where you can assume freaks feel freakish.

Also, I'm not giving Oda credit for stuff that he didn't write before it was important. A deus ex machina is still a deus ex machina if you explain it a hundred chapters later; it's defined not by whether the author understands why it happened, but whether the audience understands why it happened.

They're both failed eugenics babies.

I do like that parallel between Sanji and Pudding, but again, Pudding doesn't receive enough development to make it really work for me. Sanji got whole chapters of flashback detailing his childhood abuse at the hands of Papa Vinsmoke; Pudding got a couple panels of Mama asking whether she'd awakened her third-eye sight and a couple panels (mid-breakdown) speedrunning exposition for why she has a complex around that third eye.

If we pretend that One Piece is a historical document with some truth behind it, we can infer that Pudding's childhood was as bad as Sanji's. But it isn't, so inferring things that the story never tells us doesn't add much. "Pudding and Sanji bond over their similar childhoods" is a cool premise for a fanfic, but it's not supported by the actual text.

So Sanji calling her beautiful & making her weep might seem stupid, but that single act of kindness made Pudding face reality.

Okay, so there are two problems here. The first is that Pudding's abuse isn't the kind of thing one kind act should be able to reverse, the second is that calling her beautiful is a really weaksauce act of kindness.

The second point is pretty obvious. It's a compliment, and a shallow compliment at that, from a man she was looking forward to murdering just thirty seconds prior. I want to say that it makes Pudding look comically vain, but in reality it makes Pudding look like a character whose actions are dictated by an author. (Obviously all One Piece characters are that, but Oda usually hides it better.)

The first...I kinda want to get into the psychology of abuse and cults of personality, how abusers and cult leaders get people to stay even when that's obviously against their best interest. But I've already spent way more time on Charlotte Pudding Discourse than I want to, so I'll just note that if Big Mom's serious negativity didn't push her out, Sanji can't pull her out with mild positivity.

She never actually had the intense desire to murder him.

The text does not remotely support this. Pudding displays an intense desire to murder Sanji, on several occasions, in as many words, sometimes for no clearly-stated reason but sometimes because of obvious character flaws that would make most women want to murder him at least a little.

Incidentally, that's from one chapter before the wedding. That's the second chapter I checked, after the chapter where Pudding cried because Sanji complimented her eye.

You can say that Pudding doesn't actually want to kill Sanji, but you'd be arguing against both Pudding's own thoughts and the visual language used to communicate them. (You see those expressions Pudding is making in the shaded panels? Pudding isn't actually making them. They're conveying the tone of Pudding's thoughts in a medium without voice actors to provide an audible tone.)

I don't think it's impossible that Pudding would have thoughts like these while on a deeper level wanting to spare Sanji, but I also don't think that deeper level is supported by the text. It doesn't contradict anything Oda wrote, but it's also not part of what Oda wrote.

So I don't really understand when anyone tries to say it makes no sense for her "loyalty" to her mother to get shaken up "just because a guy called her pretty" it's much more than that. Sanji calling her pretty didn't just stroke her ego it literally validated her right to be loved & accepted for the things she cannot nor shouldn't change about herself. Very similar to how Luffy constantly validates his crewmates btw.

In theory, all of that is true. On paper—the actual black-and-white pages of One Piece, whether on faded issues of Shonen Jump or the crisp precision of digital displays—it isn't there.

Luffy doesn't convince Nami to turn on Arlong with one panel of grabbing the knife she's stabbing her shoulder with. Nami's time with Arlong gets two whole chapters, not a few panels flashing back to Arlong's treatment of Coco Village and Nami after she breaks down and asks for help. This moment gets all the time it needs—the time to establish why Nami is working for Arlong despite everything he does, the time to establish why Nami feels like she must carry this burden on her own, why Luffy finally convinces her to let him help.

Robin's "I want to live!" gets even more. Her childhood abuse isn't alluded to with a few red-flag comments and her maternal figure's general vibes; we get two-thirds of a volume devoted to her backstory, plus her time under Crocodile. Convincing Robin that she is loved and deserves that love takes half of the Enies Lobby arc. And, I cannot stress this enough, half of the setup did not take place after the moment it was setting up. The payoff comes after the setup.

Now, I don't expect Pudding's arc to get that much time. Sanji convincing Pudding that she can be loved isn't as important as Luffy's part in the Straw Hats' character arcs; Luffy is a more important character than Sanji and Pudding is way less important than any of the Straw hats. But it needed more time than it got.

We can logically piece together plausible explanations for how Sanji could convince Pudding to not kill him. But character arcs need to work emotionally, not just logically, because that emotion is what makes the audience care about the characters. Also, we either needed a better explanation of why Pudding would care about Sanji complimenting her third eye before he does that. I cannot overemphasize how much worse Pudding's arc is for having those flashbacks come so late.

[pure-garbage]

Tale Of The Scar... An Unpleasant Realization

Lana liked it when neither she nor Zoro drew the night watch. She always welcomed his warmth in whatever corner of the cabin she eeked out after the straw hats' daily scramble for the softest spots. Even so, something bothered her tonight in spite of her contentment.

Her hand crept under the hem of Zoro's shirt while he sleepily twirled a lock of her hair around and around.

'What a terrible wound,' she thought, tracing a troubled line from his right waist all the way up to his left shoulder. Zoro watched her turbulent expression for a long time while she stroked the scar over and over.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he requested softly. All around them, their crewmates snored and muttered in their sleep.

"Just... you're such a skilled swordsman," Lana sighed, continuing the motion of her fingertips over his chest lightly. "This scar... it must be really old. Did you get it before you started training?"

"No. It's only been a year since I got this one."

Lana stopped her tracing, resting her open palm over his heart. Its strong, steady beats usually consoled her, but she only frowned more deeply.

"Who were you fighting? How were they good enough to cut you so badly?" she wondered.

"His name is Hawk-Eye Mihawk. I challenged him because he's the world's greatest swordsman."

"And he cut you down."

"He let me live and told me to seek him out again someday. And I will. One day when I'm strong enough I'll defeat him and claim my place as the best in the world."

Suddenly, Lana realized that one day, that would be the way she lost Zoro.

Sadness washed over her in a devastating wave. She knew better than to think he could be swayed from his course. Zoro's determination to achieve his goal was utterly resolute, his stubbornness and drive to keep his word unbreakable. The weight of the promises he carried with him were matched only by the fires of his own ambition.

'Even if he can defeat this Hawk-Eye... he probably could, to be fair. But then he'll take his place. He'll inherit the mantle of the world's greatest sword master and when that happens, he'll face an endless sea of challengers. I'm sure he'll love it, I'm sure that's what he wants and he knows what's waiting for him when he finally achieves his dream. Even so... the only way this dream of his ends is... with his death.'

Lana's despair was evident on her face.

"It's fine," Zoro comforted her, oblivious to her internal catastrophizing. "It's healed now. It only hurts if I fall on something wrong... oh, and sometimes when it storms hard enough."

'I guess every relationship has a timer on it from the very beginning,' Lana mused darkly. 'We're not special, but... how am I supposed to feel, having such an unavoidable good-bye always looming over me? What logic is there that can make this burden easier to bear?'

When her expression didn't lighten, Zoro placed a kiss to her forehead. He moved to her cheek, but she pulled away from him before his lips could meet hers. She rolled, turning her back to him. He followed, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

"Laaanaaaa," he sang, voice muffled by her thick locks. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Nothing."

"Don't lie. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but don't lie. 'Kay?"

"Hmph."

"Lana..."

Zoro's words became a whine. He nuzzled her neck, clutching her tighter as her abrupt, inexplicable distress started to genuinely bother him. "Say something."

"I'm going to sleep."

"You're upset though."

"Yeah, upset and sleepy. Good night."

Zoro grumbled and held her even tighter.

"Fine. But don't blame me when you wake up with bird feet."

The comment was so bizarre that for a minute, Lana forgot to be depressed.

"When I... what?!"

"Come on, everyone knows that if you go to sleep upset, you wake up the next morning with bird feet," Zoro replied, tone implying that this should have been obvious.

"You mean like... pigeon toes?"

"No, that's when your heels point out sideways. If you go to sleep upset, Nicorigull, king of the doves, will feel sorry for you. So he'll come in the night and make a trade to take away your worries. But since he's a good, law-abiding king, he won't take something without leaving fair payment. So he leaves behind his feet and the person he pities will have to wear them for the rest of their life."

"Uh... Zoro, what kind of messed up fairytale is that anyway?!" Lana demanded, swiveling her head to fix him with a tart stare of consternation.

"It's a classic where I'm from," Zoro chuckled, unfazed by her sternness.

Lana gave in with a sigh. She couldn't resist the charm of his smile.

"I don't want to tell you why I'm upset," she explained, "... because I know you. I know the way you think. And I know you won't have any respect for my reasoning and we'll only end up fighting about it. I'll get over it in my own time... and you can't do anything to help, so just let it go and let me get some rest. Please?"

"Huh. Well, okay," he shrugged, conceding easily. "Fair enough."

He yawned and let his eyes slide shut. A second later he opened one again.

"But I can still hold you though, right?" he checked.

Lana rolled back over, burying her face in his chest.

"Please do."

He did, wrapping both arms firmly around her before he passed out.

Lana didn't sleep immediately despite what she'd said. She stayed awake, listening to Zoro's heartbeat and slow, even breaths. He talked in his sleep, demanding gruffly that Luffy 'get out of the water!'

"I'm drowning, Zoro! Save me!" Luffy responded sluggishly from a hammock across the room. Lana stifled a giggle as the exchange went on.

'All I can do is enjoy the time we do have,' she concluded with grudging resignation. 'However long it is. I can't let myself worry about what's to come. Especially the things I have no control over, like Zoro's determination to get himself killed.'

Zoro's unconscious dialogue was reduced to grumbling mumbles as Luffy's ear-splitting snores overtook the room.

"Zoro... I love you," she told him softly. "Okay?"

"Okay, Lana," he mumbled back. "Love you too."

Lana's heart skipped a few beats and her eyes shot open wide. Zoro had never told her that before. A bittersweet smile spread over her face as she considered the irony of the sentiment being realized at a time like this.

'Good to know anyway,' she thought, tickled in spite of her persistent melancholy. 'I wonder if he would ever say it while awake.'

That was a question for another day. Lana finally passed out, her soft snores joining the symphony formed by those of her crewmates.

___________________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[shivunin]

From the Depths

(for the prompt "A kiss after receiving good news" from @zenstrike---thanks again!!)

Arianwen could not imagine a city worse than Orzammar. 

It wasn’t just the ugliness of the politics; it wasn’t just the deprivation of fresh air and sunlight. It wasn’t the annoyance of the tasks she’d been set to, or even her leg wound. It was all of these at once, and more. 

For example, even if she tried her hardest she could not make a throwing blade stick in anything when all the furniture was made of stone…and there was little else to occupy her time at the moment, when she’d had no visitors all day. Even the healer wouldn’t return until the results of the most recent examination. 

“Worst city in Thedas,” she muttered to herself, lying on her back in the stone bed. A stone bed—as if sleeping on stone was some kind of luxury. At least in the alienage she’d had an actual mattress.

She hated Orzammar. 

Her knife flipped into the air, the edge of the blade shining in the lamplight, and she caught it easily when it fell again. She’d been very firmly warned not to climb out of bed after she’d fallen two days ago, and Alistair had been so genuinely frustrated that she’d begrudgingly agreed to stay put. 

Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. 

They could have at least brought in a practice dummy. That was the minimum—she’d made the idiot into a king, hadn’t she? Surely he could manage this one thing. She’d defeated a legend, a hostile wasteland full of traps designed to kill her, and she’d certainly paid for it. Was one stupid target so hard?

Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. 

Alright, well, obviously there would be a problem with retrieving the knives even if they did bring a target in here. But someone could have stayed with her and brought them back. Really, it was odd that none of them had. Not one. She was just…lying here by herself. 

Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. 

So, fine, it wasn’t just that she’d driven them all off with her ill temper. It was that one of them specifically hadn’t stuck around. She was grown enough to admit that much to herself, if not aloud. 

Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. 

But why should it bother her? They’d made no promises to each other, had they? She’d never told Zevran she wanted more than company, and he’d never implied otherwise. In fact, he’d more or less let her define what they were to each other thus far, hadn’t he? Like he didn’t want to admit anything either way—or maybe he just didn’t care enough to choose.

Flip. Catch. 

When Arianwen caught her blade next, she let it rest against her chest instead of throwing it again. The handle was cool from the air—it was always just a little too cool for comfort here, but never actually cold. All the stone held on to the chill, she supposed. The choking heat at the Anvil had almost been a boon after weeks of the creeping chill. Now, Wen held tight to her knife until the handle warmed against her skin, as a child cuddles a stuffed toy. 

After the fever…she could have sworn she remembered Zevran there. She certainly remembered a lovely pair of eyes, a brown nearing gold, holding hers to the light when she would have fallen away. Even in her haze, she’d known that had to mean something. But…

They’d let her up long enough to end the fighting in the Assembly. Directly after, she’d been dragged back to this room to languish on her sickbed until the infection had been purged entirely. So, here she was a week later: still in bed while the Blight raged on the surface. 

Alone. 

He…hadn’t chosen to stick around.

As she thought this, the door on the far wall swung open. Wen sat up, spinning the blade into a throwing position just in case. There was no need; she recognized the cadence of the footsteps even before her lover came into view. 

“Oh,” she said, and flopped back onto the bed, “Hello.”

“Good evening, my dear Warden,” Zevran said, and sat on the bed beside her, “I have the most intriguing news for you.”

“Oh?” she said, and tossed her throwing knife into the air again, “Is Bhelen going to bring me a practice target finally? Or have they discovered a chef who can actually cook?”

“Ah, even better,” Zevran said, smiling down at her in a way that made her stomach flip, “We are leaving within the hour. You have been cleared to leave.”

“What?” Wen said, snatching her throwing blade from the air and sitting up in a rush, “This isn’t some joke, is it?” 

“Mi vida, would I joke with you about something so dire?” Zevran said, setting a hand on his chest in false offense, “No, it is not a jo—”

She was kissing him before she decided to do it—awkwardly, with their noses pressed against each other and his teeth far too involved in the matter. Arianwen didn’t care—to leave this dreadful place; perhaps to never return! She couldn’t imagine better news in the world right now, unless he’d also come to tell her that Loghain had decided to do them all a favor and drop dead somewhere. 

Perhaps that—a messy kiss, too hard and misplaced—might have been all of it if she’d pulled away right then. But Zevran’s hand caught the back of her neck before Arianwen could swing her legs over the side of the bed. 

Something…changed then, though she couldn’t quite put words to it until later. They hadn’t kissed since she’d gone into the Deep Roads weeks before; between visits from the healer and everything else, they hadn’t been alone together since she’d returned. 

Over the past months, they’d kissed plenty. Quick ones, checking on each other after battle; long, languorous ones in his tent or hers, as a prelude to lovemaking; laughing ones, when she kissed him to stop his joking, and even angry ones when one or the other of them had taken an unnecessary risk in combat (why he insisted on guarding her was beyond Arianwen; not that her irritation ever dissuaded him). 

Zevran had never kissed her like this—like he was finding her and losing her all at once. It was a kiss that felt like a farewell; it was a kiss that felt like finding something precious and small and cradling it in one’s hands. No; he’d never, ever kissed her quite like this. Arianwen was certain that she would have remembered it if he had. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as he let go, and caught his hand in hers when he would have stood, “What’s happened?”

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong, my dear Warden” Zevran said with an arched brow, but he turned away too quickly for her to read his expression, “Come—I had thought you would not wish to stay in this room a moment longer. You certainly said so enough times, yes?”

Wen peered at his back as he began to shove her things back into her pack. 

“But perhaps I was mistaken,” he added after a moment, glancing at her over his shoulder, “I could always tell the others you wish to stay if—”

“No!” Wen said at once, and swung her legs off the bed. Her wounded leg gave an uncomfortable twinge when she put weight on it, but she ignored that. Let it hurt all it wanted to, so long as it hurt under the sky. 

“No,” she said again, “I’m well. I’m ready. Let me get my armor and we can go.”

Packing and readying herself to leave was busy. Collecting her assurances from the king and making the appropriate goodbyes was time consuming, too, and almost tiring enough for Arianwen to ask for more rest. 

None of it was quite busy enough to make her forget the way Zevran had tasted on her lips. 

Like…tenderness. 

Tenderness and desperation.

But why?

[youngpettyqueen]

basically rewriting my own tags here but. AU where The Joker is Wild is a more serious character exploration of BJ set in season 4

this got quite away from me and also long so. under the cut to save ur dashes

the point of the episode here would be to establish BJ more as his own character early on, by directly dealing with the idea of him being jealous of Trapper, and resentful of being compared to him. it also makes for an isolated sort of feel with him- he hasn't built these connections with the rest of the cast yet, and this is a cast who knew Trapper and so far dont really know him. by taking this more seriously it allows for some exploration of BJ's character, some room for him to grow, an opportunity for him and Hawkeye to strengthen their bond, and even some room to drop hints for the anger the bubbles underneath the surface for him

it starts off fairly similarly- BJ pranking Hawkeye and Hawkeye not being particularly impressed, leading to him launching into reminiscing about the "golden days" of him and Trapper's schemes. its implied here that this is something Hawkeye does often; comparing BJ to Trapper, often unfavourably, often bringing up how Trapper did things better and how he misses that. Hawkeye doesnt mean any harm here, he's just trying to reminisce and handling his best friend's departure as best he can, but this understandably still gets under BJ's skin. BJ, clearly unhappy, promises to show Hawkeye he's just as good as Trapper was, maybe even better. Hawkeye, not seeing that BJ is legitimately upset here, doesnt take it too seriously and just wishes him luck

no bet element. nobody else is in on it. BJ is still new to the 4077 and hasn't quite found his footing yet, further cementing his insecurities related to where he stands with everyone. he starts off small, simple, harmless. gag cigars, swapping the salt and the sugar and the like. Hawkeye continues to be unimpressed, goading BJ on, not realizing BJ is genuinely getting more and more upset and therefore not taking him seriously. until finally BJ starts to get outright mean, lashing out more obviously, and Hawkeye realizes something might actually be wrong. still, he doesnt think much of it- he doesnt know BJ, he doesnt know him angry, and he decides to wait until he's cooled down to talk to him about it and see what's up

well, that doesnt happen. Potter sits BJ down in his office at one point and tells him he needs to knock off the childish tantrum and speak up if something's upsetting him. he points out BJ's been lashing out at everyone, acting uncharacteristically mean, and watching Hawkeye be bombarded with a bunch of pranks is exhausting. he warns BJ to stop now before he goes too far. BJ agrees, but then typical sort of TV show dialogue moment- leaves the office and says to himself "after I get him with this one"

one last prank and then he's done. its all harmless, after all, he'll just get this last one out of his system and then this all becomes a funny memory. except that's not what happens. something goes wrong. it was supposed to be harmless, of course it was supposed to be harmless, but something goes wrong and Hawkeye ends up hurt. he was told to stop, he didnt listen, and now his best friend is hurt and its all his fault. nobody will even let him help, and he cant even blame them

once things settle, thats when they lay into him. Potter is the most livid anyone's ever seen him, nearly rips his damn head off because he fucking told him so. Margaret is furious, demanding what the hell's wrong with him, and Mulcahy's right beside her. even Klinger and Radar look ready to kill, Klinger holding Radar by the shoulders while Radar demands how anyone could do something like that to someone like Hawkeye. and BJ's feeling so horrible, so guilty, so angry at himself, it all just rushes out of him. he's so sick of being compared to Trapper, so sick of everyone treating him like he's just Trapper's replacement, all he wanted was to show them that he isn't just a sub-par replacement. he just wanted to be respected as his own person, he just wanted the comparisons to stop, he just wanted to stop being stuck in the shadow of someone he never even met. at this point BJ storms off before they can say anything else, goes to the only place he can go; the Swamp

that doesnt make it right, of course. but that forces some reflection. it makes a bit more sense, now. and the others can reflect on that- its implied they've been doing it, too. comparing BJ to Trapper. they comment on it a bit- Margaret saying she sometimes does it without thinking in OR, Klinger agreeing that he's brought it up when BJ reacts to one of his outfits differently than Trapper did, etc. Potter understands BJ's anger, having struggled with slotting in himself, especially seeing as he's replacing a dead man. everyone's anger softens a bit

meanwhile, BJ finds Frank in the Swamp, the only one that didnt tear him a new one. Frank, for his part, is completely unbothered. says he's on BJ's side, actually. says Hawkeye needed to be humbled. BJ snaps back that that wasn't the point, and Frank asks him what the point of it all was, then. and BJ starts to explain like he did to the others, but it starts to fall apart. and he admits that maybe it became about just taking his anger out on Hawkeye, because he didnt want to talk about it, didnt want to admit how much it hurt. he knows Hawkeye misses Trapper, and he's not mad at him for that, he just wishes Hawkeye would see him for him, see him for a real friend, not just a cookie cutter replacement. Frank makes a remark about how he definitely did their friendship no favours by putting him in the infirmary. BJ, wallowing in his guilt, agrees and makes his exit. one of those instances where frank is unintentionally and obliviously kinda deep?

bit of a time jump. its been a few days. Hawkeye's fine, recovering without a problem- it wasn't anything serious. BJ hasn't gone by, though. things are tense between him and the others, and he feels way too guilty to see Hawkeye. finally, he's eating his lunch in the Swamp, really just avoiding everyone, when Hawkeye comes in with his own tray. he parks himself right beside BJ and asks if he plans on talking to him about it, or just avoiding him forever. BJ tries to say there's nothing to talk about, but Hawkeye doesnt let him off the hook

so, they have a heart to heart. BJ opens up, admits how he hates how much he's compared to Trapper, admits he feels this ridiculous jealousy towards him. explains that he just wants Hawkeye to see him as his own person, as a friend, but he feels like every time Hawkeye looks at him he's just seeing Trapper in his place. he says he's done a lousy job at being the friend he wants to be seen as, and that he's been fucking stupid, and apologizes

Hawkeye, for his part, agrees that BJ's acted stupid. but he goes on to say that he himself was acting stupid, because he didnt see how much he was hurting BJ by constantly comparing him to Trapper. he admits he's struggling with Trapper's departure, and that he misses him a lot, but he also knows thats no excuse for the comparisons. he apologizes for making BJ feel like he was nothing more than Trapper's replacement, and tells him in no uncertain terms that he does like him a lot for who he really is, and values him as a friend. he promises to stop comparing BJ to Trapper, so long as BJ promises to stop with the pranks- at least, the pranks on him. BJ agrees, and they shake on it, both of them smiling now

an undetermined amount of time later, Frank is the victim of a devastating prank by the both of them. while he rages on, Hawkeye and BJ fall into each other laughing hysterically. their friendship has come out of this stronger than ever, and we end on an optimistic note