#or maybe i can post it as a sort of prologue chapter?

[tathrin]

I’ve been working on that LotR Zombie AU that I talked about a while ago, and it’s been fun! I’m actually several chapters in, and still enjoying it mightily, so I’ll hopefully start actually posting it soon but.

I keep going back-and-forth on whether or not I want to include this chapter or not. It’s pure exposition scene-setting, and while I enjoyed writing it and it was very helpful initially when I was figuring out the background for it all, it’s mostly exposition that gets covered better in other places now.

And I just can’t find a good place to insert it. I keep moving it around in between other chapters, and every time I’m like “yes, there, it fits there”...until I change my mind and move it again. So I think it might be time to just admit that it doesn’t fit anywhere, and cut it completely.

But before I do that, I figure I might as well share it with all of you:

It started, at least in Mirkwood, when the king came home. He was dead, of course; had been dead for three thousand years at that point. The world had changed so much in the years since his death that he would have barely recognized it—had he been conscious enough to see the lands he walked through. But he wasn't; he was dead.

He was Dead, and the Dead followed after.

Oropher, and Gilthawen, and Rhosslas, and Teithion, and Hebinastor, and all the others who had died with their king in the land of Mordor where the shadows lie. It started when the dead came home.

Their bodies should have rotted away to nothing long ago, nothing but the ghosts of dead faces staring up unseeing forever out of the fetid waters. They should have; but the Necromancer who had ruled that dark land, who had clawed his way out of his own grave more than once before, had left a mark on Mordor too deep to be erased even by his own destruction.

He had been a craftsman, after all, that maia once called Sauron and once called Mairon and even, once, named Annatar. He had been a craftsman, and his favorite medium was souls.

Perhaps someone should have worried more about those bodies in the Dead Marshes outside the land of Mordor. Perhaps someone should have worried sooner about the way their faces did not fade from the foul waters, even when their flesh was centuries gone.

Perhaps someone should have remembered that “Necromancer” had been one of the names by which he had been known, too. Perhaps someone should have remembered why.

The bodies in the Dead Marshes had drained to dust and rot centuries ago, leaving nothing but dead echoes rippling in the water. But that water lay outside a Necromancer's lair, in lands that had been long poisoned by his arts. Dead and gone they were, those Men and Dwarves and Elves and Orcs who had died fighting there so long ago; dead and gone and rotting…

But even dead, the echoes of their souls endured. Trapped, corrupted, their spirits rotting from within, they endured. And, eventually, they Rose.

The Risen Dead were no army to be commanded by the Wraiths who held dominion over the ruin of Mordor now. Their unliving corpses were driven only by hunger for life, for flesh.

Many of the Dead eventually followed the smell and sound and flickering lights of a great city to Minas Tirith, and there they fell on the white walls of Gondor's great capital first in a trickle and then as a tide. By the time the city knew to shut its gates, death was already inside the walls. An army of the dead stands there now—frothing and snapping, moaning with mindless hunger—outside the walls they cannot breach, while the few who slipped inside before the gates were shut lurch and spread through the winding tiers of the city so that Minas Tirith rots from within.

Others scattered, wandering off in whatever direction their lifeless eyes turned to in pursuit of any whisper of life that caught their senseless attention enough to draw them onwards. The Dead are everywhere now, found far beyond the reach of the rotting legs of those first corpses, for their infection spreads even faster than they do: it passes silently through air and water, undetected, not strong enough to kill…but inescapable, too. Now those dead who die in Middle-earth by other means Rise as well, and they spread the infection ever onwards in a growing wave of corpses and moans.

But Oropher…Oropher came back to Mirkwood.

Some said it was Dol Guldur looming like a lodestone, drawing the Dead. Others said it was because even in death, the forest still called her old king home.

Whatever the reason, he came, and Death followed with him.

Oropher came home, and the Rising began.

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc: 4.5k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, male chauvinism, misogyny (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

An: Sorry for any grammar mistakes, it's late and i wanted to post.😭

Chapter 6: In your grasp

The day had already started off rather eclectic at the castle, with the servants working around the clock to finish the preparations for the ball that was to take place later.

Despite this, the day wasn't too busy for you, as the attention wasn't focused on you because of the ball. So you could say that everything was fine so far.

Since there was also an exquisite visitor at the castle, a close friend of the king. And someone who also had unshakeable power, worthy of a special reception.

Majesty Graham, also known as the imposing king of the United States, currently a nation with an enviable progression.

The visit had actually come as a surprise, as no one in the castle had expected the sudden appearance. The excuse was that important matters had to be sorted out with King Leonardo, matters that no one knew for sure what they were about, but they did seem to be important.

Despite the discretion that was maintained so that both Kings could talk, the walls had ears, literally. It wasn't hard to find some of the maidens sneaking into the corridors so that they could overhear the conversation.

After all, nothing about royalty could be kept secret for long, as old-fashioned as that may sound. That's the price you pay for being in the royal spotlight all the time.

And since the day was already too quiet for you, what could be better than listening to some of the maids' gossip? Surely you could understand why Majesty Graham was here in the first place.

So you did, taking slow, silent steps through the corridors, listening to the buzz coming from a more secluded corner, and then you saw the maids whispering among themselves, some smiling, others a little nervous, and some others seemed to be daydreaming. What could it be?

"God! Imagine what will happen to that man!" One of the servant girls exclaimed, looking at the others.

One of the others nodded before whispering, "Oh, what a silly idea! How can a man think of getting involved with a princess!"

So that's what it was about. You felt your heart shudder, so Ashley's father had found out about the hidden affair she was having. He just didn't know, who the man was, who subjected his daughter to this shamelessness. Oh, if he only knew.

"I heard! I heard Majesty Graham saying that he would even declare war if he found the culprit! He would be able to declare war on any kingdom!" One of the girls spoke up, putting her hand to her lips to show her exasperation at the situation.

All the others gasped, shaking their heads in denial. The ladies were just as exasperated as you were, and you couldn't help the look of confusion that appeared on your face.

How could this have happened? Leon wouldn't be so careless as to leave something out in the open like that, it wasn't something he would do. After all, it had been going on for years, so how could it have reached the majesty's ears?

You knew that King Leonardo would do his best to hide any clues that led to his son, he had the money and influence to do so. But how long would this situation remain under wraps? Perhaps this was the push to end the situation once and for all, and you were going to do everything possible to make it happen.

It might have been petty, but you couldn't let anything stand in the way of your marriage. That's what good brides did, they looked after their families and their husbands, so you were only doing the right thing.

If Ashley's father was still at the castle talking to King Leonard, then you could make a small appearance at this gathering. You even had the perfect idea of how to sneak into the room where the two men were talking, and it would also be the perfect cue to get Leon to put an end to this once and for all, or at least to get some respect from him.

But there was still something on your mind, would it be worth it? Would that be enough for Leon to see you as a woman? Or rather, as his wife?

You didn't know if it was right or wrong, but given the prince's latest attitudes lately, you couldn't let him keep doing whatever he wanted to you.

That kiss? It was able to send your emotions soaring, even though you wanted to deny it with all your soul, you couldn't even say that it had no effect on you.

Several times you found yourself wondering what it would be like if it were real, if it would feel like to have his lips on yours, even once, but you wanted it to be genuine. That it was something from inside his soul, that he felt something.

But you were already getting used to the idea that it was a silly dream, or maybe you'd have to sacrifice even more for this man, who knows, maybe with some little way out you could turn this situation in your favor?

And when several ideas started popping into your head, you had the brilliant idea of making this extramarital affair you had with Leon open, and you already knew perfectly well what the king's reaction would be.

The first thing that came to mind was the letter that Ashley had given Leon with the flowers, and you still had possession of that little letter. So why not give it to the king? Surely you could have imagined King Leon's furious reaction to knowing that his son was so indiscreet about this affair.

As you walked to your room, you saw a vase of flowers that had been placed in the hallway, they looked fresh, just so you could make your little scene even more intriguing. But of course you would only be the poor damsel in distress, the poor wife who was being betrayed.

Once you'd entered your chambers, you then went in search of the letter you'd kept so carefully. The same letter that made your blood boil just remembering the whole occasion. And you weren't just referring to the flowers you'd received, but to the situation as a whole.

And since Leon was basically inhibiting Chris's presence around you, it was only right to give him a taste of his own poison. You hid the letter in your hands, carrying the small, delicate vase of flowers in your hand, straight to the king's chambers. When you arrived at the entrance door, you straightened your posture and straightened your dress, making yourself perfectly presentable to the king.

It was then that you knocked twice on the door, only to be greeted with a 'come in' a few minutes later.

You did just that, with calm, elegant steps you made your way into the king's chamber. And there stood Majesty Graham, together with King Leonardo. You bowed politely to them both, looking at King Leonard as you held the flowers.

"Forgive the intrusion and indelicacy, Your Majesty. However, these flowers have arrived for the prince." You say, and your sentence was all it took for both men to raise their ears to hear what you had to say.

And of course you wouldn't come to talk to the most important man in the kingdom if you didn't have a reason to, and he was willing to listen to what you needed to say.

"There must have been some mistake." Leonardo said, getting up from his chair and walking over to you to inspect the flowers.

"No, Your Majesty. It even came with this little letter." You say as you hand over the piece of paper, and this makes Graham look at you both.

There was something in his gaze, and it wasn't from God. The man was already mounting his suspicions.

Leonardo then read the much-talked-about letter, his eyes widening and narrowing with every sentence, his face so red that you didn't know if he would be all right after finishing the letter. At the same moment, he looked at you, at Graham, who was already suspicious.

"I didn't understand the urgency, but the maids were in a hurry to give it to the prince." You said, in a tone that gave the perfect impression that you didn't know what it was really about.

And then you decided to add, "Oh, and there was also a certain discreetness."

That was the last straw for King Leonard to let out an audible sigh to control his nerves, and you felt the heavy gaze of Majesty Graham behind you. It was almost a silent conversation.

"Thank you, I'll give it to Leon as soon as he arrives." Leonardo says, not leaving you much room to say anything else.

You then understand that it's your time to leave, and you do so. The same bow you used to enter, you used to leave. Letting the heavy atmosphere remain between the two royals. As soon as you closed the door and left the room, you bumped into Ausdret, Leon's butler.

"Your Highness..." He says in a half bow, looking at you with a frown, as if he suspects something.

You reply with a polite smile, looking at him innocently.

"I was looking for you, princess, the prince asked me to announce his arrival." Ausdret said, and you immediately remembered that Leon had gone out for a horse ride, along with Chris. Another excuse not to leave you alone with the Duke.

"Right, where is he?" You asked, trying to hear what was going on in the King's chamber, but you could hear nothing but incomprehensible whispers.

"In his chambers, he made it clear that he wanted to see you." The butler added, making it clear that it wasn't a debate, if you didn't go to see the prince, he would come to you himself.

You just nodded and left for Leon's quarters. Since the kiss he gave you, something in the relationship had changed. Not that you could say he had any affection for you, but at least he seemed to be warmer.

Perhaps it was because the wedding was tomorrow and he wanted to make a good impression on the people attending, especially his father. At least you could use this as a small gap to try to patch up this doomed relationship, even though you have no idea what to expect, what the outcome will be.

Just as you were about to touch the handle to open the door, you heard footsteps behind you, they sounded like two people, and indeed they were. As soon as you turned around, you saw Ausdret and Leonardo, walking side by side.

Ausdret seemed to be trying to convince the king of something, and he was failing miserably, as for the king, well, his expression was as gloomy as the night. And it seemed that King Leonardo was not only walking to Leon's room, he was marching.

Each step seemed more furious than the last.

The man didn't even give you time to ask him anything, because he stormed into Leon's room himself, slamming the door shut while he talked to Leon about God knows what.

When you heard the door close, you felt so anxious that you couldn't contain yourself, and in the blink of an eye you were behind the door, listening to the conversation on the other side.

For a few minutes you only heard a few murmurs, until you could hear things clearly:

"For God's sake! Are you out of your mind?" You'd be polite to say that it wasn't a scream, as it was obviously one of the clearest shouts you'd heard in a while.

"How the hell did that get into your hands?" This time it was Leon's voice, which sounded indignant and surprised at the same time.

"No. Don't try to change the subject!" Leonardo's older voice echoed in the room once again.

Footsteps and footsteps, an uncomfortable silence, only for a loud voice to echo through the room once again.

"That's enough! This little antics of yours have gone far enough." The king's voice was serious, with no room for argument.

"Don't start. Don't ask me to-" Before he could finish, Leon's sentence was interrupted, just like that.

"It's not a request, it's an order." The king growled, his voice capable of sending shivers down your spine.

You could hear Leon trying to justify himself, but you couldn't hear anything properly, because Leornado was running over him every time, not letting the prince say anything other than a few mumbles.

"That's it! I don't want to hear any more about your recklessness! Put an end to this mess you've made of yourself!" Leonardo's sharp voice was unmistakable.

" Now then, father. I'm not a kid anymore-" And once again Leon was interrupted.

"Then act like a man! Honor what's between your legs. I won't let you destroy your future on a mere whim."

The next thing you heard was something heavy hitting the wall, it sounded like something similar to a punch.

"You're being irreverent, father." Leon says, you could sense the hatred in his voice just by his tone.

"Two days, and that's all you have to end any ties with that woman." The sentence took you aback, how far had it come? To the point where two monarchs had to argue about it.

Not only that, but Leonardo's abrupt intervention seemed to be firm, not something for the moment. He seemed destined to maintain the integrity of his kingdom.

"If you ever speak to that woman again, I will send you into exile!" You were stunned, not believing your own ears.

A father exiling his own son? It was an outrage! Was that your cue? Your chance? Or just a distraction? Something you were expecting too much.

"You wouldn't dare." It was Leon who dared to retort, despite everything, he still couldn't accept the whole situation.

Not least because he had always done everything he wanted, and now they were taking away one of the most important things he had in life.

"Don't try your luck, I hold your future in my hands." After that you heard footsteps heading for the door, and you were quick to move away and hide in a nearby corridor.

You managed to sneak into your room after all the mess, and spent the rest of the day there, thinking about the situation. What had you just done?

Afterwards, your temper rose considerably, as you honestly felt that you were being fair by playing the same game as Leon, in a fair and equal way to him.

At that moment you found yourself humming around the room, looking at yourself in the mirror as you wore that beautiful red dress, made by one of the most renowned seamstresses in the kingdom, and the dress was just as beautiful as you imagined. The fabric was soft and sophisticated, the top clinging to your upper body like a bodice. While the bottom was a large skirt, which, with all the underwire you were wearing, made it impossible not to notice how stunningly beautiful the dress was.

You didn't skimp on the jewelry either, you wore the most expensive ones you had, you were destined to be the center of attention tonight.

If not for Leon, then for Chris. Such a good person in the middle of such a mess, you couldn't let the Duke out of your sight that quickly.

When you were ready, you started towards the main hall, where Leon would be waiting for you. With light, graceful steps you made your way to the main hall, and at the same moment all eyes were on you.

The stunning princess, an almost angelic image.

And well, if your intention was to get Leon to gawk at you, well, you succeeded. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

And at the same moment, he moved towards the bottom of the stairs, wanting to get close to you quickly.

And you were drawn to him like a moth is drawn to light, you knew it would go wrong at some point that night, but you honestly couldn't care less.

Everything around you seemed to stop when you felt Leon's hand on yours, not before he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, letting his lips linger there for a short while.

It was a magnetism you couldn't explain, sometimes it even sounded stupid, but something about Leon made you severely attracted to him somehow, even if he acted in an uncordial way, something about him was mesmerizing.

"You look stunning, princess." Leon said in a whisper, giving you that gallant smile that made you weak in the knees.

You didn't know if it was a lie, if he really meant it and thought it was so, but his affectionate way made you forget all the bad things that had already happened.

This time you let it go, not wanting to think too much about whether he was being sincere or not, maybe for one night it was worth forgetting. After all, it wasn't hard to deny that you were radiant, it wasn't hard to see that something had brightened your day.

But of course you also noticed that Leon was strangely calm, which was odd given what had happened before. It wasn't hard to guess that Leon was the type to never give up so easily, so something seemed uncommon about this situation.

Perhaps he had something in mind, or perhaps he had taken his father's threat as a bluff. But in any case, he was calm, peaceful, so at peace that it was a bit of a surprise.

But if it's going to be like this, there's nothing better than enjoying the small tenderness of such a moment.

As the two of you walked around the ball to talk to the nobles, you could see Leon's incessant gaze on you, he literally watched your every gesture and movement. You didn't know what it was, but he always kept his attention on you. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies blooming in your stomach. Looking into his eyes like that reminded you of the ocean, so beautiful but also so treacherous.

In the meantime you also caught a glimpse of Chris, who was in a corner talking to a lady. Probably those dames who were desperate to find a husband, you could tell by the way the girl giggled and touched his arm every now and then.

Seeing that you were looking at Chris, even smiling at him, Leon couldn't let that happen. As a man he had to uphold his honor, so without thinking too much he pulled you in to dance with him, not asking if you wanted to or not. He just did.

You looked at him in surprise, catching yourself frowning at his sudden attitude, as well as the intimate gesture of putting his hand on your waist, in one swift movement gluing his body against yours.

"I'm lucky to have you for a wife." Leon says, his voice echoing in your ears, his warm breath caressing your skin.

Was that a fallacy or an illusion? He didn't think you'd believe it that easily. But maybe... Just maybe.

"I can say the same for you, Your Highness." You say back, keeping your tone clipped, trying to hide the effect he was beginning to have on you.

But you couldn't hide your goosebumps, your flushed cheeks and that cursed accelerated respiration.

"You're not wearing the jewelry I gave you." He notes, taking the opportunity to twirl you around the room.

You didn't wear it by coincidence, you didn't think it matched the dress you chose for tonight. But apparently he saw it differently. An insult.

"I didn't think it suited the occasion, Your Highness." You say, and you saw his lips twitch when you called him Your Highness. So much formality, for your husband?

"You should, I told you I'd like you to wear it." Of course, his demands. How could you expect anything different?

"I don't remember, forgive me." Even though you tried, there was an undertone of stubbornness in your voice. And it didn't go unnoticed by him.

He put himself even closer to you, spinning you around and over at the dance, always keeping you in his grasp, in his arms. And even with all the anguish he caused you, he was so handsome, so easy to believe in, so tempting.

You got so lost in his expressions that you didn't even notice when he took you out of the main hall, away from the curious eyes that were there. In the blink of an eye you were in one of the corridors, his gaze looking deep into your soul.

"If there's one thing I appreciate, it's a woman's loyalty. Especially yours, dear wife." Leon says, his tone laced with a certain malice, something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You didn't understand where the phrase came from, but you saw him glance briefly at Chris, who was on the other side of the dance. And of course you had already heard some buzz about your 'little escapade' with Chris, about the indecent things you two might have done. If only they'd known who the unfaithful one was.

"We can't ask something of someone if we can't be mutual." The words came out of your mouth in the blink of an eye, even you didn't fully expect it.

Leon's response was mockery, his face contorting into what looked like an expression of anger. But he was able to mask it afterwards.

How reckless of you to answer to your own husband, where was your manners? You should behave like a woman, not a tyrant.

"I didn't understand the insinuation, dear." He murmured, his tone so dark that it made something in you shiver.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to insult you." You said in the calmest, most innocent voice you could muster, feigning ignorance.

At that same moment, you felt Leon pushing you against the wall, both his hands gripped around your waist. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

"Don't worry, I believe it was naïve of you." He says calmly, that look that was once cold becoming something more.

The haughty façade was giving way to his controlling and manipulative side. It wasn't in Leon's nature to accept things just like that, not now and not ever.

He gave a cynical little smile, pushing you a little further against the wall, his fingers tightening around your waist. The way he looked at you gave you such shivers.

It felt like you were looking at the ocean, that captivating shade of blue in his eyes, as if you were admiring the depths of the waters.

"There's something you should have learned by now, princess." He whispered, his voice bringing out something in you, a warmth rising in your body, a foreign feeling.

You found yourself blushing, biting your lip as you stared at him. And that feeling of warmth only increased when he moved closer, letting his lips linger on your ear.

"I always gamble to win," he said, making your goosebumps rise as he breathed on your ear, "and I always win."

It was the last thing he said, taking the opportunity to kiss your earlobe, you could see him smiling in the corner as he watched your reaction.

He had you in the palm of his hand at that moment, he knew that very well.

"There's always a first time for everything..." You manage to say back, trying somehow to be as bold as him.

But despite the harsh words, your expression gave you away completely. How could he take you seriously with you blushing so much? Your cheeks as red as strawberries. Or the way you, without the slightest intention, looked at him with sly eyes. As if you wanted to earn something.

All the reaction you got from him was a low chuckle, you felt his lips come down to your jaw, so close to your neck that he couldn't help himself, and he let your sweet smell into his nostrils.

"No, darling. I don't think you understand." He says more firmly, this time letting his free hand grip your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on him.

"I never lose. No matter what it costs me." This line of his could imply so many things, you felt your thinking was all out of place.

Was he doing it out of a sense of competition? Because he didn't want to lose to Chris? Or maybe because he wanted to have ownership over something that wasn't his. You.

He didn't like losing, and probably wanted to keep you in his clutches whatever the cost. If he had you in the palm of his hand, he'd have access to a more than healthy kingdom, just as if he had an obedient wife, he'd have no problems.

A wife who would give him heirs, stay with him in good and bad, in sickness and in health, waiting for him while he cared for the crowd. So perfect.

But oh, he was so wrong if he thought you would fulfill that role. So damn wrong.

As you looked at each other like that, you smiled a little, letting your hand rest on his forearm.

"We have something in common, Your Highness." You say calmly, looking at him tensely.

Once he opened his mouth to speak, you indelicately spoke over him, "I'm not in the habit of losing either."

That was that, the disagreement was more than exposed.

Cheeky, disdainful, petulant and impolite. That's how you were acting, far from any decency you had been taught.

You watched as Leon stuck his tongue in his teeth, glaring at you in a defiant manner.

"You need better manners, dear. Maybe you should remember how a woman should act." God knows how that sentence made your blood rise, but it did.

But the look in his eyes said so many things, it was so convincing, not least because he knew that you would be his tomorrow, whether you wanted to be or not.

Not least because he was your future husband, wasn't he?

The dance would continue, and so would the evening. The roles of husband and wife duly filled, painful words veiled in the sweetness of love.

You might have hated him, but there was no escape. So much so that you thought nothing of it, and once again he led you to dance in that ballroom.

The journey was far from over, as was all your frustration. Because he wouldn't let you leave his side.

No, you'd be with him all night. Romantic? Maybe to the blind eye of the real situation, but oh, that's what you're here for, isn't it?

Continue the theater, people are watching.

Taglist: @gollumsmygel, @quemmysworld, @loveoverdosing, @delulusimps, @d3jecteddoll, @kennedyleyy, @acriixys, @deredvv, @luminehallowss

[clare-with-no-i]

theogony part 1 behind the scenes

**SPOILERS ahead for theogony and mild spoilers for Outlander!**

this is just going to be a long infodump of all of the things I pondered while writing theog (specifically part 1, part 2 will come later) but never talked about! I'll try to go chapter by chapter, and maybe I'll end up adding more later on, but for now I just think it'd be fun to chitchat and reminisce on some of my favorite tidbits. this story is really my baby idk :")

Prologue - Alalá

one thing that I wanted to establish in the prologue, other than the obvious James-Sirius dynamic, is the presence of otherworldly or spiritual premonitions in this universe. it was always important to me that the first person who actually made any sort of prophetic declaration was James.

so much of the story relies on Lily's status as an oracle, but this little tidbit here helped build the world for me so much; we can't be sure if James's various dreams and premonitions are wishful thinking, or really the Gods speaking to him, or something else entirely. of course, this story deals with time travel, so there's an inherent supernatural element. but Lily and James's conflicting – and sometimes competing – conceptions of God felt like such a necessary tension for me to explore. it was such an incredible shorthand for the tension between modern and ancient sensibilities. and we never get a definitive answer to those looming questions, which I knew I wanted to do from the outset. did the Gods bring Lily back to the past? did James? did she do it herself? does God/the Gods even exist?

also: there are probably moments where I failed to do this, but I tried to capitalize Gods in all of the James chapters but not in Lily's, unless she was referring to the Abrahamic Capital G God. that is, until the last chapter, which I'll elaborate upon later :)

also: i wrote the prologue first, then the epilogue, and then i posted the prologue pretty immediately after. I had the entire story roughly outlined but I absolutely jumped the gun when it came to posting the prologue LMAO I didn't even really announce the story, I just joked about writing it and then posted the prologue, which you can see from the beginning note. i remember Suze was about to go to sleep and she started messaging me like wtf Clare what do you MEAN?

and the rest was history (pun completely intended)!

Chapter One: Ouroboros

the narrative brushes past the other statues in this section pretty quickly, but I always imagined that the first bust is Philoctetes, James's father. I think the consensus on this one tends to oscillate between Philoctetes and Aristides, which is another great interpretation.

The reason I wrote it this way and imagined it to be Philoctetes is because I thought it would have been nice to let Lily 'meet' James's father (in a sense), even before she 'meets' him. when I read this chapter back after I first finished the story, I had a very soft moment where I close-read my own fic (lol) and thought that maybe it was Philoctetes who sent Lily back to the past. maybe he sensed something about her and knew she'd be right for James and for antiquity.

sooo many people forgot about this! which i was hoping for!!!!! I was hoping everyone would forget about James's statue holding something until the Big Reveal. fun fact is I wrote the reveal right after this. I liked the idea that, no, he was never going to actually be holding anything. he'd be reaching for Lily. the choice to accept his hand was always going to be hers.

a fun fact about this chapter is that I had to pull from a bit more Outlander lore than I originally thought. and no I don't mean the 'Jesus H Roosevelt Christ' part lol. It was always hilarious to me how Outlander set up Claire to be the objectively perfect person to go back in time. she was a combat nurse who happened to develop an interest in medicinal botany and Scottish-English history. she also happened to spend her formative years with her adventurous archaeologist uncle after her only living relatives died. like girl. lol.

so I had to really toss up which traits I thought it would be appropriate for Lily to have as she traveled back in time. the biggest one, obviously, is her field of study, which was necessary given the language barrier and the completely foreign nature of social norms in Classical Athens. I toyed around with the idea of making her mum a nurse so as to give her some base medical knowledge, but that felt a) unnecessary given the circumstances of the story, and b) far-fetched that she would have gleaned enough transferable skills to apply in 479 BCE.

it was also fun to give her more reason to go back to the future; she has a sister who, while they aren't in contact, is a significant emotional attachment; she has academic goals; she has a best friend (however toxic we know him to be). it added a layer of conflict that I enjoyed playing up, even if I definitely could have explored her modern life more fully.

Chapter Two: Kinesis

soooo much exposition and worldbuilding in this chapter. oml. it was so much fun to play around with the reasons why James would be in Tatoi in the first place; I can't remember quite how I landed on the Persian auxiliary soldier thing, it might have been from my initial (admittedly extensive) research on the months leading up to Plataea; it may have just been the fact that I KID YOU NOT this story used to take up all of my fucking brainspace. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I'd be doing work for my research fellowship and just daydream about theogony. the initial idea came to me AS A JOKE!!!!! when i was idly pondering before going to sleep (as one does), and then it just wouldn't leave me alone. i kept imagining what it might look like. I thought about how the time travel might work. I thought about James's Greek equivalent. I ranted to my sister and her dog (he did not care) about what the statue might look like and mean (sorry bestie love u).

one narrative decision that has given me a bit of strife was the Dimitrios-James name change. I've had a number of people ask me if I'd ever try to pubilsh theog – and this is one of the (many) reasons why that would be pretty categorically impossible. using James's English name in his internal narration, instead of the name I give him as a Greek man, is something that only translates to fic. it makes pretty much no sense at all if you consider these original characters lol.

honestly putting the word 'practicum' in here caused me SO much pain. in James's chapters I tried really hard to use words which had Greek roots and not Latin roots, even if they're in modern English today. in most of his chapters, I'd try and find synonyms for big/complex words so I could use ones that came from Greek. it just helped me stick to his narrative voice a bit more.

I forgot how much STUFF went on in this chapter. oh my god SO much happens?? we get the lack of the Parthenon as the time marker (felt very clever doing that), Lily processing the fact that she's time traveled (lazy writing on my part to not have this happen in a Lily POV chapter but I'll take that on the chin), the Plataea reveal. OML. tired just thinking about it. lily sweetie i am so sorry

guys, the amount of time I spent wondering if I should Greek-ify Sirius's name is insane. For so long I thought about making him Seirios, which is the original Greek version of Sirius. But I felt like I had already messed with their names too much, and so I left it. but honestly I'm still torn. looking back, maybe it would have been the right move to make him Seirios and have Lily give him the name Sirius, but I guess we'll never know!

one of my favorite Sirius moments, and something that, essentially, sets up the rest of the story. but I wanted there to be a little ambiguity throughout the story about how much of this Sirius actually believes.

we know that James has just confessed to Sirius and Pétros that he was hoping they'd desert the Athenian army. we know that he thinks he's going to die, and he's adopted this sort of fatalist view of his future. and then here you have Sirius, who could never abide such a thing, pretty much leaning into the idea that Lily can tell the future – which would allow him to challenge James's prediction. I always wanted to leave it up to interpretation, and I know it comes up in later chapters (at the komos especially), Sirius's skepticism about Lily's origins. but it's such a fun question to ask: does he really believe that she's the Oracle that James prayed for, or does he just need that to be true so he can try and influence the future himself?

Chapter Three: Peribolos

omg. lol. the chapter three opening academic argument scene. this is a favorite of mine, and something I had so much fun writing. it's actually based on an argument/"spirited discussion" I had with my dad a few years ago about moral absolutism versus moral relativism which forced me to interrogate and expand my knowledge on the subject. I thought it was such a fun way to get into Lily's politics and her character without doing crazy exposition in the ancient world.

it also touches upon one of the touchstone themes of the story: that to study something is, in a way, to detach yourself from it. academia is routintely completely disconnected from its subject matter, and it creates this weird disdain for lived experience versus book knowledge. Lily has spent upwards of ten years studying (in some capacity) the ancient world, but she is so utterly out of her depth when she experiences it herself. as such, she espouses these very revolutionary politics when examining historical conflicts, but she has a blindness to what the real-world realities may have been for the people living in those conditions at the time.

alsooooo, The Return of Martin Guerre is one of my favorite books I read in college, and the easter egg here is that it's about a person of dubious origin entering a community and the politics of how the community might accept or reject them. ha ha!

^^based on something I said in an argument with a Poli Sci major in college and I have to say one of my better moments. was an absolute haymaker. this was very 'author gives main character a zinger' of me and I will not be ashamed of it

this! ladies and gentlemen! this was basically a declaration of love!!!! to be loved is to be remembered!!!

in a very romantic way, the study of history can be such an act of love to those who lived before us. i just adore the idea that, even before Lily developed real romantic feelings for James, she had this itching sort of feeling; AKA, when someone has made such an impression on you, and you know (or in her case, you think) that you'll be leaving them at some point, and you just want to be interesting enough, be impressive enough, that they remember you, that they think of you randomly as time goes on. that is such a giddy hallmark feeling of having a crush, in my book. I liken it to making eye contact with someone or having a brief conversation on a night out, maybe at 3am on your way back from a bar when things are sleepy and dizzy, and you just have this sense that you're being seen in that moment as anyone you want to be. i love this moment so much I feel like I could give it its own meta LMAO

Chapter Four: Hamartia

this chapter really put the pedal to to the metal lol. at the time of writing the story, I generally didn't (and still don't) love fake dating that much as a trope; I don't typically love plotlines predicated on (even harmless) deceptions, it's just a sensitivity of mine that I don't expect anyone to relate to or share. but when I was considering how to structure theog, it just made so much sense for James and Lily's arcs to have them get 'married.' there was no way that Lily was going to be able to navigate Classical Athens as an unsupervised woman alone, and even with the Oracle title offering her some protection, there was nothing really tying her to James. much like Outlander, it really did feel like the last possible resort, which softened me to the idea of using the trope.

fun fact, i got a snarky comment a few months ago complaining that i was trying to pass the story off as historically accurate (lol to the fifteen disclaimers I embedded throughout which addressed that) and one thing they took issue with was that lily wouldn't have been able to own property and the only thing that would have kept her from being a slave would have been marriage.

which! yknow! none of which contradict the story! but anyway I digress.

I was initially nervous about how early on the fake marriage happens; we don't really know the characters that well yet, we're not sure who James is as a potential partner to Lily, or how Lily's feelings for him are starting to bump up against her very rightful and justified desire to get the hell out of dodge. but – we only really see James in canon as a husband and as the father to the main character, so it felt pretty true to the source material to throw him into being a husband pretty early.

I loved writing this scene with Aristides. I've always been partial to his appearances throughout the story, and this one is just so special to me. I think of him as a driving force in humanizing the ancient world in theog, sometimes even more so than the main cast of characters. to elaborate a bit on that: with the Marauders and Lily and the other transplanted HP characters, I think there's this inherent sense that they are already fleshed out people (to some degree) even before they hit the page of the story, because they appear in canon and across Marauder fic verses. no matter how much I make James into Dimitrios and Peter into Pétros and Fleamont into Philoctetes, people know them and love them outside of theogony verse. but not Aristides. he doesn't have a one-to-one HP character. there is some version of him that really existed in 479 BCE (my complex and largely negative feelings on RPF are setting off alarms at this but we proceed) and that's it.

it would have been easy to just give him this very gruff and surly character, to make him a military general who didn't care about anything other than the war. I think that's how we conceptualize historical people sometimes, often without meaning to. but he was a person, and he had likes and dislikes, he probably had a family and maybe he'd fallen in love, and it was such an honor to give him such dimension. not to say that I'm putting that personality upon the actual historical person; but just to really take my time with a character outside of the Marauder canon. in this scene he has this human moment where he reminds James that, yes, love is a worthy pursuit, even to those in positions of incredible power. even when the discussion isn't about romantic love but about James's love for his closest friends. it's this permission that James didn't even know he was seeking but ultimately that changes the course of his and Lily's lives. Aristides is who James might become, in many ways. in the actual Plataea chapter this becomes more and more prevalent. (more on this later!)

overall, I am forever hoping that people come out of reading this story with an appreciation for the humanity of those that came before us. I did a poor job with other characters in this story, and I own that, but I'm proud of how I wrote Aristides.

oh my godddddd I fucking love this part. i am so fucking proud of it. LMAO. achieving wordplay in an ancient language that i have never studied should be on my fucking CV I swear. like this was just perfect I'm sorry I am BUZZING that I pulled this off.

also, a cute way to introduce a phrase to the narrative which will become very important: se filo!

I remember that I wrote this passage, which many people commented on and which I loved writing, in a coffee shop on a sunny day when my cousin was visiting me to introduce me to his girlfriend. there wasn't any wifi in the coffee shop so I was blessedly devoid of distractions and could only focus on the doc, and i was LOCKED IN let me tell you.

when my cousin and his girlfriend arrived I told them I was sending an important email and edited the last sentence of that paragraph about four different times while they sat in silence and waited for me to finish LMAOOO

Chapter Five: Ascesis

a profoundly insane moment in my personal history was reading excerpts from Eudemian Ethics, Nichomachean Ethics, and Memorabilia just to passively mention them in a flashback in a fic. relied heavily on Foucault for this, I will be so honest. why did i do that tho. like girl take a breath...

but in all seriousness this was just a joy to write. i miss being a history student and having these discussions – law school is great, but history classes will forever hold my heart ngl! also, this passage is in some ways an homage to my grandfather, who is one of my favorite people ever. he taught himself Classical Greek and Latin when he was in his 20s, before he went to medical school (and get his pilot's license for fun, he's seriously the most interesting guy alive). he gifted me his leatherbound Great Books printings of Aristotle's works and of the Iliad and the Odyssey shortly after I started theogony, and I cherish them so much. he spurred my interest in ancient greece when i was young. so this is for him :)

one of the hardest things for me to articulate (and maybe something I could have done better) was the war and the balance between James's inherent goodness and his growing feelings for Lily. i wanted her to have plausible reason to think that he doesn't at all feel romantically towards her, even as she's growing to admire him more and more. I hoped, as I wrote the story, that these little interactions where the reader clues into his feelings (this protective 'peninsula' moment being one of them) still walked that line. as in, i wanted lily to reasonably believe that he's just that good of a guy that he would take issue with anyone being taken advantage of, not just her. she's so destabilized in this moment as well, I think that worked to my advantage. or I hoped it did LOL.

from what I remember of writing this chapter, it just came really quickly and naturally. much more than the later ones. this early period of writing was just an outpouring of the ABSOLUTE BRAINROT I was going through after conjuring up the idea for the story. it just flew. the ending scene where they have their little almost-moment was probably about an hour's worth of writing. it's like I couldn't type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. not sure i've experienced that since!

also, the now, here, alive line reappears in the last chapter, which is one of my favorite callbacks:

:) :) :)

Chapter Six: Kleos

one thing I used to worry about CONSTANTLY is that I was losing the classic (and necessary!) Marauder goofiness to the more somber setting. so it was a jaunt and a boon to write scenes like the opening one here, where it honestly could be copy-pasted into the Gryffindor Common Room and it'd look a lot like my canon stories.

he's just a dude being hungover and embarrassed about the previous night with his bros!

the first time we get a hint of Pétros disappearing to dubious locations!

this chapter was one of the most research-heavy. it was a new setting, filled with new characters, and predicated entirely upon planning the Greek front at Plataea. so if I couldn't nail that down (at least to some degree), I was going to have trouble. of course I took liberties, but I spent a lot longer combing through sources for this chapter than some other ones, I'll tell you that for free. it took ages to find any treatises on ancient athenian sword combat, sigh.

yeah I mean i remember thinking that the subtitle for this chapter could have been 'I am going to create an environment that is so toxically masculine' because that's pretty much the whole vibe. James is not immune to that, either, and that was intentional. he feeds off of the violence and the anger of the men surrounding him, and he exhibits some behaviors in this chapter (rushing off to kill Anaxagoras after he grabs Lily's arm, for instance) which are not ideal! but I do think that there's meaningful conversation to be had about Lily's cultural assimilation into an ancient, misogynistic society, and how there was absolutely no way I was going to get out of this story without giving James some sort of period-typical attitude. now again, I took the liberties I deem necessary, because I have no desire to make my main romantic lead into an asshole. that's not my James Potter. not that that's news [gets taken out by a sniper]

i got CLOWNEDDD for referring to this dude as Dion son of Dion but idk what to tell you!! that's how the old documents referred to him!!! i didn't make that shit up I swear to god!!!!

also - that's the actual text of the Oath of Plataea, except (as Lily points out) it should read Athena Areia. is it likey that she'd remember this off the dome? no. is it possible that she just recognized the missing descriptor from context clues? yes. did i care enough to explain this either way? no, no i did not.

the Big Ticket Item of this chapter, though, is the oh.

and it wasn't just an oh, it was an oh followed by this innocuous conclusion that isn't even about Lily. i made myself laugh so hard with that. he's just like 'oh god my friend is going to wave this over my head FOREVER' and you know what? he's right!

as for the previous paragraph in that passage, I pulled a bit of a bait and switch, but not as badly as you might think! it was a risk to even bring up the idea that James could leave Athens, because I know it spurred some people into thinking that he'd go to the future with Lily (sorry babies that was not on the table). but what I intended for this passage (however successful it may or may not have been) was to just…allow him a moment of real, visceral empathy for the sensation of displacement that Lily's experiencing, and as well, introduce the idea that he might leave the life he's cultivated in Athens. his entire upbringing has been himself, the consummate Athenian man, surrounding himself with people from outside of Athens and drawing from their experiences, but never venturing outside of his little realm. in so many ways, the story questions what Lily's relationship with 'home' is (especially later on), but it always felt necessary to me to reckon with how 'home' may change for James as well.

finally:

yeah honestly i just remember the exact moment i thought of this passage. i had been reading the secret history (shoutout Donna Tartt i idolize and fear you) and i was lying down in my local park in the summer. I just thought about the Greek myths I knew, and the kind of cosmic horror that it is to really admit you're falling in love with someone, that they have this power over you that you didn't anticipate. and that closing line of the scene really struck me out of nowhere – I wrote it down in my notebook and just stared at it for a good few minutes. it's still one of my favs of the story :)

ok! if you made it this far, you are just amazing. this has to be a few thousand words at least. TYSM!!!!

see you all later for the part 2 BTS ❤️

[gxthicupid]

𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗢 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗱 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 + 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦

𝗡𝗘 𝗭𝗛𝗔 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗬

I know this theory has been talked about a lot, but I would like to put my own thoughts and opinions about Ne Zha’s age. Of course, Ne Zha died at the age of 12, yet in the series; considered to be a somewhat spin-off/sequel to the Journey to the West novel, he appears to be physically an adult.

Understandably, some people wanted to defend the idea of Ne Zha physically and mentally grown since Journey to the West by using other country’s beliefs of Ne Zha depicted as an adult, however, other countries still depict Ne Zha as a child, and the crew for LEGO Monkie Kid revealed he was canonically a child during Season 4, Episode 5 “The Court of the Yellow-Robed Demon”. This leaves to the question of how he managed to appear older. 

I have been pondering on the idea for quite some time, and while going through several posts of people’s headcanons, references from other media depicting the other characters from Journey to the West, I have come to a conclusion. 

To support this theory, I will be using Macaque as an example to answer the mystery behind Ne Zha’s sudden ageing in LEGO Monkie Kid. It has become abundantly clear Macaque has a missing eye, and in the Season 3, Episode 8, “Benched”, while trying to retrieve the third Samadhi Ring from Tang, for a split second, the tip of his tail becomes slightly white. 

While going through fanart, people often depict Macaque, having glamorised his looks in order to hide his features (i.e., his scarred eye). Saying that, I believe Ne Zha has adapted to glamorise his child form into an adult form, possibly from wanting to fit his mental age physically and feel comfortable. Macaque so far, hasn’t shown his true form for a prologue time, I believe Nezha can hold his adult form without any difficulty. 

𝗠𝗞’𝗦 𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗬

Season 5 of LEGO Monkie Kid is bound to show Nuwa, or MK’s supposed mother, on the show. Most people are wanting Nuwa to be a loving and caring mother, however, I do not believe that will be the case considering the direction the show is taking on MK’s backstory.

In the Season 4 special “Emperor’s Wrath”, the Kings of Hell in the Underworld are shown to be devising a plan for the upcoming events for Season 5, and personally, I believe Nuwa will be some sort of secondary villain associated with the main plot in Season 5. 

I am predicting that Nuwa has some strong connections, or at the very least, is acquainted with the Kings of Hell. Perhaps in the past, the Kings of Hell held a grudge against Sun Wukong after erasing his name from the Book of the Dead.

They weren’t able to change the pages since the paper magically link to the people whose names are written, and possibly, recreating a new set of paper will negatively affect the other people’s mortality; which the Kings of Hell are not willing to risk. 

Leading to the Kings of Hell requesting the aid of the creator of humans, Nuwa, since the residents of the Celestial Realm are not going to approve such a dire plan without the approval of the Jade Emperor.

Maybe the Kings of Hell gained Nuwa’s interest throughout a promise with a type of reward at the end of deal, and making her create a lifeform with equal or stronger power than Sun Wukong.

From the flashback in Season 4 Episode 6, “Show Me The Monster'', there were several stone statues of various animals before the creation of MK (hinting there were several attempts to create the perfect lifeform). 

The idea of creating MK as a mystic monkey probably links to the Journey to the West novel, in the chapter where Macaque shapeshifted into the Monkey King and deceives the other pilgrims; and before the reveal of the Six-Eared Macaque, it was stated that the imposter was close to Sun Wukong’s power level, which, I’m assuming, Nuwa took note.  

Since Season 4 has hinted that Sun Wukong had some sort of connection with MK before he was created, I am predicting that he possibly knew Nuwa as a friend before she became an acquaintance with the Kings of Hell. Nuwa used that relationship as an advantage to analyse his skills and powers, while discussing using Sun Wukong as a pawn to help MK to be trained by the Monkey King, in order for MK to unlock his powers later in life. 

Reasoning why I believe Sun Wukong isn’t aware of Nuwa is supported in the Season 4 special, “Emperor’s Wrath”, when Azure Lion was defeated, Sun Wukong questioned him who set him free from the Scroll of Memory, and Azure Lion had no recollection.

Supporting this theory, judging the age of MK when he first met Pigsy in Season 4, Episode 6, “Show Me The Monster”, he seemed to be around the age of 5 years old, which when he should some remembered of Nuwa or Sun Wukong to some degree, but it’s possibly she must have erased MK’s memories. This might be an ability that she might use in Season 5.  

Nuwa must have deceived Sun Wukong somehow to convince him to protect MK when he proves himself to have potential to become Sun Wukong’s successor, not only to allow MK’s abilities to develop and become stronger, but she might also use MK to spy on the Monkey King from afar.  

To support this theory, I will use the 5th Anniversary LEGO set of Monkie Kid, as Nuwa is seen to be in disguise while running a jade shop in Megapolis. Perhaps she purposely dropped MK off at Pisgy’s Noodles and lived around the city to observe MK and waited until he was ready to wield the staff. Sun Wukong must have done the same, but without the knowledge of Nuwa’s plan with the Kings of Hell (To learn Sun Wukong’s weaknesses for the sake of devising a plan).  

In the pilot episode of LEGO Monkie Kid, “A Hero is Born”, MK needed to deliver some noodles to a customer, but ended up dealing with the Demon Bull Family. Perhaps Nuwa also purposely made MK make the trip so that he can find Monkey King’s staff and allow MK to meet Sun Wukong and start training because Nuwa might have a deadline to finish her end of the deal, before the Kings of Hell will take action in Season 5.

𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗞𝗘𝗬𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Connecting to the last theory, I believe there will be a likely chance that Season 5 will introduce the other mystic monkeys from the Journey to the West novel. Judging from the direction of the LEGO Monkie Kid series, there will be new characters introduced other than Nuwa, considering that Season 5 will focus more on MK’s past, and him learning how to control his monkey powers.

For those who aren’t aware, in the Journey to the West novel, it is canon that there are a total of four mystic monkeys, which includes Sun Wukong (Spirit Intelligent Stone Monkey) and Macaque (Six-Eared Macaque Monkey). 

The other two are known as the Red Butt Horse Monkey and the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey (using the translated names from the Chinese characters).

Since the series does slightly alternate the Journey to the West lore, perhaps the Red Butt Horse Monkey and Pass through Arm Ape Monkey were created before Sun Wukong and Macaque, and the idea of MK being a new mystic monkey existing in the LEGO Monkie Kid show does bring their attention and they will contribute to the main conflict of Season 5 (Perhaps they know much more about the upcoming conflict with the Kings of Hell and MK’s monkey power awakening).

This prediction might be a bit of a stretch, but since MK’s monkey powers will most likely be one of the main focuses for the plot of Season 5, I believe these two monkeys are willing to become an influence; both negatively and positively.

Reasoning for this prediction is connected to the fact that the Red Butt Horse Monkey is known to have the ability to avoid death and lengthen its life, which I believe might lead the show to make an alliance with Nuwa and the Kings of Hell. 

Meanwhile, the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey might be helping MK through his glitching when it comes to his monkey form, and might have more knowledge about dealing with  MK’s problem than Monkey King.

To support this theory, in Season 4, Episode 7, “Pitiful Creatures”, when Wukong first sees MK’s glitching, he looks like he doesn’t look like he know how to deal this side-effect of unlocking the monkey powers, considering that Sun Wukong and Macaque were already created as monkeys and were able control their powers. 

The Pass through Arm Ape Monkey might have known of MK’s existence through the battle against Azure Lion in the Season 4 special, “Emperor’s Wrath”, as the sky and the whole world was breaking apart, and since the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey can manipulate the moon and stars.

It could be the reason why the Red Butt Horse Monkey told Nuwa and the Kings of Hell about MK’s powers.  

I don’t have anything else to say about this theory/prediction. However, if the series doesn’t show them, there HAS to be some influence, Easter eggs, etc. connecting to these mystic monkeys.

𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗕𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Aside from Sun Wukong and Macaque having their pasts explored, the series does have the Demon Bull King appearance in these flashbacks since he was once a member of the Brotherhood, first revealed in Season 4, Episode 2, “New Adventures”, as everyone is discussing who will be the next Jade Emperor after overthrowing the current one.

From this single flashback alone, DBK was shown to be a good guy, fighting alongside his sworn brothers for they thought was right, and it does beg the question: What made him change his morality from good to bad?

In the pilot, Season 1, “A Hero is Born”, he is first introduced as the main antagonist whose goal is to conquer the world, and suddenly Sun Wukong traps him under a mountain despite DBK being his sworn brother. This minor detail is very unusual considering that in Season 3, Episode 10 “The Samadhi Fire”, showcases Sun Wukong, Demon Bull King and Ne Zha helping to separate the Samadhi Fire from Redson as a child.

Judging from this scene, the event must have taken place post to the Journey to the West, as the Monkey King isn’t wearing the circlet, as most of the flashbacks which are taking place in the Journey to the West shows him wearing the circlet given from Tang Sanzang. The pilot does show Sun Wukong wearing the same suit of armour as in Season 3, Episode 10 “The Samadhi Fire”, and it's strange how the Monkey King went from helping the Demon Bull King to fighting him. 

Either something happened between the events of removing of the Samadhi Fire and the events occurred in the pilot, or off-screen there was some conflict between the two, but set a temporary truce to help Redson with the Samadhi Fire.

The most assumed event that could pinpoint the morality change of the Demon Bull King would be when he and Princess Iron Fan met during the battle against Heaven. However, I highly doubt that. Since this event took place before the birth of Redson, and if Demon Bull King and Sun Wukong didn’t have conflict during this time period, then this accusation would be inaccurate. 

This wasn’t a theory or a prediction, however, I REALLY do feel like talking about this since it’s been bugging me for quite some time. I hope that Season 5 will be able to resolve this plot hole and perhaps it might correlate with the main plot of the next.

While I do hope, I also doubt it since the Demon Bull Family has not had much screen time in recent seasons. But simultaneously, I bet there will be a chance since the new 5th Anniversary LEGO set does display Redson working at the BBQ restaurant in Megapolis, so maybe a slim chance. 

I was going to talk about Peng and Erlang working together in Season 5, considering the current conflict with the Monkie Gang and Peng, and due to the fact that Erlang is a cousin? Brother? Or a family member of the Jade Emperor according to the Journey to the West novel, and wanted to avenge his death.

(Probably ignore this one, this was a last minute theory)

But I didn’t know what else to talk about and it does seem like the two will be working on their own.  

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the theories that I have come up with. I haven’t gotten the chance to re-watch all of the episodes of LEGO Monkie Kid, so I mostly relied on my memory. Leave some comments about your thoughts and theories of the series or what will happen in Season 5.    

[riddles-n-games]

So my friend @hathorneheiress has helpfully posted that Indigo books has a free preview of The Grandest Game and I went to read the available chapters. If I'm being honest, the prologue legit sounded like I was reading another flashback sequence with Jameson and Tobias. I also can tell that Lyra comes from the same sort of place as Avery, maybe a different life and other struggles but still same gig. We've seen this.

In all honesty, I keep coming back to this fear that JLB is just going to ruin what she already has with the current four books and the characters there. If the characters literally sound like the same characters she just finished hashing out and claims to be leaving behind, then I believe that as a reader, I am going to find myself constantly living in the past with The Inheritance Games books and the old characters as I read this book. I don't think I'll even be able to see them as separate characters because I might just confuse them for Avery or Jameson. I don't want to be a Debbie Downer but realistically, this might end up making our new mains carbon copies of the old and why should they? If she already took it upon herself to write a new series with three new main characters, they deserve to be fleshed out properly and not to sound like Jameson, Avery, and girl Xander.

And the scenes? I already see the literal sequence play by play being the same as Avery's start in TIG. Lyra deserves better. Rohan deserves better. Gigi and Savannah deserve better. Look, I may not want to go into this book with preconceived notions but The Brothers Hawthorne gave us the real preview. We already have a feel for Rohan, Gigi, and Savannah. We said that Rohan is another Jameson, Gigi is a mix of Xander AND Jameson and Savannah is girl Grayson as stated by Xander himself. But from the looks of it, Lyra will be a mix of Avery and Grayson. That's why I HATE that I keep getting feelings of doubt and fear regarding my expectations for The Grandest Game.

Btw here is the link to the Indigo Books preview:

The Grandest Game: Indigo Exclusive Edition.

[momolady]

April Fool's! Author April 2024 #1

I posted some of this on Patreon and it got some good feedback. But I wanted to share some stuff before I posted it. I found a file with a ton of old writing on it. If you were on Patreon in October you got to see some of this mess. For Author April I decided to share here so ya'll can see where I started. I've been writing since I was ten, but I started writing original works around the time I got out of high school. Anyways, this is Wild Adapter. It was from 2009.

I was barely 20.

This story is FIFTEEN years old. But anyways...

I found the old book cover I made for this story and I wanted to share despite how humiliatingly bad it is. I am already considering reworking it and making it a novel by rewriting, editiing and changing a lot. My bff even gave the news that she so loved a character from this story she considered naming one of her twins after them.

So like, maybe this is worth investing time and love back into, maybe it's worth revisiting my late teens early twenties and see if that idiot had something going I can finish. Let me know, would love to make this a journey to share next year!

Prologue

Fate leads the willing and drags along the unwilling. -Seneca

When I was little, my father took me to where he worked. He was a doctor for a special orphanage and some of his patients had been asking to see me. The entire time we were there, Dad never let go of me, and whenever he did he was so close beside me it was like he was my shadow. Dad had never been this protective of me before. At the park he let me run free as long as I stayed in his sight, but he never watched me like a hawk.

He showed me into a room that had four sets of bunk beds, and I found it odd considering the room was so small. Then there were six boys and two girls. The two girls clamored around me, held me, kissed me, cooed and giggled to me. The six boys watched me with curiosity. They were amazingly still and quiet, only whispering to one another for brief moments. They were watching me as if I were some sort of fascinating animal. It looked like they wanted to approach me but were afraid I’d run away from them if I did.  

One boy managed to gather up the courage to approach. He broke away from the group and kneeled before me and the other two girls. He held his hand out and I grabbed onto it almost instinctively. I don’t remember much about him, or anyone else in that room, but I did remember the boy’s eyes as he watched me. I can’t remember the color, only that they fascinated me, dazzled me. I was little so I was able to comprehend a lot more about emotions and sensations than I do now. I can remember a great burst a joy as he looked down at me. His hand tightened over mine and he pulled me towards him. I heard Dad shout, but I felt no danger. I felt safe. The boy clutched me tightly in his arms. I heard the girls coo and muse sweetly. The boy held me tight and firm. I wasn’t sure, but I believe he was crying.  I wanted to hold him. But my arms were too small.

Chapter One: The Empty House

I came home expecting the house to be completely empty. I could also see smoke rising from the chimneystack on father’s private lab where our backyard had once been. This meant I would have to make dinner then deliver it to him and watch him eat it to make sure he actually had something to eat that night.

Dad and I lived alone in a three story Victorian mansion painted mint green. The house itself was largely unfurnished due to that fact it was too big for the two of us. The house also had a screened in porch at the back and ivy growing all around it and up to the roof. It had been in my mother’s family for generations. Technically, according to family tradition, I was the heir of the house considering I was mother’s last living descendent. Dad and I joked about this. He said I could kick him out anytime and he could live alone in the lab. I said then I wouldn’t have to work and I could let my friends live in the house with a monthly rent. I would never do that though, even though Dad did practically live in the lab. The mansion was his home, our home. And we were the only things we truly had.

In back, where my swing set used to be, sat Dad’s private lab. I tried to keep it private for him, but every so often I went inside and became his lab assistant. To me it looked like the science lab of a high school, a well stocked high school lab at that.

During the seventies a garage with an apartment above it had been added back when my mom’s parents did use it as a boarding house. The apartment had been Mom’s room, keeping her away from all the hippies and beatniks her parents said. The garage apartment then became my brother Spencer’s when he turned ten. I hadn’t been inside it for over ten years. At least not since he and Mom died. In fact the garage itself became untouched save for storage. Dad and I parked out front then walked around to the back door and into the bright, yellow kitchen.

I was surprised though, that when I entered the house Dad was sitting at the table preparing the take out he had ordered from Lee’s Take Out Dragon of Fifth Street. We both stared at each other for a moment, as if we had no idea who the other person was. We then smiled awkwardly and went on with what we had been doing before.

I sat my school things in the closet and kicked my shoes off against my bag. I then wafted over to the dinner table and looked over the spread Dad had ordered. It was a rare occasion when Dad made dinner. It wasn’t that he was lazy or a bad parent, he just got wrapped up in his work easily. That, and he nearly burns down the house every time he attempts to cook.

He sometimes jokingly said that while working he would remember he had a daughter and come in to discover me five years older than he had last seen me. For me, I said he’d come in looking the same each and every time I saw him.

His hair would be shaggy, unkempt, and graying around the ears. His lab coat, uneven due to sloppy buttoning, yellowing at the cuffs and collar, and dingy from being worn without-end. His shoes untied, scuffed, and often times mismatched like his socks. His glasses smudged, lopsided, and duct taped to the point I had to force him to buy a new pair.

His face was unexplainably young and handsome for his age. Under his disheveled hair he had bright green eyes surrounded by long black lashes. He had a cute button nose and smooth cheeks with high cheekbones. He had dimples whenever he smiled and a round beauty mark at the corner of his lips. Despite his scruffy and unkempt appearance my father’s skin was always clean and unblemished furthering his youthful appearance.

I more than often thought my father was an ancient alchemist who had created a philosopher’s stone and was perpetually manufacturing an elixir that kept him from aging. If so, this answered a lot of questions about him. He was more knowledgeable than his age allowed and often spoke with outdated words and phrases. I also found myself hoping I had his good genes and was able to look that good at his age.

I looked up as Dad handed me a plate and fork. His dimples appearing in a shy, sheepish fashion in an attempt to get me to speak.

“You didn’t tell me you got a job.” He replied, sitting down in his chair.

“I‘ve had it for two months.” I answered, sitting at the opposite end of the table. Then for his benefit I quickly added on, “And it’s only part time so it doesn‘t affect my school work.” I smiled. “Not that I have much anyways.” I joked.

Dad’s eyes softened, making him look pitiful. “I still don’t like you working during the school year. Don’t I give you enough money?”

“You do, Dad.” I argued in attempts to get that sad look off his face. “But I need to get out of this depressing house once in a while. I need this job, Dad.”

“Are you sure?” He pressed.

“My school work is better than ever, considering I only have electives this semester.” I plopped a spring roll onto my plate. “Besides, I’m using the money you give me to start up a college fund.”

I could see a twinkling smile in his eyes. “Well that’s very smart of you, Mackenzie.” He was overly proud of me, especially during moments like these.

Dad was one of the only people who called me by my first name instead of a silly nickname. I had several. My friends called me Mac, Kenny, KZ, MC, and a number of other things. I suppose I had my darling friend Scout to thank for that. She had started the whole nickname craze back in fifth grade and ever since then I’m never, ever called by Mackenzie. Unless someone is angry of course.

“When do you go to work again?” Dad asked between bites of his fried rice.

“Um…tomorrow.” I answered.

Dad stopped shoveling fried rice and looked up at me in shock and awe. “But it’s Saturday.”

“I know.” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. “But they need all the help they can get and I’m one of the few delivery people who actually work.” I grunted.

The place I worked at was a small collection of family owned business that, in recent years, had pulled together to form one industry that sold books, baked goods and other food, movies, games, appliances, and other such things. They called the place the Market. Not only that, they delivered, which was my job.

Also, I wasn‘t just working tomorrow because they needed me. I had a whole ulterior motive for wanting to work that day and working the one route everyone avoids on Saturday due to this very reason. Every Saturday a huge order of food, books, games, and everything and anything imaginable went out to a thought-to-be abandoned studio in the artist district downtown. And for the past month I had been working at the Market I had had to make a delivery to that building where I would be greeted by a voice through an intercom and two envelopes in the mailbox. One filled with the money to pay for the delivery and the other with a large tip for me. But it wasn’t the tip I was after.

The voice on the other end of the intercom was polite and nice, but I never learned his name, unlike with most people on my route, and I had never seen him. Since I already had an over active imagination it was going crazy at the prospects at what the intercom hid. I had already made up my mind to at least try and befriend the faceless voice, or at least learn his name.

Everyone at work had rumors about the place. There was one stipulating it was a crazy shut-in who was actually the second person on the grassy knoll, running since the assassination on JFK years and years ago. One was that it was what was left of Manson’s cult, in hiding until they receive word. Another, even more ridiculous idea was that it was a coven of vampires. Then again, a recent boom in the vampire craze had been going on so I chalked this up to the overactive imagination of fans.

While the first two could be considered plausible, although I doubted it, the voice sounded really young. And while I had never met the guy, he seemed sweet and nice, so I doubt he could be a killer at all. I could feel it in my gut that I was nowhere near harm standing there in front of his door.

The next day as I arrived at the Market I found one of my coworkers, and best friends, Dee Laughlin, sitting in the employee lounge sipping on a cup of hot tea. She looked up at me with her large hazel eyes and beamed.

“Good morning, Mac.” She greeted me cheerfully.

“Hey Dee.” I answered as I moved over to the snack machine to decide what to have for breakfast.

“Scout said she was going to be running late today.” Dee murmured, looking back briefly at her opened book before she shut it. “You know there’re same day old donuts and pastries in the bakery you can help yourself to.” She chose a job in the Market Bakery in order to loose weight. She said if she worked around the stuff long enough, she’d grow and aversion to it. Sure enough, she had, but in the process she had become addicted to the overly sweet coffees they also served.

“Nah.” I mused, placing a dollar bill into the machine. “I’m fine with this.”

“I just fixed some coffee too, so help yourself.” Dee mused as she looked dreamily back into her book.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just work in the bookstore instead of the bakery.” I chuckled, moving towards the coffee pot.

“I work in the bakery to have an aversion to pastries.” Dee laughed. “You know that. Besides, if I had a job in the bookstore, I’d never have any money. I have insurance and a car payments to think about.”

I nodded. “Well, what about Scout?” I asked as I poured my coffee into a yellow mug with a P on it. Scout loved the mug for this reason.

“Scout is a special case.” Dee muttered bitterly and snapped her book shut. “She rides her scooter everywhere she goes and with all the games and videos she buys she doesn’t have to go anywhere else.” She then watched me as I added creamer and sugar to my mug. “And what about you?”

I peered up from my brewing. “Me?”

“You’re Dad pays for everything and even gives you money for the week. Yet you’re working here.” Dee paused a moment to tie back her cropped, sandy hair into pigtails that jutted out from behind her ears.

“I work to get out of the house. I’m not like Scout in that department.” I breathed, taking a seat across from Dee at the table.

“And you deliver, the most brutal job to take! Why don’t you just stick to working in a specific station like Scout and I do?”

I told Dee everything. I enjoyed the deliveries and not having to stay in one place all day. I got to travel around and meet new people and see new places. I also got to drive, which I loved doing anyways. I got to drive in places, that during the right season, were straight from fairy tale lore. Doing the deliveries gave me a chance to escape the mundane life that had built up in the years of complacency I had gotten used to since the accident.

Dee nodded in approval. “To each his own.”

The door slammed open and a white blur whipped into the room followed by a cold gust and a bundled up Scout Theobald. After slamming the door back shut and shaking the freshly fallen snow from her shoulders, Scout peered out from between her hat and scarf  with her big blue eyes.

“It just started snowing like crazy for no apparent reason out there!” Scout blurted as she unwrapped herself from her thick jacket and scarf. She hung them on the coat rack and readjusted her beloved cap. She wore that hat religiously and she wore it proudly. She had received the hat from her favorite band’s guitarist when, in a moment of extreme ripping, had tossed his head so hard that the hat flung out into the crowd and into Scout’s eager fingers.

“You’re early.” Was all Dee and I could think to say to her.

Scout’s already thick bottom lip pouted out even further, looking like a slice of apple, as she frowned at us. “I saw this snow start up and decided to be early than never, or, God forbid, buried in that mess.” She peered out the window before she grabbed up a coffee mug. “I ain’t ever seen it snow this hard before.”

Dee and I both stood up to peer out the window. “You didn’t come here on your scooter did you?” Dee gasped, looking over her shoulder at Scout in awe and horror.

Scout shrugged, more snow falling from her curly, amber colored hair. “What else could I do?”  She took a deep sip of coffee.

“Take the bus.” I scoffed. “You could have gotten yourself killed in this weather!”

“It’s safer than a car.” Scout argued weakly but triumphantly. “The worst I could get is a cold.” She then laughed at the idea.

“Or pneumonia.” Dee snapped.

Dee and Scout had known each other longer than any two people should. They had grown up together, going through school in the same class since second grade. They had been together so long they could finish each other’s sentences. They sometimes even came into work wearing similar outfits. I was often jealous of how close they were. While I had met and befriended them in the fifth grade, at least seven years ago, I still felt like the third wheel. And even though they were my closest friends and confidants. I don’t think I have ever really had a best friend.

Scout pushed a stray hair out of her eyes then sat down at the table. “I never get sick.” She bragged proudly, putting on her Joan Crawford smug expression.

Dee and I sat down on the other end of her and decided not to argue with her. She had obviously survived the storm and like she said, she never got sick. She took a lot of personal days during the school year, but never once had she taken a day because of a cold or other illness.

“I’m glad I work in the bakery where it’s warm.” Dee breathed. “I know I’d probably die if I had to work in that weather.” Her and Scout then both glanced over at me. “Sorry Mac.”

“Sorry for what?” I asked. “They’ll probably make me work stock or cover a shift in a section today.” I turned back to the window. “There’s no way in hell they’re going to make us do deliveries today.” I turned back to my coffee and was struck by the realization of what I had just said. I wouldn’t be able to go to the studio today and try to make contact with whatever it was living behind those walls. I bit my lip and sighed disappointedly.

“Or they’ll just let you go home.” Scout grinned. “Or, you could take over my shift and I can go home.” If I had a younger sibling, I’d want them to be like Scout.

“Don’t be such a lazy mooch, Scout.” Dee scolded. “Although, it does sound tempting.” She sighed dreamily. “A hot cup of herbal tea, a good book, and the fire place. Oh, and my favorite tunes playing full blast in my new surround sound system. Sounds heavenly.” She cooed. “In more ways than one.” If I had an older sister, I’d want her to be like Dee.

“To you.” Scout sneered. “For me it’s a customized, wireless controller, bags of chips, cold sodas, the newest Slayers game, and a warm TV screen.” She took a deep sip of her coffee and added quickly. “All nestled snuggly in my bed and wrapped in several blankets.”

“Of course.” Dee snickered, wrinkling her nose. “If you had an opportunity like that, you’d never leave your home.” She glanced up at me and smiled. “What about you? What’s your dream wintry day in?”

“Well…” I thought for a moment. “I’d snuggle up on the couch with my favorite old blanket, pop in an old classic movie, then relax with a warm bowel of popcorn in my lap, a bag of chocolate chips at my right, and one of those huge jugs of chocolate milk on the floor.” I smiled dreamily at this thought. It had been a long time since I had a movie day.

Dee chuckled. “Classic literature, classic films, and…” She stared blankly at Scout. “Classic brain rotting.”

“Don’t dis it till you try it.” Scout swayed side to side, wagging her finger. She then glanced up at the clock. “Uh oh!” She finished off her coffee and jumped to her feet and strutted to the door. “Time to open shop.” She announced happily.

“You seem exuberant.” Dee mused.

Scout grinned goofily. “Of course! Today’s the release date of the new Vampire Hunter X game!” She gripped her fists close to her cheeks. “Innocent Blood the Second Dawning! I will literally be the first person to get their hands on it.”

“You enjoy that.” Dee sighed, patting Scout’s head as she left the lounge.

Scout turned to me before she left. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I’ll check my route and see what needs to be done. If there is anything serious I’ll get that done with. If not, I’ll tack it onto Monday’s shift.”

Scout nodded in agreement. “Just be real careful, Mac. If anything happened to you out there…”

I smiled softly. “Thanks Scout. I’ll be safe. Promise.”

Scout gave me another reassuring smile. “Alrighty then! Come see me anytime you want. We’ll lunch.” She then bounded out of the employee lounge and down the hall to her section of the Market.

I made my way slowly down to the delivery room. As I suspected, no one was there. All the other delivery boys must have seen the snow and said to heck with it all. I lifted up the delivery roster for my route. Sure enough, the studio’s order was on there. I checked the delivery number and found the box. There was a post-it on the front that told me to get the new game Scout had been rambling about earlier.

I’d get the game then head out to make the delivery then head home for a much needed movie date. I’d even make quick lunch plans with Scout.

I took the box with me to the gaming section of the market. Scout was surprised to see me after such a small break from one another and she happily got me the game. We made plans for lunch at noon, if weather permitted, at Dee’s bakery so we could get a discount.

I went out into the snow and wind, barely making it to my delivery car unfrozen. I was also surprised at how clear the roads were. They had probably salted them early that morning while Dee, Scout, and I had been talking.

I slowly made my way to the artist district, leery of black ice. The sky around the many studios and galleries was a dark gray from smoke billowing chimneystacks. It reminded me of a scene in an old movie depicting a very primal, coming-of-age city.

I parked out front of the old studio. As I approached the front steps, I noticed there was no smoke coming from the chimney. Perhaps the person who lived here was rich, considering how much he spent each week at the Market.

I pressed the buzzer and waited.

“Hello?”

I licked my lips and took a quick breath. “The Market Delivery. Mackenzie Bronwyn delivering.”

“Oh wow! You actually came!” He laughed. “Aw gee…I didn’t think you would be coming. Um…I didn’t put the money in the mailbox. Uh…” He stalled for a moment and I thought I heard people arguing and running around in the background.

“Uh, hold on one moment. The door is unlocked. You can come in and warm up while we get your money together.” There was a loud, stunning buzzing noise and a loud click. The doorknob turned ever so slightly.

I was so surprised I was actually frozen. Forgive the pun.

“Y-yeah. Thank you.” I turned my attention to the steely, icy doorknob. I swallowed hard and reached for it. Ice shattered as I turned the knob and pushed myself in. The door groaned lowly, like someone disappointed.

I stepped inside the large entrance hall, it was dark, but cozy and warm. I closed the door behind me and stood in the darkness. I dumped the box off the handcart and noticed I was breathing loudly. It was better than I expected. Not only did I get to have a few words with him, I was inside the studio. And from the sounds over the intercom, he wasn’t alone.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could notice some of the details in the hallway.

To my left I was a little surprised to see a shattered mirror. I bit my lip and turned away from it. I wasn’t sure to take it as a sign or as a piece of modern artwork. I decided to pay more attention to the right side of the hallway, which was a large white wall covered with crayon drawings and other random artistic scribbles. Certain sections were dated and signed even. I leaned closer and ran my hand over it, barely making out the signature of Dakota.

There were three other distinct signatures on the wall but I couldn’t make out the names in the dim light. I ran my fingers across the indention of one name, trying to decipher it.

“Here’s your money.”

I gasped, jumping at the sound of his voice. I gasped and caught my breath. “Gee! You scared me.” I chuckled, scanning the darkness to try and find where the voice had come from.

“So sorry.” He laughed. “Um, here.” Two white envelopes came out of the darkness towards me. Beyond them I saw a pale, moonlight hand and arm. “You can leave the box there if you wish.”

I knelt forward and plucked the envelopes from his fingers. As soon as I did, the moonlight pale hand vanished. I studied the envelopes quietly then looked back up into the darkness. I heard something shifting as if impatient for me to leave. I opened up one of the envelopes to make sure the balance was correct.

“Just get out of here!” A voice I didn’t recognize roared out at me.

I jumped and dropped the handcart. I rushed to pick it back up and once I had a grip on it I ran back out into the white snow. I stood there at the door, wondering what had made me move so fast. I pressed my palm against my face and ran my fingers limply through my hair. I barely glanced over my shoulder at the door, afraid I might see someone or something standing there.

The intercom buzzed and I jumped again. Clutching my heart I quietly answered.

“Yes?” I gasped.

“Sorry about that.” The familiar voice said. “He’s, uh, unfriendly.”

That barely answered one of my questions. There was more than one person living in the old studio. I turned to face the intercom, unsure if I should say anything to the familiar voice beyond the door. I furrowed my brow.

“It’s okay. I was intruding.” I answered meekly. “Thank you for your continued business.” I waved, even though I knew they probably couldn’t see me.

I quietly turned back to my snow covered car. And as I drove home I began to wonder more and more about the people living within the studio. Hidden away from the public eye in a giant safe. Were they a family? Friends? How many were living there? Why were they living there? All the possibilities built up around me like walls, forbidding me to think about anything else.

Chapter Two: Like a Dream

The snowstorm didn’t stop until late Sunday night. And even then the snow stayed piled up until next Saturday due to continuous light flurries and snowfalls that occurred throughout the week.

The snow was thick everywhere, except on the roads and where people had shoveled it away, But where it still stood, like on our lawn, when you stood on it, you could detect three distinct layers. The top layer was soft and powdery, the fresh snow. The second layer was the kind of snow you’d want to use to build snowmen, for snowballs, and typical winter fun. Then, the bottom layer was thickly packed ice that probably wouldn’t disappear until spring, or, if you used a jackhammer on it.

Other than that it was safe to drive on the roads because they salted it constantly. School had only been canceled three days that week and I had to work double duty in the Market. I did my deliveries then worked in whatever section of the store that needed my help. A lot of people took any excuse to be able to take off work, especially during such heavy, snowy weather.

On Saturday it had finally gotten back to a place of normalcy where I was back to being just a delivery girl. I received my delivery roster for my route and our supervisor told us that once we finished our routes we could head on home. He said his knees were hurting him and that meant another snowstorm.

I didn’t trust his knees, but I did trust the clouds enveloped sky and the way the clouds shaped together like a package of frozen cotton swabs. And it was also as if I could smell the bad weather coming on. In a way, it was the same as the day of the accident, something just didn’t feel right.

After examining my roster and the clouds I jumped into my car loaded with packages. There was an especially huge package that took up half my back seat that was headed for the studio. It was their largest one thus far.

I delivered all the other packages first then ended my route with the artist district and the old studio. I had to pull out my trolley cart to lift the giant box. It felt like one of the boxes in Dee’s room filled to the gills with thick books.

I left the handcart at the foot of the stairs and walked up to the intercom. I pressed the buzzer and waited a moment. There was no answer. I stared puzzled at the mesh screen of the intercom and pressed the buzzer again.

Still no answer.

I decided to examine the mailbox. Perhaps they had left me a note along with the payment. I pulled out the envelopes, but no note. I pressed the buzzer again. Still there was no one to answer me.

I pulled my scarf tighter around my jaw and neck as a cold breeze floated around me. I waited for a few more minuets then descended down the stairs and went to try and heft the box onto the stoop.

It was times like these I wished Scout was around. She possessed an amazing upper body strength. I had often heard her bragging that she could lift a little over twice her body weight.

As I managed to figure out a way to balance the huge box in my arms I felt a presence around me. I glanced up to see three rough looking guys standing around me. I gave them a cordial smile then went back to work, hoping they either go away or ask to help.

I wasn’t so lucky.

One of them grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. I was able to keep myself from being pulled into their crowd by pushing against the heavy box. With a hard kick I was able to make the box flip over and disorient the gang if only for a moment.

I ran, dashing into the alley between the studio and the tenement building beside it. I heard them chasing after me so I ran faster. I pushed myself out of the small wedge between the buildings and popped out in the back yard of the studio.

The small yard was littered with rusted exercise equipment, several bent and destroyed trashcans, and stacks and stacks of folded up cardboard boxes from the Market. I heard the gang behind me and I raced forward, praying someone inside would also hear them and come out to see what the noise was about.

The ground stopped suddenly, crumbling into a huge ravine where the sewer line ran for the artist district. I looked this way and that. I stared up at the windows of the studio. All the windows were closed and covered. I ran up to the backdoor and started poudning on it and screaming

“Let me in! Let me in! Please! Someone! Help me!” There was no sound from inside, no sign of life at all. I cursed and raced for the chain link fence separating the properties. Just as I was making way over the top I was pulled back down onto the icy ground. I foot came down against my temple and for a moment everything was black.

Just as they were forcing me deeper into the snow I heard one of them scream and I slowly came back to my senses. Their release on me became looser until none of their hands were even on me. I sat up from the snow to see a black shadow bashing one of the thugs across the head with what looked like a rusted free-weight bar. I winced, relieved someone came to my rescue, but afraid I had only gotten rescued by an even more dangerous animal.

The shadow kicked at a downed thug then turned to stare at me through the visor of his helmet. He was dressed from head to foot in black leather, every inch of his skin hidden away under a thick skin of shining black. He had large shoulders and a muscular chest. His arms were twice the size of mine and I could see the ripples from the muscles even under the leather. His hands were big but thin with long fingers, his right hand still clutching onto the rusted bar. His waist was slender and he had long, muscular legs.

He walked towards me and pulled me out of the snow by my shoulders. His head bobbed up and down, inspecting me.

“You okay?” He asked gruffly.

I felt like crying but something held me back. “Y-yeah.” I sputtered. I had half expected it to be the voice over the intercom. But I was wrong and disappointed and I suddenly started crying.

“Tha-thank you so much!” I balled.

His hand came down on top of my head and ruffled my hair. “Stop crying.” He huffed, sounding a little impatient. “You’re bleeding so you better get home.” He wiped a little blood away from my temple then rubbed his thumb against his pants.

I rubbed my eyes. “Bu-but…”

“Hurry up and get home.” He pointed in the direction of the alley. “Ya hear me?” He half threatened me with the bar. “Get!” He shoved me forward with his hand then prodded my back with the bar.

I wanted to turn around and thank him again, but I was too frazzled to even breathe. Only until I had gotten in my car and lost sight of the studio did I breathe again. I pulled my car over to stop and compose myself. As I did so I saw a red motorcycle fly by with a man covered in leather riding on the back. I was so relieved I smiled. Although, I had never expected my guardian angel to be a leather clad biker.

When I got home, hoping I could take care of the cut on my head before Dad saw, I was horrified to see Dad standing in the kitchen making coffee. He was smiling when I came in but that faded away with an instant and he magically produced the first aid kit and was rushing me to sit at the table.

“My God, Mackenzie! What happened to you?” He tied my wavy black hair back for me in a ponytail, then poured some rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab.

What could I tell him? I had to think up a believable story fast.

“I was making a delivery and slipped on some ice.” I laughed.

He wiped the swab over the cut and I hissed. Nothing stung like that. “Oh my poor girl.” He whispered, then putting some disinfectant on it. “Did anyone help you?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Someone helped me.”

“That’s good.” Dad then put some Neosporin on the cut and a little band-aid. “Where did you fall at?” He asked, putting the kit away.

“Um…the artist district, in front of the old studio.”

Dad furrowed his brow and looked at me as if he wanted to ask me something then he went back to placing the first-air kit back in the cabinet above the stove.

“Well I’m just glad you’re safe.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Please be more careful next time. Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay, Dad.” I then smiled reassuringly for his benefit.

“Oh!” I then quickly changed subject. “Would it be okay if I spent the night with Scout and Dee tomorrow?”

“That’s fine with me. But you girls be careful in this weather, okay?”

The next day, Sunday, I went back to the studio. I carried with me a gift of thanks for the man clad in leather, hoping he was a tenant at the studio. As I had made my way to the studio a thick snowstorm had blown up and by the time I had gotten there, I couldn’t see barely five feet ahead of me. Everything thing was white and swirling like a snow globe with too much glitter inside.

I raced through the snow, pressing against the wind as if it were a wall and finally I came up on the stoop where I was a little safer from the icy elements, but just barely. I pressed the buzzer, praying they would answer inside.

“Hello?” The voice sounded quizzical.

“Hi, it’s me.” I rasped. “Mackenzie. Mackenzie Bronwyn” I blurted. “Listen I hate to bother you but I came by with a gift for the guy who saved me yesterday.”

I was equally surprised to hear him blurt back at me. “What are you doing out here? You could have gotten yourself killed in this weather. Yes! Come on! Come in!” He sounded both angry yet concerned for me. The door made the loud buzzing and it was kicked open from inside.

As I walked back into the warm hallway I heard an angry wind howling out behind me and slam the door against my back. I squeezed the gift close to my chest and held in my scream. My eyes locked on the broken mirror, many eyes looked back at me.

I waited for what seemed like hours there in the entranceway for someone to great me. Finally I heard someone approach then stop suddenly beyond the line of darkness.

“Are you warm enough?” He struck a match and lit and candle. In the glow of it I just barely made out his soft features. He was young, a little older than me but still young. He had soft, white skin and dark hair.

“Yes, thank you.” I looked down at my gift and held it out at arms length. “I don’t know if he lives here or not but I just wanted to thank the guy who saved me yesterday.”

“That’s very kind of you.” He breathed softly. “Um…listen, Mackenzie…” His voice cracked. “Our power is out, and, um, I don’t know when it’ll it come back on. I’ll give you some matches and candles if you want them.

“If I have to I suppose…” I held my arms back to my chest. “Is the snowstorm that bad?”

“Something like that.” He murmured. “I made up a room for you that you can stay in until the storm clears up. Is that alright?”

I felt oddly at home yet unwelcome at the same time. “That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” I swallowed. “I’m sorry I intruded like this. I never expected to the weather to get this bad this quickly.”

“It’s alright just come this-”

“No way!” Another voice blurted. “She can’t stay here. You!” The new and angry voice roared at me. “You need to go!” I barely made him out in the candlelight. His brow was heavy and creased, his face covered with stubble.

“Dude! Don’t be so cruel.” The first voice snapped. “It isn’t safe out there for her to drive.”

“Well we can’t keep her here.” The second voice sneered.

“You don’t have to worry about her.” The first voice whispered. They probably thought I couldn’t hear them. But ever since I was a little child, I could always hear the faintest of noises. I was rather proud of my unnatural hearing ability.

Well, right now I felt rather uneasy over hearing this odd conversation. I was an outsider who could possibly be in on a deep secret the tenants of this old studio hadn’t let out to anyone except themselves. I swallowed hard. I wanted to leave then and there to stop their fighting. But outside the wind was getting louder and louder, and the sound of ice beating against the door was growing from faint, tiny tinks to the sound of loud knocking.

Finally, the second voice roared. “Fine! But don’t come crying to me when she sees you and goes running away screaming!” He stormed off and I heard a door slam and something shatter.

“Um…Mackenzie?” The first voice murmured. “Can you see well enough in this light? Or would you like the candle?”

“Yeah, I can see fine. I don‘t need the candle” I gulped. “I hope I’m not intruding or anything.”

“Not at all.” He laughed softly. “My name is Vegas.” I heard his hand slide across the wall. “You know. It’s funny really. Ever since you became our delivery girl I had this feeling about you.”

“Excuse me?” His words made my insides jump. I suddenly felt scared.

“Well, you know how you sometimes have this sixth sense about a person who one day winds up being your closest friend?” Vegas asked. “That’s kind of what I meant. Sorry if I scared you.”

“Oh.” I chuckled meekly. “Sure, sure.” I didn’t have the guts to tell him that I felt the very same way.

I heard a door click open and a ray of grayish light poured into the hallway. I also had a feeling that Vegas was hiding himself behind the door.

“Here you go.” He handed me the candle. “If you need anything use the intercom and call for me.” He said as I stepped into the room. “I’ll bring you lunch later.”

I suddenly remembered my thank you gift and held it out towards the shadows of the hall. “You take it.” I instructed. “You’re being much to kind to me.” I then quickly tacked on, “Its pie. I made it, so I can’t say if its good or not.”

I heard the paper bag rustle as he opened it up. “What flavor is it?”

I beamed and wanted to go back out into the hallway. “Apple. I learned how to make them when I did a temp job in the bakery at the Market a few weeks ago. I hope you like it.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Vegas chuckled.

I smiled and turned into the dimly lit room, closing the door behind me. Hoping for a miracle, I felt along the wall for a light switch. A single skylight flickered on, but it was so weak it was barely better than the glow of the candlelight. I opened the curtains to my window and stared out at the snowstorm. Everything was white, but at least it allowed more light into the room.

I stared around, only now noticing that all four walls were made up of shelves filled with books, comics, movies, and magazines. I had never seen such a massive collection in person before. All I could do was standing there and stare around.

I then got the courage to actually touch something. I pulled a book from the shelf and flipped it open. I then looked to the pile of blankets and pillows sitting by the door  and laid them out on the rug in the middle of the room.

I then picked me out a stack of books and magazines and curled myself down to read. But all I could do for the longest time was stare off into space and daydream. I was inside the studio, and I couldn’t have been more breath taken. But at the same time I trapped there, almost a prisoner. In a way, I was like a prisoner in a tower. Like Beauty from Beauty and the Beast, my favorite story and fairy tale.

Chapter Three: Life on Mars?

I had fallen asleep while reading, a common side effect for me. Although I was no longer on the big rug in the center of the floor, but lounged up comfortably on the large couch resting under the canopy of a bookshelf. I pushed the thick blanket off the top of me and stared at the clock sitting on the table beside me. It was a little passed five.

I figured Dad wasn’t worried, since I lied and told him I was spending the night at Scout’s house. More than likely he was holed up in his lab and unable to get out because of the storm. I then remembered Vegas and I saw the covered dish sitting on the table right beside the alarm clock. That explained how I ended up on the couch and it made me feel embarrassed but also impressed and flattered. Vegas was either a great gentleman or an even greater pretender.

It was then to my great dismay that I needed to use the bathroom. I had no idea where to begin. So when I blindly made my way out into the hallway I simply prayed for the best. I feel into a long, narrow hallway, but it creped me out so bad I didn’t try to find the door at the end. After a few more minuets of searching I suddenly stumbled into an open door and crashed onto the floor.

“Mackenzie?” Vegas gasped.

“Oh! So sorry.” I grunted as I lifted myself off of the carpet. “I was just…” I held my head. “The bathroom.” I muttered just above barely audible.

Vegas helped lift me up and placed me in a chair. “You okay?” He quickly stepped away from me and back into the shadows.

“Disoriented.” I managed to laugh. “Sorry again for falling into your room like that.” I tried to make out his silhouette in the dark in vain.

“It’s okay. I’m kind of glad you showed up.” I heard him stand up and walk back towards his door. “I had a talk with my brothers and we felt like you shouldn’t be kept in the dark like this.” The way he said you bothered me a little. It was like I was supposed to be in on the secret yet had no idea about it.

“But you said your power was out.” I chuckled nervously.

Vegas laughed softly. “If only it were that simple.” He took a deep breath. “I do hope you have an open mind about things.” He spoke softly and I could hear him moving about in the darkness. “I also pray you don’t scare easy. Here, take my hand.”

I reached up blindly in the darkness, finally touching something solid and warm. But it wasn’t what I was expecting. The palm of his hand was rough, like the calloused heel of a foot. The back of his hand was soft and furry and reminded me of Dee’s old Labrador. I looked up, trying to follow his arm and figure out this strange puzzle.

“Do I have your hand?” I asked, confused.

He half laughed, half sighed. “Yes. You have it.” He said as he helped me ease back up to my feet.

There was a click and fluorescent lights blinded me. I stared between my fingers at the oddly shaped figure standing a few feet before me at his open door.

“I am truly sorry if this bothers you.” Vegas murmured.

As my eyes became accustomed to the light I slowly became aware of the figure standing before me. I noticed that his outline was odd, rather shaggy. I rubbed my eyes, hoping the blur would take a much finer shape.

I became aware of pointed ears, jutting out from where ears normally were but to a length that they surpassed the head like an animal’s. And the shagginess didn’t stop at the head, it was as if his entire body was covered with thick, dark fur. But how could that be? When I saw him in the glow of the candlelight he had a milky white complexion and hair like a sheet if black satin.

I first stared down at the hand I was holding. The rough palm, in fact, looked like the underside of a dog’s paw. And while shaped like any normal hand, it looked like I was holding some Halloween glove for a Wolfman costume. My eyes trailed up the arm, growing wider the further up I stared. There I was, standing before a man-animal. At first, I thought of a werewolf. But the more I looked at him I didn‘t see a horror movie monster. His green eyes were certainly human, more human than even my own. But he was definitely not human. I recoiled and took several steps away. I wasn’t afraid, but I was shocked. His hand hung suspended in midair.

“Sorry. Again.” Vegas whispered, his hand falling back to his side. “If you don’t like it. We can all leave you be until the storm is over and you can leave.”

I suddenly found myself touching his outstretched arm. My hands worked up the shaggy black fur of his arm and onto his face, both my hands pinching his cheeks.

“Am I dreaming?” I muttered breathlessly.

“I believe you pinch yourself when you feel that way.” Vegas chuckled, a little surprised at my reaction.

I pulled my hands back. “Oops!”

Vegas rubbed his face where I had pinched him. “Quite alright.”

“How did this happen to you?” I asked, reaching out again and brushing my fingers through his shaggy, shiny mane. “How come you…“ I hesitated, trying not to think along the lines of horror movies. “Are you circus freaks?” My voice squeaked.

Vegas shook his head glumly. “I wish it were that simple, Mackenzie. But I’m afraid our tale is a bit more complicated.” He shrugged.

“How many more of you are there?” I asked, following Vegas down the now brightened hallway.

Vegas opened a door for me. “Didn’t you need to use the restroom?”

“Um…” I glanced over at him and blushed. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

“I’ll wait out here for you.” He said, turning his head away as I walked into the bathroom. I hurried myself as much as I could, but as I sat there I couldn’t help but feel I recognized Vegas from somewhere. His form, his shape, his eyes all seemed familiar to me.

I then went back out into the hallway and looked up at him, standing like a guard on the left side of the door. “I’m good now.”

He nodded and waved his hand for me to follow.

“So?” I asked again. “How many?”

“Four. My four brothers and me. You kinda met Lexington.” He spoke about the second, much angrier, voice in the hallway last night. “Sorry about him.”

“No need to apologize.” I examined Vegas closer. I now noticed that he wore some straight leg blue jeans and a red vintage tee shirt bearing a classic band’s logo on the front. “I can see why he was…hesitant.”

“Hesitant is a soft word to use for his actions.” Vegas breathed. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family. You woke up in time for dinner.” He hesitated and glanced over my expression. “Only if you want to.”

“I think I owe it to you.” I said brightly. “I’ve seen you, I might as well see the rest of the family secret. After all…” I took a deep breath. “You were brave enough to reveal this to me.”

Vegas smiled. “I knew I was right about you.”

I couldn’t help but smile back.

It was funny how his face worked. While being wolf like in every sense, he had a very human face, especially around the eyes. His eyes were the deepest forest green, like my mother’s and brother’s eyes had been.

He then had a cute little muzzle, not exactly as long as a wolf’s but enough to protrude from his face. If he were bigger and hulked over, he would be exactly as I pictured the Beast from my favorite fairy tale. That’s where I recognized him!

It was then I also noticed his body shape. I suppose it was because I wanted to figure out who the leather-clad biker had been. But Vegas didn’t fit the bill. He had small shoulders and lean, but muscular, arms. He also had a thicker waist and longer legs. I was slightly disappointed.

Vegas glanced over his shoulder at me. “You’re quiet back there.”

“S-sorry! Just lost in thought.” I caught up to Vegas so I walked beside him. I could feel the fur on his arm against my own. Vegas was also quite tall and my head barely cleared his shoulder blade.

Vegas then pushed open a door and allowed me to step in first. The room became intensely quiet. I stared up at two more wolf-like boys. They were sitting at a bar on high stools. One had his back turned toward me and the other was staring wide eyed and worriedly at me.

“Guys, this is Mackenzie.” Vegas patted my back. “She’s going to be staying with us for a while.” He said cheerfully as we walked into the dining room.

I felt suddenly at ease. I raised up my hand and scrunched my fingers down in my cute, signature wave. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

The one who had been staring at me was now grinning and leaping over the bar to greet me. “She likes us!” He was small, about my height, and extremely skinny. Unlike Vegas, he was a reddish brown with a white face, paws, stomach, and feet. He wore a black shirt with a video game logo on it and extremely baggy pajama pants. His tail wagged happily as he ran up to me and his bright hazel eyes sparkled.

“Delivery girl!” He reached his hand out and I took it in my instinctively, suddenly feeling nostalgic in doing so. “I’m so glad to finally meet ya in person!” His thin arms then wrapped around me and squeezed me tightly. He smelled like chocolate and his fur was so soft. He then pulled away and gave me a big, toothy grin. “I’m Dakota by the way. I guess I should introduce myself before I go around hugging people.” He laughed.

“Make that a note next time you go out.” I chuckled with him, feeling extremely welcomed by the cub of the pack.

I then glanced up over Dakota’s shoulder to see the third wolf approach. He was slightly taller than me, the top of my head could easily reach the bottom of his chin. He was a peppered gray with a white muzzle, a black paw and a white paw, then both feet were black. He wore glasses before his narrow, sky blue eyes. His mane was thicker around his face than Dakota’s and Vegas’. His hands were also larger even though he had about as skinny arms as Dakota. He had a shapely rear though and well toned legs. I also noticed he wore a button up blue polo shirt and tan cargo pants with bulging pockets.

He smiled politely and held his white paw out to me. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m Raleigh.”

I managed to pull my hands away from the gleeful Dakota to shake Raleigh’s thick hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.”

“We should be thanking you.” Raleigh smiled at me with a wise glint in his eyes.

“Yeah! You bring us our supplies every week. I don’t know what I’d do with out my weekly game dosage.” Dakota cheered. “Doc was right about the Market.”

“Doc?” I was about to question but Vegas cut in.

“Yeah, before the Market we used to have to order from fifty other places and the shipping was eating up all our monthly funds.” Vegas then cut a glare at Dakota who had latched hold on my hand again. “Especially those video games and anime cartoons you love so much.”

Dakota shrunk back behind me. “I know, I know.” He sighed pathetically. “Crack would be a cheaper addiction, but my body is a sacred temple.”

“So you’re the gamer.” I asked as I joined them at the bar. “My best friend Scout works in the entertainment section of the Market and she’s a huge gamer as well. Every game I’ve delivered to you she’s gotten herself.”

Dakota’s already bright eyes got even brighter and wider. “Really?” He squirmed in his seat. “I just got the new Vampire Hunter X game and I’m almost half way through.”

“I don’t get what’s so great about video games.” Raleigh sighed. “I keep telling him he can get just as much fun and excitement if head read something other than strategy guides and comic books.”

I knew who always ordered the books. “So then I take it you’re the one who orders the brunt of most of the heavy novels that have been breaking my back.” I chuckled, thinking to the previous package and how I needed the special dolly to deliver it. “The real intelligent gent?”

Raleigh sighed and took off his glasses. “Someone has to be.” He had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. “I guess I need to apologize for that as well. I suppose I could order the paperbacks and be a little more gentler on you. But the hardbacks just last so much longer.”

There was a familiar buzzing that rang out through the house and the boys lifted their heads in anticipation. Vegas stood up from the bar.

“That’s probably the pizza.” He said. “I’ll be right back.” As he walked towards the door he stopped at the door and scanned the sheet of pockets that hung there and plucked what looked like a checkbook from one of the many pockets.

“Are the roads clear?” I asked.

“Not really.” Dakota hummed. “But we have connections. We get whatever we want whenever we want it.” He said, grinning proudly.

“Don’t worry, Mac, we aren’t holding you here against your will. You can go whenever you want.” Raleigh said in a very serious tone. “But I wouldn’t recommended it right now.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I wasn’t thinking that. It was just surprising to me that pizza would actually deliver in ice age weather.”

Raleigh cleared his throat then removed his glasses and rubbed at the lenses with the hem of his shirt. “Oh, um, well, I was just letting you know.”

“Yeah!” Dakota chimed. “Mac probably doesn’t even wanna leave.” He grinned over at me. “Right?”

In all honesty, I did want to go home. I was really worried about Dad. But I couldn‘t tell that to Dakota, it‘d probably break his heart. “Probably not for a while.”

“Here’s the grub.” Vegas said, hauling in six pizzas, three boxes of breadsticks, and two dessert pizzas.

I stared in awe at the massive amount of pizza. “Do you always eat all this?” I gasped, staring at Dakota for the answer.

“Naw!” Dakota laughed. “We got this one for you.” He placed a whole pizza in front of me.

“I can’t eat all that.” I murmured apologetically, staring at the box.

“Really?” Dakota stared at me in disbelief. “I guess you were right Raleigh. Women really are more delicate.”

Raleigh tensed up and I’m sure if the fur wasn’t covering his cheeks they’d be bright red. “Dakota, just shut up.” He huffed and hid himself behind his box of pizza.

I smiled meekly. “Thank you very much for this. I really do appreciate the thought. You can have what I don’t eat.”

Dakota grinned another toothy grin, cheese stringing down from his jowls to the slice in his hand. “Okay!”

“What about Lex?” Raleigh asked.

“If he wants to eat he can join us.” Vegas growled.

I furrowed my brow and sat down the piece of pizza I had been chewing on. “Am I causing some sort of trouble I should know about?”

“Huh?” Raleigh gasped. “Oh no, you’re fine. It’s our other brother, Lexington. He’s being a complete jerk as usual.”

“The correct term is ass hole.” Dakota said between bites.

Vegas leered harshly down at his pizza. “He’s the one being a problem. He says that he doesn’t want you here. He wants us to make to make you leave.”

“Does he know I’m not bothered?” I asked. “I think you’re all fine! When you said all those things earlier, Vegas, I thought the worst. Like you were a coven of famous serial killers or something.”

All three of them snickered and Dakota went into a fit of high-pitched giggles. He had to drop his pizza and control a spasm of hiccups.

“Do you mind my asking why our appearance doesn’t offend you?” Raleigh asked, politely.

I shrugged, slightly embarrassed to give my answer. “Growing up I was obsessed with Beauty and the Beast.” I laughed, avoiding all of their reactions. “I know that may seem extremely silly but I think that might be the main reason.” I glanced up at each of their interested looks. I smiled meekly. “But I doubt that falling in love with you would undo this.” I meant his as a joke, but I had the sudden pain that said it was much more serious than that.To them, it actually meant something.

“So…” I muttered quietly and put on a forced smile. “That’s my silly reason.”

“I see.” Raleigh nodded.

After that, the rest of dinner was extremely quiet. I only ate three pieces of pizza and let the others pick at it. When all was said and done Dakota dragged to his room, which reminded me of how I last saw Scout’s room. There was a bunk bed against the wall with the door and across from it a huge entertainment system with a wide screen TV, several game systems, a DVD player and a fancy music system. Then, on a desk put right up to the bottom bunk was a laptop, speakers, and several game controllers. His walls were painted red and covered with movie posters, magazine clippings, and photographs. His floor was littered with his clothes, trash, and dirty dishes.

He had what I thought was a closet in the farthest corner of the room, but when he opened it up I was surprised to see row upon row of video games and cartoon show DVDs. I found myself thinking how completely opposite this home was from my very own, and I was surprised to be extremely jealous.

“Whoa.” I mouthed, staring up into the store like assortment.

“Yeah I know.” Dakota giggled. “Do you have a preference?” He asked. Then, upon seeing my confused stare, grinned. “What kind of games do you like?”

“Uh…Mrs. Pac-Man?” I muttered.

Dakota scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll play this one.” He waved a fighter game before me then popped into the corresponding gaming system.

We played that for a few hours until Dakota started yawning loudly. He switched out the game for a cartoon and he curled up beside me on the bed. He fell asleep halfway through the movie, his head resting in my lap and my hand stroking his fur.

When I was sure he was dead asleep I moved him off my lap and covered him up. I turned off all his appliances and lights then exited the room quietly.

“Dakota asleep?” I heard Raleigh call from across the hall. His room was opposite of Dakota’s and I could look into his room as I turned around.

“Out like a light.” I chuckled. I leaned in his doorway and stared around at all the books. It was a little bit bigger than Dee’s own boxed collection. He had two walls of bookshelves, but they went from floor to ceiling and there were several smaller bookshelves cradled into corners. His walls were blue and he had a futon bed positioned between two corner shelves. He had a door on one of the clear walls that was cracked open and I could barely see his neatly organized closet inside.

“The radio said the storm is probably going to last another two or three days.” Raleigh said, looking at the radio sitting by his bed. “Do you think you’ll be fine staying here for that long?” He removed his glasses and sat them on his side table.

I could see the worry in Raleigh’s eyes and it reminded me of my father. “I’ll be fine.” I folded my arms across my chest. “It’s my dad I’m worried about.”

“Well…the phone lines are down. But I do believe Vegas has gone to leave your father a note.” Raleigh murmured.

“What?” I gasped, early tripping over thin air. “He’s gone to my house?”

“Yeah.” Raleigh seemed uncomfortable, like he had just released top-secret information. “He was worried about your father too. I mean, with you not being at the house and all.”

“Oh.” I bit my lip. “That was nice of him to worry.”

“Well, in my opinion, I think he likes having someone other than the rest of us to worry about.” Raleigh said as he stood up and walked towards me at the door. “We’ve been alone in this house for about six years.” He smiled. “I guess we just got boring to him.”

I nodded. “I suppose that it would get boring for anybody for that long.” I glanced over my shoulder, thinking I heard something moving at the end of the hallway. “Where did you guys move from?” I asked, looking back up at Raleigh.

“Somewhere…” He hesitated and looked away for a moment. “Somewhere very unpleasant.”

“Oh.”

“No.” He defended. “Don’t think that we don’t want you to know. I think you should know everything. But for now Vegas wants to give you time. It’s hard to explain. But trust us.”

“No. It’s okay. I owe you guys big time. No need to explain to me.” I chuckled. “I mean, yes, I would love to know. But it understand that it must be a hard thing to talk about. You guys took a big risk even showing yourselves to me.”

Raleigh smiled softly. “Do you know what an amazing person you are?” He asked. “For some reason, it’s easy around you.”

I wanted to ask him about what he meant but his head jerked upward and looked down the hallway.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Someone is home.” He muttered then looked back down at me. “Anyways, I need to get to bed.” He laughed. “If I don’t get more than eight hours of sleep I become psychotic.” His smile then faded. “Not that I don’t like talking to you!”

I shook my head. “It‘s okay. I’m gonna head on to bed too.” I reached out and patted his arm. “Good night.” I chuckled and walked down the hall.

“Good night.” I heard Raleigh echo as I made my way down the hallway.

As I passed the kitchen I heard someone moving about. I, of course, thought it was Vegas. I popped into the kitchen and sat at the bar casually. There was a box of pizza sitting open on the counter along with a glass filled with ice. I looked to the fridge, but I couldn’t see Vegas from the open door and the bright lights inside.

“Hey Vegas.” I called to him, making my presence known. “Raleigh told me you went to my house to give my dad a letter.” I said and looked at the open box of pizza, remembering Vegas had eaten a whole one plus half of mine then a box of breadsticks and half a desert pizza as well. “You didn’t need to do that.”

The fridge door closed and the wolf that stood before me was russet colored and much bigger. My jaw dropped and my breath caught inside my throat. There was no doubt in my mind that the wolf before me was the infamous Lexington.

His silver eyes narrowed upon me and he didn’t move from his spot before the fridge. I was welded to the spot as well. I felt terrified, remembering what the others had been saying during dinner. He was certainly intimidating by appearance alone.

I swallowed my heart back down into my chest and gasped for air. “H-hi there.” Which was perhaps the stupidest thing to say at this moment. I wanted tog et up and run away, but I felt that if I did, it would only make my situation worse.

Lexington was even taller than Vegas and stronger built to boot. He had broad shoulders and thick arms to match. His chest heaved in anger and his lips curled up over his fangs. His fur was a rusty brown and grew longer and wilder against the back of his head. His ears were longer too and jutted out like daggers from his head. He wore no shirt over his muscular chest but he wore a pair of ripped and faded blue jeans that smelled strongly of grease and gasoline.

I managed to catch my breath from the shock and I cleared my throat. “H-hi!” I sputtered out again. “I’m Mackenzie. You must be…” I hesitated, watching as he closed the fridge and push passed me like I was a spider dangling from the ceiling.

“Y-you’re Lexington, right?” I asked after him.

He turned and looked down at me from the other side of the island. I could see the contempt in his eyes as he leered at me. He tossed his head to the side and reached over the countertop of the island, lifting up the box of pizza. As he leaned over the island I noticed how slim his waist was and how long his legs were. I stared up at him as he sat upright again. Our eyes met and he stopped suddenly.

His eyes looked like mirrors, reflecting everything in their silvery surface. I couldn’t look away, knowing his gaze was meant to terrify me to my core.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He snarled.

“I-I was…the storm…” I stuttered.

“I meant here in the kitchen.” He snarled, ripping his teeth through the pizza like he wanted me to think he would do the same to me.

“Oh! Um…I thought you were Vegas and…” I swallowed. “I don’t know.” I muttered apologetically. As I said this he got up and moved towards the cupboards behind me.

“But I feel like if I leave I’ll, well, I’ll stay on your bad side.” I looked up at him, his back turned to me. “And I’d like to be your friend.”

Lexington turned back around and rolled his eyes at me. He pointed a long finger in my face. “You don’t belong here. You shouldn’t have even been allowed through the front door!” He barked and grabbed onto my arm.

“Hey!” I half screamed. “Let go of me.” I struggled against his strong hand.

Lex’s eyes flashed and he lowered his head slightly, talking to me in a low, almost sad, voice. “No one like you should be here. You don’t deserve this kind of punish…”

“Lex!” Vegas roared.

Lexington dropped his hand and leered up at Vegas. I jumped back a pace closer to Vegas and looked up at him cautiously then back up at Lex. His face had changed, his ears slicked back, a smirk curled his lips. He had started putting on his airs.

Lexington sneered sarcastically. “Well, well, well…” He hissed. “If it isn’t our fearless leader.” He stood so that he blocked Vegas and I from one another’s sight’s.

“Don’t you dare talk to Mackenzie like that.” Vegas snarled. “She hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Ha!” Lexington scoffed. “Yet.” He scowled down at me as he skulked out of the room. He shoved Vegas out of his way so hard I was worried for a moment.

Vegas turned back to me and stared at me apologetically. “I am so sorry about him. He didn’t say anything to you did he?”

I didn’t have to heart to tell Vegas that he did say something. Just before Vegas had interrupted him, it sounded as if Lexington was about to say: “You don’t deserve this kind of punishment.” I suddenly felt sorry for Lexington. Out of all four of the wolf-boys, I had a feeling the affliction hurt Lexington the most.

“No.” I murmured. “Nothing that was worth getting upset over anyways.”

Vegas nodded and forced a smile. “That’s good, I guess. Just don’t pay any attention to him.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “But, I don’t blame him for being defensive.”

Vegas frowned, a quizzical look to his eyes. “You don’t?”

I shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Vegas shook his head and faked a laugh. “Guess not.” He turned. “Well, I’m going to bed. So…” He hesitated, watching me with his overly human eyes. “Good night.” He muttered and walked off.

“G’night.” I answered and looked around the kitchen before I went off to my own corner of the studio.

[nohoperadio]

My favourite author is Iris Murdoch.

I don't think I have favourites in any other category, it feels like a bit of an artificial concept usually, but it would be silly to deny this one. I was halfway through my first Murdoch novel (at age 20 or so) when I felt certain I was going to have to read them all (there are 26). My feeling was that I would have stayed true to that even if every other book she wrote had been terrible. I'm sure that's not true, but I say it to illustrate that she inspired a deep and irrational loyalty in me very early on that hasn't waned over time. I've been reading between one and three of her books per year since I started, deliberately spreading them out so as not to deplete a valuable resource too soon, although presumably I'll just start rereading them at the same rate after I've finished. I've read 21 out of 26 so far.

Maybe someday I'll have something to say on here about what draws me to her books so strongly. Not right now though. What I want to say today is that I usually like her opening lines very much, she often starts with some very punchy compact moment that feels weirdly complete already even as it clearly stands in need of unpacking, if that makes sense to anyone else. This post is going to be simply a compilation of some good ones. Let's say 10 of the best, in no particular order.

I'm defining "opening lines" as not literally just the first sentence but enough to cover the first self-contained "moment" of the book, which is a bit of a judgment call for sure but you can be confident I've judged correctly in every case. For The Philosopher's Pupil (but no others) I've blatantly cheated by entirely skipping a sort of prologue chapter because I think the opening of the next chapter is both more opening-like and more compelling, I acknowledge that this is illegitimate but you'll just have to deal with it. Okay here goes.

---

The Unicorn

'How far away is it?'

'Fifteen miles.'

'Is there a bus?'

'There is not.'

'Is there a taxi or a car I can hire in the village?'

'There is not.'

'Then how am I to get there?'

'You might hire a horse hereabouts,' someone suggested after a silence.

---

An Accidental Man

'Gracie darling, will you marry me?'

'Yes.'

'What?'

---

The Bell

Dora Greenfield left her husband because she was afraid of him. She decided six months later to return to him for the same reason.

---

The Philosopher's Pupil

I am the narrator: a discreet and self-effacing narrator. This book is not about me.

---

Bruno's Dream

Bruno was waking up. The room seemed to be dark. He held his breath, testing the quality of the darkness, wondering if it was night or day, morning or afternoon. If it was night that was bad and might be terrible. Afternoon could be terrible too if he woke up too early. The drama of sleeping and waking had become preoccupying and fearful now that consciousness itself could be so heavy a burden.

---

The Sacred and Profane Love Machine

The boy was there again this morning, and the dogs were not barking.

---

A Fairly Honourable Defeat

'Julius King.'

'You speak his name as if you were meditating upon it.'

'I am meditating upon it.'

'He's not a saint.'

'He's not a saint. And yet—'

---

The Message to the Planet

'Of course we have to do with two madmen now, not with one.'

'You mean Marcus is mad too?'

'No, he means Patrick is mad too.'

---

The Red and the Green

Ten more glorious days without horses!

---

The Sea, The Sea

The sea which lies before me as I write glows rather than sparkles in the bland May sunshine. With the tide turning, it leans quietly against the land, almost unflecked by ripples or by foam. Near the horizon it is a luxurious purple, spotted with regular lines of emerald green. At the horizon it is indigo. Near to the shore, where my view is framed by rising heaps of humpy yellow rock, there is a band of lighter green, icy and pure, less radiant, opaque however, not transparent. We are in the north, and the bright sunshine cannot penetrate the sea. Where the gentle water taps the rocks there is still a surface skin of colour. The cloudless sky is very pale at the indigo horizon which it lightly pencils in with silver. Its blue gains towards the zenith and vibrates there. But the sky looks cold, even the sun looks cold.

I had written the above, destined to be the opening paragraph of my memoirs, when something happened which was so extraordinary and so horrible that I cannot bring myself to describe it even now after an interval of time and although a possible, though not totally reassuring, explanation has occurred to me. Perhaps I shall feel calmer and more clear-headed after yet another interval.

[rosewoodroad]

Scattered thoughts on SoTO

Tl;dr: Lukewarm climax, lukewarm ending. Isgarren is still rude.

Finished the final chapter in an hour and a half. A lot of drama was condensed into those 3 instances, but it felt like there was zero point to the first two where we were just at the camp. It got a bit juicier in the third instance in Eparch's palace. Like, three drops of juice juicier.

The most interesting bits of the story I can recall are:

Eparch ate his entire army! At the time, I was like "oh shit" but in hindsight, I was really hoping for Eparch to be planning a massive attack or something. There was so much build up as to why he wasn't retaliating against Peitha. But no, his great plan was just to eat his own soldiers. I guess it makes sense with his character, but I think if the execution and consequences of the reveal was better, it would have been a real slap to the face.

Eparch's first contact with Tyria was the Maguuma Jungle and Mordremoth, the latter of which he was scared of. This is a real neat detail imho, and helps paint a better picture of the power hierarchy between our antagonists. Eparch truly isn't that big of a threat in the end.

Eparch's final battle was a letdown for all his intrigue. Heitor was harder than him. I literally stood there and tanked all his hits, there was zero mechanic to the encounter. It sure made the speedkilling achievement easy, though.

Meh battle aside, Snargle is always a pleasant surprise.

Isgarren is such an asshat. It makes him an interesting character, but I'm upset they didn't do more with him. Like, what was all that talk about the Commander being similar to Isgarren before? Everyone is like, "you remind me of him" but they never show how?? I thought they were gonna do some real in depth introspection into his personality by the time the story ends but I guess that's it. We're supposed to see the two of them as twins for some reason, but maybe the Fractal will shed some light?

Sounds like Zojja is leaving us for good this time. The exchange between Zojja and the Commander is the only element of the chapter that made me feel things :( Also, I love how the Commander's lines here mirrored their monologue in the prologue: "See? Everyone's doing just fine, Aurene" to "Everyone will be fine, Zojja."

I think my biggest disappointment with the ending is the lack of implications in the epilogue. We could talk with a bunch of people but they're all about the future with the Kryptis and whether peace is possible and whatever. Nothing about, or from, mainland Tyria. No hints for the next expac. No mention of our guild members. No Ivan, who sent us on the mission to begin with and heard nothing from us since. No Taimi, who really ought to be spamming calls on the comms device now that she knows Zojja is back. What is the point of the communicator device in our bags when it's literally used for the prologue and nowhere else???

Peitha's king now. I love how they kept the 'king' title instead of making her queen. But... that's it for her, I guess. I knew she wouldn't betray us, but I admit it's also sort of boring how the story just ended there. I think it could have benefited from more post-story achievements where we help out with turbulent politics or diplomacy instead of going on another treasure (or kryptis) hunt binge. Right now, it feels like the equivalent of brushing dirt off our pants and going, "welp that's done."

Nobody's gonna mention what Eparch said about Kryptis' predatorial nature, huh? They drop his (very, very tiny violin) sympathetic backstory and motivations, and then proceed not to bring its implications up at the peace treaty scene. Absolutely nobody is bothered by Kryptis possibly needing to feed off mortals.

All in all, honestly a forgettable ending. Looking back, the expac started off really strong thanks to the intrigue behind the Wizards and Isgarren. But once that intrigue is solved and we go delving into Nayos, it just feels like a rehash of all our previous adventures where we fight to overcome some Great Force of Evil- just that the Commander isn't in the spotlight anymore. I would've preferred it if the past three chapters were spent with the wizards instead, solving dumb magical problems (or even fighting to keep the Astral Ward a secret!) instead of partaking in a generic military storyline for the 9th time. Like, instead of Eparch, we could have been hunting down a whistleblower, or a traitor maybe, something that keeps the intrigue there.

At least it's acknowledged that the Commander is tired of this stuff too. They need a nap.

[waywardsummoner46]

Eternity, Part One

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x (?)Reader

Summary: You should’ve known that running from your past would be your downfall… you just never would’ve imagined it’d land you right into the waiting arms of an Endless, one that’s been searching for you for eons. he may be trapped for now, but your new job at Fawny Rig may just be the solution for that. Heed the warnings: you took something from him and now he must consume you for himself…

Word Count: 2392

Warnings: mind manipulation/control, possessive and obsessive behaviour, mental breakdown, suggestions of psychological torture, threat of bones collapsing,more to added with more chapters

A/N: Heyyyyy, I know it's a tad bit late to be posting the first part to a prologue that was released like two months ago but it's here now! And it's longer than what I usually write so I hope that makes up for it. Enjoy this while you can because Morpheus is about to get a whole lot freakin' worse. As always, I hope you're okay and let me know what you think!

Fawny Rig had an… impressive exterior, to say the least. 

  Chuckling to yourself, you knew that living in somewhere as grand and beautiful as there would be a concept you’d never be able to experience. Although, based on the job description, it seemed as though the owners were quite friendly and presumably welcoming enough for it to seem like some sort of a home.

   Holding the advertisement in your hand, you contemplated how this would actually work; were you to be a permanent resident? Semi-permanent? Maybe this would be a day thing? Exhaling once, you decided just to wing it (within reason, of course).

  Speaking of wings, there was the distinct sound of a raven squawking in the distance. Curiously, you looked around and smiled slightly when you saw a beautiful raven perched upon your bag handle. 

  “Oh, aren’t you beautiful?” 

  Almost naively, you reached out a hand with the childish hope of being able to stroke the creature. You completely ignored the health risks that came with birds and it appeared to work out in your favour as the raven’s wings preened and glittered as the sun reflected off of them. 

  A small smile spread across your face, “Oh yes, you are. Absolutely gorgeous.” 

  For a while, you merely stood over your bags and admired the raven, so majestically offering itself up for your generous petting. However, the more you stroked it, the more the distinct feeling that you’d seen it before grew. Come to think of it, your palm had started itching… again. God dammit, you seriously needed to keep track of your meds.

  Reluctantly, you pulled one hand away from the bird and reached for your tablets in your pocket. The incessant crinkling of the paper annoyed you and furthered the  pain of trying to extract a pill from its case. Once you’d finally managed to wriggle it out, you let out a triumphant sound.

  The bird was temporarily forgotten and as you lifted the tablet up to your mouth, the screeching of the raven caused you to drop the pill. Exasperated, you turned to the raven. “Come on, dude. I need those.”

  When the bird raised a brow, you blinked incredulously. But then, it cawed a final time and flew off with the rest of your medication. “Hey! Get back here! This isn’t funny, bird!”

  “Miss, is everything alright?” A timid voice called from the entrance to the manor. Oh jeez, this was embarrassing .

  Turning around with, what you hoped was, a friendly and not-at-all crazy smile on your face, you made the regrettable decision to forget about the bird. “Yes, thank you. Sorry, a raven just stole my medication. I’m not crazy, I swear,” you offered a light chuckle.

 Luckily, the young lady seemed to accept your words for she made idle chit-chat as she invited you in. The maid,  Blythe as she’d introduced herself, led you into a well-furnished and incredibly artefactual, antiquated living room and told you to enjoy the pre-prepared drinks as she called your employers.

  Glancing around the room as her rhythmic footsteps grew quieter, you began to realise how out of your depth you were; never in your life had you been responsible for a job on such an important scale before. It wasn’t even that the job was difficult or in anyway out of your capabilities, it’s just that the weight of-

  “Ah, (Y/N), a pleasure to meet you. How are you? How was your trip? I hope you’re familiar with basements because that’s where you’ll be situated,” Alex Burgess spoke from where he was being wheeled by his husband, Paul. His bluntness caught you slightly off-guard, there was something underlying there that clearly made him anxious if his darting eyes were any indication.

  Immediately, you stood and stretched out a hand. “Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Burgess. My trip was good, thank you. And, yes, basements are something I’m acclimated to,” well that was complete and utter bullshit. Basements were a big no-no for you. Nothing good ever came from them, nothing, especially after…

  “Blythe informed me that a… raven… flew away with your medication?” He asked, drawing you away from your thoughts. Embarrassingly, your cheeks flushed and you began to stutter.

  “Y-yeah, that’s right. I didn’t even realise until it nearly deafened me.”

  Alex Burgess seemed to tense in  his wheelchair, why? You did not know, but curiosity killed the cat. “Is everything okay?”

  Snapping out a daze, he gave you a quick glance before asking Paul to guide him back upstairs. “Everything’s fine, thank you.” He gave you one last small smile before turning his attention to Blythe, “If you could show Miss (Y/N) to her room and inform her of her duties that would be marvellous.”

  Blythe paled almost imperceptibly, but you noticed, you always noticed. Worry churned your gut and your head turned suspiciously. 

  “Do you mean…?”

  He nodded and that’s all the answer she had before both Burgesses left. 

  Frozen, she stood in place and stared through the floor. The emptiness in her eyes made you uneasy. You took a tentative step towards her, “Blythe?” Snapping her head towards you, she stumbled away, her expression signifying she was seeing something you could not. “Woah, Blythe, take deep breaths. You’re safe, no one’s going to hurt you.”

  The young maid was incapable of listening, of seeing reason. Tempted to call for someone, you paused when her panicked breathing came to a halt. Similarly to before, she acted as though you were a window except this time she started muttering. It was indistinguishable at first, it soon grew to murmurs, to normal words, to shouts, and finally to panicked, urgent yells of pure unadulterated terror. 

  “Leave! You need to leave! He’s here, he knows you’re here. He won’t stop until you give. It. BACK! GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK!” 

  Now it was you who was frozen. Rational thought escaped you, instead overwhelming confusion and slight panic consumed you. What was she talking about? Who was “he”? How did he know you were here? What did he want back?

  Two men clad in suits walked in and wrestled with Blythe’s manic form out of the room, leaving you haunted by her echoing screams down the corridors. Concerned, though you were, bewilderment ceased you from forming any coherent functions for a time - only when Paul came to escort you to your room did you snap out of your daze.

  He made small talk as he guided you to your room, apologising for your rocky and traumatising beginning and assuring you that tomorrow wouldn’t be like this. You responded in kind, albeit numbly. In all honesty, you were disturbed with everyone’s behaviour above all else; Alex seemed anxious at  the mention of a raven, then Blythe had had a mental breakdown and what appeared to be a flashback and now, Paul was acting as though he was used to it, as though they were all used to it. 

  Despite your brain not working at full capacity, you managed to bid Paul a good evening and settled in for an early night. Despite your brain not working at full capacity, you knew that there was something going on here, something they were hiding. You’d be damned if you weren’t going to find out… What worried you was this man Blythe had spoken about and how he knew you were here. Another resident, perhaps? A neighbour? Couldn’t be, there wasn’t another house for miles, at least not one that you’d seen. 

  You had no further options, so you surrendered to exhaustion and hoped that your dreams might bring you some peace…

You were in the forest again. The same one. The same leaves crunching under your feet, the same sounds being your breath, the same stars gazing down at you from the heavens and the same raven, cawing nervously from where it was standing next to your sitting form.

  Regarding it with suspicion, you hesitantly gestured for it to perch itself on your shoulder. Once it did, your suspicion turned into contentment. Nature always puts you at ease, and after the night you’d had you needed a break. Speaking of the night you’d had,  your thoughts began to drift towards the inner turmoil Blythe’s outburst had caused you.

  The abruptness of the entire situation wasn’t lost on you, in fact, it only made you more and more anxious about the job you’d applied for on a whim. Because that’s all it was, wasn’t it? A whim?

  Your eyes absentmindedly traced the curves and edges of the leaves around you as you reflected on the past few days: you’d always made a point to consider things and pinpoint each and every outcome. Your experiences and past had instilled that habit into you from a very young age so your careless decision to take this job was extremely uncharacteristic and that scared you.

  No matter who you surround yourself with, you ensured that you never grew an attachment that could influence your decision making so you were left puzzled over your future and past - your present, even!

  Leaves crunching to your right jolted you out of your reverie. In your skittishness, the raven flew off your shoulder and onto the man who’d entered your space. You registered vaguely that you recognised him, his chiselled features and ethereal complex making it nigh impossible to forget and yet, a headache brewed when you thought too hard about it, about anything really.

  Your eyes looked over him and widened when they met his own; it was pure darkness. Pure darkness with hints of white, of-of stars, you realised, this man had literal space within his eyes.

  Dazedly, you muttered, “What the hell?”

  Calmly and with the grace of a king, he moved towards you. Half of you fought to step back but the other half was utterly captivated by his gaze, completely caught up in the vastness of his eyes and the emptiness within. 

  Suddenly, his gaze turned more intense and all fight left you within an instant. That stuck you as odd, why did your emotions sway that intensely? 

  Before you could question it, he raised his hand, his palm facing the sky, and your eyes were inexplicably glued to it. There was something scarily familiar about this situation… but even that nagging feeling wasn’t enough for you to ignore the urge to place your hand in his own. Eyes completely focused and brain becoming fuzzier by the second, you took in a shuddering gasp and moved your arm up.

  The distance between each of your hands was closing and with it the lack of coherent thought in your brain, the lack of any idea apart from take his hand.

  His celestial eyes were staring hungrily at your hand and when it finally, finally, made contact with his own, he let out a gasp so loud that it broke you out of whatever stupor you’d been in.

  “What the hell? Who are y-mmph!”

  The man had pulled you into his chest and now had both of his arms caging you in, like a bird imprisoned, completely helpless to its situation. Too awestruck to do anything apart from numbly stare into his shoulder, you struggled to comprehend your situation. You knew that this was a dream and yet the complete and utter ridiculous situation and worrying feelings you were experiencing caused scepticism to dominate your brain.

  The man was warm, you had to admit. Probably because of his intricately crafted black cloak. He was also strong if the feeling of his arms around you and your unfortunately placed hands on his chest were of any significance. 

  “Are you gonna let go any time soon, mister? Orrrrr…” 

  Speaking up was the wrong thing to do; his arms tightened once more except, they didn’t actually stop. You grew confused, and scared, especially once it became difficult to breathe. Was he trying to kill you with a hug? That would look amazing on a tombstone: “Death by Hug.” 

  Regardless of your wandering mind, your physical body was under extreme stress. Bones began to grind together and you could’ve sworn you heard some crack. There was no pain, though, so perhaps you were overreacting in the uncomfortable moment.

  “Once we have merged, my love, I will finally be able to care for you in the way only you deserve. But you must give it up to me, willingly,” his low voice directly in your ears sent chills down your spine. There it was again, this giving someone something back. Blythe’s outburst seriously did affect you, didn’t it?

  “This is no mere dream, little one. Have you truly forgotten me?”

  You tried to pull back slightly, to garner any sort of information from his facial expression that you couldn’t from his tone of voice, but he withheld unbearably tight - it was a struggle to even understand what he’d said. 

  You wet your lips, “I don’t even know who I… am… anymore.”

  Like he’d been struck, he reeled back and peered intensely into your half lidded eyes. He looked scandalised, but why? He didn’t know you, he didn’t even exist outside of this dream! You’d just had a taxing day and your subconscious was taking it out on you.

  A sudden look of pure rage crossed his face and you flinched back much like he had done only seconds before. As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished into a look of cold indifference. 

  “Then there is only one thing to be done.”

  Just like that, you awoke. The first thing you registered was the sounds of shouting, shortly thereafter an agonising scream permeated throughout the manor and you were instantly wide awake.

  Somehow you knew, you didn’t know how but you knew that something was wrong with Blythe. Something was wrong with this house and its residents. And you had a sneaking suspicion that it all stemmed from this… man… who haunted them before and who now haunts you.

  Fear unlike any other twisted your heart painfully behind your ribcage. Yet there was also something pulling at it, almost willing it in a way, to leave the room and investigate what was happening.   So you did what any other person would do - you left the confines of your room into what would unknowingly change your life… for eternity.

_____________

Tag list~

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[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Danse Macabre

Astarion x M!Tav / Astarion x M!Dark Urge

TEASER

A03 Link: Danse Macabre

Warning: Depictions of v*olence and t*rture

Prologue

The whip cracks with a harsh tone, splitting the silence that hangs heavy in the darkness. The man beside him begins to chant; it's apathetic and cold, the words unintelligible to the man who kneels in front of the preacher. 

Dain cannot make out the place that surrounds him, as it hurts too much to open his eyes. But he can feel the floor beneath him; freezing, rigid stone cruel against his aching knees, vibrant pain shooting down his shins and up the muscles in his thighs. His hands are held up above his head in shackles that pull him apart; they have been held up for so long he can no longer feel his fingers and a humming numbness buzzes through his arms, setting at the junctions of his shoulders.  He dare not move, he does not know if he even could.

The flail hits his back and the words the preacher mutter stumbles along a crescendo; he fumbles at his pronunciation, but he does not bother to correct himself. The prayer no longer matters, it stopped holding its meaning many years ago when discipline became twisted pleasure. 

Through spotted vision, Dain takes in what details he can of the man who punishes him for crimes he did not commit. The preacher wears a robe that was, at some point in its life white, the cotton now beginning to stain grey along the seams and hemming as the grime begins to cling harder at the fabric, burying itself like an infestation. It is adorned with a symbol he does not recognise, but it resembles a brilliant, blooming sun (his blood now blemishes the saffron yellow and some part of him believes it to be ironic). Draped over his shoulders are heavy gold chains, coming together to meet the same symbol cast in metal.

Dain burns the blazing sun into his mind, cursing the image in what few languages he remembers. 

*****

Dain tastes iron and smoke on his tongue when he coughs. The fractured glass beneath his fingertips threatens to pierce his skin if he is not careful, so he lifts himself slowly, mindful of the pounding in his head, settling contently behind his left eye. His body is aching deep within his bones, muscles stiff, sore and unused. Standing upright on his own two feet grants a pained relief - when he stretches he feels unknown tendons spasm and cramp. 

The ground beneath him feels solid yet moving; it is an odd sensation as if being carried. The rumble of something mechanical, the harsh shudder and swerving of quivering wind. Dain is moving all while staying still. A vessel of some sort?

It takes a moment for his hazy vision to focus and what greets him is the dilapidated hull of unfamiliar surroundings. Unbothered fires burn in the edges of the room, flicking and stroking against the wine-coloured, foreign metal that makes up the walls and fixtures. 

He feels as if he should be panicking; not many would find themselves in a burning room, potentially burning ship, and remain as calm as a fox within its den. However, the fire is (currently) not spreading and the walls are yet to collapse on top of him. Maybe then he’ll run and scream.

What truly worries him is the loss he feels. The untargeted rage and hurt. He searches his mind yet all he feels is a strange sense of regret amidst the fog of his memories. Dain forages and scrambles through a kaleidoscope of images and fragments, unable to piece them in a way which makes any sense. A flash of dark eyes, streaks of red, a flutter of wings, twisted black and a bold sun. The throbbing behind his eye intensifies and he feels his stomach begin to turn with nausea.

He retracts himself from his own mind with a shudder, cold regret seeping through his chest until it stabs at his heart.

‘A second chance, my child. For the both of us.’

*****

This story, due to its size, will be uploaded to AO3, however any important/chapter updates I'll post here :)

I can't wait to share this one with all of you, it's gonna be juicy

xx

[where-i-overanalyze]

conquering the Soul Eater manga timeline

this can be an open discussion because i haven't read Not and i unfortunately cannot get my hands on any officially translated volumes, so if there's anything that proves my alignments wrong, feel free to tell me and i'll update this!!! i break the timeline up by month and what year of the story we are in. i'm not doing math and not considering the exact days and alignments for what day of the week the dates are lining up on, that is something i am not willing to put myself through. this is post is long af, so if you don't care about all of my explanation, i'll put a summary of the timeline at the end for easy reading.

admittedly, the beginning half of the manga is easier to label because this is when we get some distinct timeframes, but it is still a horror. because of this, i'm going to use this as a reference to how time passes with the other events in the manga. i'll be referencing the Soul Eater wiki as a basic guide as much as i can and scouring the manga for any hints about how time is passing for everything else. honestly, if the second half of the manga was speed run, the entirety of Soul Eater could take place less than a year. i don't think that is the case purely because of the pace at the beginning of the manga, so let us begin.

November (1)

this is where everything starts: the prologue chapters, the remedial lesson with Sid and Stein, Kid enrolling in the DWMA. there is no specific day in which this all starts, the wiki says it's just "after October 31st," so i'm going to start us off on exactly November 1st for the beginning of all of this. every one of these events could easily be happening within the first two weeks of November.

following this, realistically it would be a day or two before Maka and Soul take on the extra lesson where they meet Crona. Soul gets slashed and, according to my google search, wounds that are large or "surgery incisions" usually take about 1 week to stop being super inflamed. total healing times vary, but i'll say that since weapons are kinda human kinda not, that Soul would be able to be up and walking around somewhat normally in about a week, maybe less. last week of November can be when Masamune and Tsubaki's fight takes place, so this is our entire first November stacked up.

December (1)

strong start! and from here on out, the timeline gets confusing. wiki says chapters 10-15 take place from December-February. this includes the Free jailbreak, the super exam, and the whole Nidhogg and Black Dragon mission for Kid. in the next chapter (15), we're at the DWMA Foundation Eve ceremony which is supposed to take place . . . on April 1st.

this is one of the very few times we're given an exact date (Chapter 32), so i'm using it as an anchor for everything else. i'm also going to assume that these students sometimes have days off and breaks and have "normal" school life to a certain extent. i'm also going to assume that they have some sort of winter holiday off, whether it's some sort of Christmas or Yule or just the New Year doesn't matter; what actually matters is that they would get probably 2 or more weeks off of school because of it. they're in Nevada, which means that it is (maybe? probably?) the New years that is on January 1st.

let's say December starts with Chapter 9. it opens with the Witch's Mass where Medusa puts the snakes in Eruka. then it cuts to Soul having a general check-up on his wound. Stein gives Black☆Star the jar of funky water that will strengthen his soul for the phantom sword mode. for the sake of stretching this out to something reasonable, i'm going to say that this check-up takes place at least one week after the Witch's Mass, because Eruka trying to confront Medusa takes place the same day as the check-up and i doubt Eruka would have shown up to confront her like the day after the mass. after this, i want to say that the Free jail and bridge plot takes a while to set up, but . . .

tomorrow. god, i have never hated a word more. this speeds up the entire chain of events with fighting Free on the bridge. i'd say that it takes 2-3 days to break Free out, for Maka and Soul's wavelength to get messed up, and then they fight on the bridge. this puts us at week 2 of December. Maka's hands are fucked up after the fight and Soul makes a comment about how he'll have to make dinner for a while by the looks of her hands, so i'm exploiting that and saying that is when DWMA has their "winter holiday break." while all of that is happening, Crona is harvesting souls and stuff w/ Ragnarok (shown at the end of Chapter 11). i'll say that this is all in preparation for the Nidhogg in a bit.

January & February (1)

and now, we do a little time exploitation. let's say they come back to school the 2nd week of January. Maka's healed, everyone's back, wahoo!! Chapter 12 is the super written exam, and this is where my exploitation comes in.

test in one week, Maka's already been studying for a whole month. i'm imagining the first day back from winter break goes something like this: Stein walks into the room, writes "Super Written Exam" on the chalkboard, slaps it and yells "THIRD WEEK OF FEBRUARY," and Maka goes home that day and immediately starts studying. i know Maka's a nerd and reasonably was studying the whole year and between missions and whatever, but this is for my sanity. scores probably took a whole day to come out and be posted. anyone below Soul (Kid, Liz, Patty, and Black☆Star) had to take extra lessons, so those probably took up the remaining week of February.

March (1)

i am deeming March as the month of nothing but the Nidhogg mission. after the Nidhogg mission and Ragnarok eating all the souls on that boat, it's Kishin revival time at the party, which means the Nidhogg mission needs to be right at the end of March b/c then Kid knows about the Kishin being under the school and i doubt he sat on that information for a super long time or else he would've gone to investigate.

April (1)

April fools, it's Kishin awake time!! this covers Chapter 16-22 and it's got all the fun stuff: the first Crona redemption, the first Medusa death, and Lord Death calling together all of the Death Scythes. this is also supposedly the time when Maka checks out the Book of Eibon from the library, so i'm making the call that she did it after she connected with Crona and before the Death Scythes arrived b/c her purpose for taking it was because she wanted to know more about black blood and Medusa's research and somehow ended up there.

i really can't put a guess on how long it takes the Death Scythes to get to Death City because the speed at which people travel across entire countries in Soul Eater is insane. Kid flew from Egypt to Nevada and back within a day on his skateboard, there is no explanation i can come up with. for the sake of my sanity, let's say that it takes at least a week or two for the Death Scythes to get here b/c they have to find arrangements to take over whatever positions they had at their previous stations. the students are also recovering from various injuries and the city is rebuilding from the fight between Lord Death and Asura

these panels make it seem like at least the DWMA has gone on a break for a bit because of all the Kishin junk and that the Death Scythes arrived the day before school was resuming. let's say that the "tomorrow" is going to start the Monday of the third week of April.

this puts Crona's trial day of school as the Monday of the last week of April since Maka's day with her dad already happened (presumably the day before). Crona's been in the dungeon ever since April 1st, and their trial day is the same day that Arachne makes her first appearance (which is pretty rough smh, first day out of prison and you meet your evil aunt?? damn). this is all happening in Chapters 23-26.

from this point on, Maka's completely paralyzed for . . . an undisclosed amount of time. we've got Black☆Star's second run-in with Mifune maybe a day or two after Maka is set up in the infirmary at the DWMA. i used to think that the candy Black☆Star got from Mifune somehow cured her, but i have now realized that's not the case because,

May (1)

the party Kid hosts that is interrupted by the runaway train happens on the same day Maka comes back to class for the first time. Azusa says that the runaway train mission happened on May 21st (in Chapter 38), which ultimately means that, according to the timeline we've got going, Maka was in the infirmary for almost the entirety of May. this truly does make sense since, in that time, Medusa took over Rachel and Rachel's family had enough time to put up missing posters for her. May 21st is also when Medusa makes her appearance to Crona and everything starts going bad for them, which means Medusa had enough time to get in contact with Eruka again. Kid then seems to spend the rest of May after the runaway train looking for information about Eibon.

June (1)

this is the point of no return, this is the last specific date the wiki has. after June 1st, we are absolutely in the dark as to when tf anything happens (according to the wiki), so i'm probably going to get even more picky about the details. June 1st is when Kid is in the library and realizes that the Book of Eibon has been checked out. a day or two after that, Crona gets the snake and puts it in Marie's drink. all of that happens in Chapter 32, and in Chapter 33 we've got the group soul resonance lesson.

time exploitation time, Stein says "in the near future," so i will take that to mean "in a week" because that is the near future. a week after the group lesson, it's Lost Island Brew Tempest mission time. i'll say that the Brew mission happens on like in the middle of the second week of June (this also makes me realize that they don't have summer break! smh! i guess evil never rests, but whatever). this covers Chapters 34-37, Lord Death immediately calls for BJ after the Brew missions. i'll say that it takes BJ a few days to get to DWMA and his investigation takes place sometime in the third week of June. this happens on a day during the school week because Kid and Black☆Star have their fight where Kid absolutely demolishes Black☆Star, and Maka leaves her "Maka notes" at school and ends up overhearing a conversation between Crona and Eruka.

Maka Notes. anyways, Black☆Star gets suspended and goes to Japan with Tsubaki, BJ gets murdered, Stein is set up to be the murderer and he leaves with Marie to find the really culprit, and Crona leaves the DWMA all on the same day. a lot happens that day, RIP BJ, lived for two chapters. Crona was only at school for about two months, and one of those months was full of being worried about Medusa being alive!! makes me sad

July (1)

after that specific day, i feel like Chapters 41-43 have to take place in the tail end of June, if not the beginning of July. everyone has extracurricular lessons, Medusa surrenders herself, and Kim and Jackie run away from DWMA within a day or two after Chapter 43 now that everyone's extracurricular lessons are done. three days after Medusa surrenders herself, operation Capture Baba Yaga happens, which covers . . . Chapters 46-60. this is where things get even more uncertain for when things happen. there is an "unknown time skip" after Baba Yaga finishes up. i will be basing this time skip off of Black☆Star's insane amount of wounds that he has to recover from after killing Mifune (rip Mifune, wish he had lived tbh).

Black☆Star's fingers are MANGLED. he has other injuries from this fight, but i think it's those fingers that are gonna give us the best bet as to how long the time skip actually is. we see some stuff right after the battle with Justin and Giriko, then probably 2-3 days after that (putting us at the end of the first week of July), Kim and Angela are granted permission to stay with the DWMA, and Stein and Marie confront Justin, providing me with my absolute favorite panels of the manga.

anyways.

we see Black☆Star's fucked up in Chapter 61, he's got his finger cast on, again this is probably 2-3 days after Baba Yaga, still at the end of that first week of July. with Black☆Star's broken fingers, we continue on.

August & September (1)

my google search says that "fractured fingers typically take 6-8 weeks to heal, but can take up to 3-4 months to fully regain strength." i won't say that it takes 3-4 months for Black☆Star's hand to heal, mainly b/c he wouldn't be able to stay inactive for that long, but i think the 6-8 weeks is reasonable considering those fingers were obliterated. people in Soul Eater heal pretty fast and Black☆Star is super strong, so we can settle on a solid 8-10 weeks before Black☆Star is healed enough and had some physical therapy to be sort of back in action in Chapter 62. all of the other students seem to be full healed and adjusted to this schedule they've got (Ox has also grown out his bald ass head, so that's another time indication). enough time needs to have passed for Maka and Soul to have acquired 99 souls for Soul to become a death scythe. they probably had gotten some souls in the gaps between actual events and whatnot, so it's not like they're going 0-99 in a matter of 10 weeks. so, we come into Chapter 62 at around the end of the third week of September with Stein and Marie returning after beating tf outta Justin, Black☆Star is well and healed, Soul becomes a Death Scythe, and the Spartoi is officially formed.

from here, we get Maka and Soul practicing flying and abilities now that Soul is a Death Scythe and we have Gopher and Noah's forces showing up. this is definitely the next day, maybe two days, so i'm gonna say that this is that start of a new week. it seems that everyone is kind of just spending time to train and get stronger in preparations for whenever the next move from the opposing side happens.

this both emphasizes the fact that everyone is spending time getting stronger, and it also makes it clear that the other members of the Spartoi aren't on the Witch's Research mission while Maka is training and fighting in Chapters 63-65. Chapter 65 ends with a glimpse of Medusa telling Crona that they're going to start moving forward with her plan, and i will say that this ends September.

October (1)

full honesty, i can't tell how long it's been between Chapter 65 and Chapter 66. it obviously is after the run in with Gopher, but how long? i don't know!! for some reason, Maka was not assigned the Witch's Research mission even though they were looking for Medusa and her lab, which probably could be good for her high ability soul perception.

i get it, she wasn't assigned, but this whole mission consists of the rest of Maka's resonance team (minus Kid b/c he's stuck in the book) and team B, minus Ox and Harvard. maybe it was purely to play around with different team dynamics since Kilik wields Liz and Patty in Kid's absence (i'm also pretty sure they say that Kilik has the same type of ability as Stein when it comes to matching with weapons' wavelengths and whatnot). anyways, i think this whole mission probably happens over halfway into October for a few reasons.

firstly, Black☆Star being healed earlier doesn't mean he was Fully ready for missions yet. his appearance in Chapter 62 was probably his test to see if he was physically ready to take something on again. this seems to be his first mission after being recovered, so i'd say that the new Spartoi group had to do some adjusting now that everyone is ready to go by then. secondly, Gopher attempted to assassinate Maka, which probably put the DWMA more on alert since it's an enemy they haven't even seen before this point. this also might be why Maka isn't on this mission. they wanted to make sure that this mission went off without a hitch, they didn't want to rush into it so they super planned it, and it worked for the most part. lastly, Medusa said "It's time, Crona" at the end of Chapter 65. she probably already had preparations for all of this stuff, but i feel like since this is also her "reappearance" with Crona and her clown experiments, it works as a "time to get things moving" rather than "we're starting this right now." we also have no indication as to when tf she even says that, so it could be right after Maka's attempted assassination, or it could actually be right before the mission!!! with all of that, i am dubbing the Witch's Research (Chapters 66-68) mission to have happened at the end of the third week of October.

after all of this happens, Chapter 69 (nice) gives us some random school life where Soul is getting "Partner Requests" from other students, which also supports my idea that this happens late October rather than right after Maka's run-in with Gopher, because now Soul's been a Death Scythe long enough for the younger students to start trying to fuck around with Maka and Soul's partnership (unrelated but there's also some insane foreshadowing about Medusa's fuckin death in this chapter?? i might have to make my own short post about that b/c it's crazy to me). this picks up right after the Witch's Research mission (i think) because Black☆Star brings in Eruka in to Lord Death to help retrieve Kid from the Book of Eibon. there's a bunch of "one day earlier" and "the appointed day" when they're talking about performing the magic to send the Spartoi into the Book of Eibon, so for my mental health, i'm going to say that the Witch's Research team takes a day to get back, brings in Eruka the next day and Maka confesses to checking out the Book of Eibon, and then they perform the ritual to get the Spartoi in the book, which puts Chapters 69-72 in the third week of October (Kid's in the book for over two months!).

as for the entire Salvage arc, Chapters 72-81, once again there is little-to-no time indication as to how long it takes the Spartoi to get through the Book of Eibon. the DWMA teachers show up at Noah's hideout by the time the Spartoi are able to get Kid out, it's night time, but who knows!! i'm assuming that it's a mission that takes only one day based off of the fact that the witches and other Spartoi members that didn't go in the book are still hanging around the site of the ritual where the Spartoi entered even after the teachers have left to confront Justin and Noah.

good news tho, Maka was pretty injured, which means that i can use her wound healing as a basis for time passing!! we get a lot of exposition from Lord Death, Kid, and Stein in Chapter 82, then we find out Tezca didn't die, and then we see Crona in Moscow fighting the Death Scythe stationed there. and no time indication. i'm assuming that since Kid apologizes to Lord Death for being missing and he's still wearing his little white coat, that all of their conversation must be right after they get back from that mission, which i think is probably the morning after their fight with Noah since they fought at night. this keeps all of their convo in the third week of October. as for Moscow . . . we must now return to Maka's wounds from Chapter 76.

Maka gets kinda fucked up here by Giriko. even if it is a soul wavelength thing and meister's are super fit b/c of training and whatnot, Giriko is literally a chainsaw. she fights when they get out of the Book of Eibon, but i'm going to chalk that up the definite adrenaline she's feeling because she collapses as soon as that fight is over. google says that minor lacerations take less than 2 weeks to heal and major ones take 6-8 weeks to heal. i am realizing now as i type this that Kim's witch abilities could probably heal a lot of people faster (including Black☆Star earlier which i will choose to IGNORE b/c there still had to be enough time for Maka and Soul to get 99 souls) but i think i will choose to ignore that because i don't think the DWMA wants to use her like a school nurse.

November (2)

i want to say that it's been at least 3 weeks, if not a whole month. even if the timeline is fucked, if someone was really injured in the manga, there always seems to be enough time given to them to heal between big acts of the story. it's always kind of obvious when things happen back to back and Medusa probably makes adjustments to the black blood between missions, so i think that it's reasonable to give Maka the time to properly heal from those wounds. she and Soul look pretty casual in those panels, meaning they're able to have some down time.

also, that puts us at officially a whole year since the beginning; we're at the third week of November with Maka's healing time. we won't be over two years for the whole timeline since we're near the end, which kind of surprises me, but whatever. anyways, by the time Crona does their blood thing in Moscow, it seems that Maka has fully recovered from the Giriko fight. Maka, Soul, Kim, Jackie, and Stein go to Moscow after Crona does their blood orb thing, which is probably the day after it happens by the time they get there. it's also snowing in Moscow, and my google search says that it usually starts snowing in Russia around October-November, so that tracks. everyone finds out that the Ukraine blood orb happens while they're in Moscow. Justin shows up at the Ukraine blood orb during the day and Tezca gets decapitated, so some time has passed since the orb appeared b/c there is a significant lack of security and helicopters shown when it first appeared.

full disclaimer: things get very confusing after this point and i'm going to take some liberties to make things make sense. Kid confronts Lord Death about some raids that the DWMA have been doing in order to get people to find the Kishin, and then we see him go to the Lost Island to talk to Eibon, but then we also see Kid on the Lost Island while Crona kills Medusa, and then after Crona kills Medusa . . . Maka, Soul, Black☆Star, and Tsubaki are in some random village helping them hunt down a sky whale??? then, after they return and it's revealed that Crona has been added to Lord Death's list, Kid comes back from the Lost Island???? and then there is, presumably, some sort of a time skip because we see everyone preparing for the missions AND there has been enough time to build an entire air ship.

i'll tackle the air ship last. first, i'm going to put a definite order for the events i just listed b/c they don't make sense. Kid's trip to the Lost Island is shown across multiple chapters (Justin killing Tezca, Crona killing Medusa, and the sky whale mission, which is Chapter 86-88) that talk about things that do not seem to be happening at the same time, so i'm taking advantage of this. Kid's mission being interspersed means that Tezca's and Medusa's death happen before Kid is actually in the Lost Island. i think it all goes something like this: Justin goes to the Ukraine blood orb, kills Tezca, skip a day or so and Crona returns to Medusa and kills her, the raid Kid asks about happens and the news comes out (via newspaper Kid is holding in Chapter 86), then he says he's going to the Lost Island. that probably takes at least a single day to prep. going to say that by the time Kid is actually on his way to the Lost Island, it is the 1st of December.

December (2)

Kid can only be in the magnetic field for 20 minutes, so he is on the Lost Island the same day Maka and the gang deal with the sky whale, because that's the day they find out Crona's been added to Lord Death's list and Maka senses the Kishin on the moon, and then they have to plan how to get to the moon. from there, we have the preparation time skip and, according to my google search, it takes usually over a year to build an air ship/blimp.

there's no way it took the entire DWMA that long to build the air ship purely b/c 1) if it had taken a whole year, i'm pretty sure it would've been mentioned, 2) fantasy type world, DWMA has magic tools in the air ship, so there were probably some magic tools involved in the actual making of the ship, 3) the Spartoi search for Crona and train while the whole time the DWMA was preparing and planning, and i really doubt it took Maka a whole year to think about the church and, honestly, that Crona could survive on their own for a year without being noticed again (both because they're crazy and probably can't take care of themself very effectively, and that people were probably on the look out for another "black blood" event and nothing ever surfaced).

Crona hasn't been seen "since the incident in Russia," which means the DWMA has been looking, but they've gone radio silent in regards to causing any problems. Maka has been trying to see the whole world at once this entire time, so she's getting sensory soul overload, and probably can't do a search like that super often, maybe once every other day or so to try and actually get results that make any sense.

considering all of this, i turn back to the construction of the air ship. this is a mission that is extremely important, so the DWMA is putting a lot of power and planning into it. there is no previous mention (that i know of) of an airship owned by DWMA, so i'm assuming they're starting from the ground up with the help of any magic tools that speed up the process. with that, i and going to say that the air ship took AT LEAST a month to build, probably more than that.

January (2)

magic tools or not, you can't prevent all general workplace construction errors with better tools. maybe the DWMA did already have an air ship, maybe it didn't actually take that long, but it makes the most sense to me with the evidence given. there's the point to be made that "oh, why would the Kishin not come attack them if they're all just spending the time building a blimp?" Stein makes a point of saying that it would be "disadvantageous" for the Kishin to leave the moon because he still gets to spread madness from there whether they fight or not. i really doubt they'd be able to cut down an entire construction process that usually takes upwards of a year to anything less than a month. it can't be too quick because then the plans to go to the moon and find Crona would be too hasty and ill-prepared. the negotiations with the witches also began before the DWMA attacked the moon (Chapter 97). plus, i'm going to use this panel as a way to confirm to myself that things did take a bit of time to prepare.

"finally" meaning that those moon bitches had to wait a while before DWMA got to the moon. from here, we're basically at the end. even if the air ship took less or more than a month, the entire manga finishes up with the battle on the moon, which takes, at most, two days of straight fighting.

what i have decided on puts us at the very beginning of January, and that's where it ends!! Chapters 91-112 all happen within that two-ish day battle and that's where it ends. there is no 113th chapter of Soul Eater. hypothetically, if there was a 113th chapter where a funeral for Lord Death and a coronation ceremony for Kid took place, those events would probably take place within the second and third week of January.

here is the summary of the entire timeline:

November (1): very beginning of the manga, Crona and Medusa's introduction, Masamune is defeated

December (1): Medusa puts the snakes in Eruka, Free is released from witch prison and he fights Maka and gang on the bridge, winter break for the students?

January (1): essentially nothing, come back from an assumed winter break

February (1): super written exam

March (1): Nidhogg mission

April (1): Kishin revives on the eve of DWMA's anniversary, Maka befriends Crona, the Death Scythes (Maria, Azusa, and Justin) arrive, Crona trial day at school, Arachne wakes up and Maka is paralyzed, Black☆Star fights Mifune for the second time and gets the candy

May (1): Maka gets better from being paralyzed, Medusa possesses Rachel, runaway train, Medusa approaches Crona again

June (1): Kid realizes the copy of the Book of Eibon is missing, Crona puts the snake in Marie's drink, Lost Island Brew Tempest mission, BJ shows up and instantly is murdered, Crona runs away from DWMA

July (1): Maka meets the Clown in the factory, Medusa surrenders herself, Kim and Jackie run away and join Arachnophobia for a minute, Baba Yaga mission, Kid gets sucked into the Book of Eibon, Kim and Angela are allowed to stay at DWMA

August (1): everyone recovers and gets strong after Baba Yaga

September (1): Soul becomes a Death Scythe, Maka and Soul learn how to fly, Gopher tries to kill Maka

October (1): Witch's Research mission, Spartoi goes into the Book of Eibon to rescue Kid

November (2): Crona kills the Death Scythe in Moscow, Crona destroys a city in the Ukraine, Justin kills Tezca, Crona kills Medusa

December (2): Kid goes to the Lost Island to talk to Eibon, Crona is put on Lord Death's list, Maka senses the Kishin on the moon, construction of the air ship is started

January (2): Maka finds Crona in the church in Italy, the moon battle begins and ends, Lord Death dies and Kid is named the new Shinigami.

and that is the end!! if you've made it to the end of my madman rambling, please converse with me if you have any thoughts on this. DM, reblog, reply, whatever, let me know what you think. it took me multiple days to write all this up and actually look through the manga thoroughly enough to kinda figure out how and where everything happens. i did it out of pure frustration that it's hard to tell the order of things and i'm glad i found a way to make it make a bit more sense

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. For the Next Fic Finder:

Looking for a time travel fic in which older WWX travels back to past Lotus Pier, the Jiang family then decides it would be better to have older xian be introduced as younger xians older brother. Older!WWX also comes with them at CR in which he befriended LXC and later NMJ and change both of their opinions regarding resentful energy.

P.S I think there was also a chapter where he went "missing" but he was just with the Dafan Wens and just really missed them in his depressed state.

FOUND! MingYu by Fino_Al_Cielo (T, 87k, WWX & LWJ, YL WWX, yunmeng siblings, Fix-It of Sorts, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, PTSD, References to Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Trauma)

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2. Hello! Looking for two specific modern AU fics

A) Posted on twitter where Wei Ying kept bothering LWJ on the length of her skirt (it was a genderbend fic)

B) Posted on instagram. LWJ and WWX were both models, WWX were kidnapped and tortured at one point because of jealous Jin Zixun

Thank you in advance for the help! @hid9884

2A)

FOUND? this thread by @/3neetee

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3. Hi can you help me find a fanfic?? um wei wuxian works at a sex shop and lan wangji comes in to close it down bc his parents own it but end up falling in love where as jiang cheng works at a bar where lan xichen fall inlove w/ him and wei wuxian crazy ex (jenny I think) tries to kill him??

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4. hiii ! i’m looking for a fic where it’s set in post canon, i think, and it’s about wei changze confronting jiang cheng about everything wei wuxian went through. There was a scene where he talks about experiencing being whipped by zidian through wwx bc at his desperate times, wwx unknowingly calls for his parents and wcz was able to connect with him somehow and that’s how he saw the things that happened in wwx’s life. tysm!!! @makkachiin

FOUND! Chapter 24 of Short Prompts by Vrishchika

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5. I'm looking for a shapeshifting fic. LWJ was a rabbit and WWX a fox. LWJ ended up transforming out of stress, and bumped into WWX who took him home on his fox back and later kept visiting him. WWX was also staying in the woods and keeping things at NHS's house. I've searched through my history but I can't find it so I'm scared it's been deleted. @flaxenhairedsamurai

I don't remember what 5 is called but someone else was looking for it semi recently

FOUND! This Twitter fic by @/Zizzani

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6. I'm looking for a modern AU where the characters work in various emergency services. I remember that the first chapters focused a lot on WWX, and I *think* that later chapters switched to a focus on Meng Yao/JGY. I specifically remember a scene where WWX climbs up a stuck rollercoaster or Ferris wheel, and someone he tries to save falls and dies. He was maybe a firefighter? And LWJ was maybe an EMT?

FOUND! 🧡 Like a House on Fire by KouriArashi (T, 82k, WangXian, Modern au, Paramedics, Firefighters, Light angst, Mutual pining, Kid fic, Past drug use, Past child abuse, Families of choice, Domestic fluff)

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7. I want to find a Wangxian A/B/O fanfic It was very long and angsty about Wei Wuxian being an Omega Cultivator where they are expected to be locked up inside. It had a one-sided Jin Zixuan x Wei Wuxian and a really bad scene with Wen Chao. Its no longer in ao3 but i cant remember the author reposted it

FOUND? and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow (Prologue – Index) (E, 303k, off-screen rape, oppression, violence, sexual assault, grief/mourning, unwanted pregnancy., A/B/O)

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8. looking for a modern au fic, cant remember the title but the description on ao3 had something about a taxi driver noticing a bruise on wei ying and mentioning that the person will hurt him again. there was a suicide attempt i think, due to the jiang family abuse, and lan zhan was his neighbour!

FOUND? like a fox in tall grass by notinamillionyears, starcrushedjewels (notinamillionyears) (E, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide Attempt, Drug Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors, College/University, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Anxiety Attacks, Pianist LWJ, Smoking, Trauma, Explicit Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Identity Issues, Age Difference, Power Dynamics, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating Disorders, Mutual Pining, Consensual Non-Consent, Sleeping Together, Suicidal Ideation, Bipolar Disorder, implied manic depression)

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9. hello im looking for a fic where jzx asks wangxian for help and there's a cursed building? and mxy is in it or in the center of it and they rescue him. that's about all i remember sorry. appreciate any help tho ♥️

hello im the last ff anon #9. sorry but the suggestion isn't it. i distinctly remember it being a cursed building, or maybe a watch tower maybe? and mxy was inside it. wangxian are already married iirc also a bunch of jins died in that building i think? bc of the resentful energy?

hello ff anon #9 again. to answer anon's question, mxy isn't a spirit. he's alive in the fic and i think he follows wangxian after he was rescued? i appreciate all the help that's coming y'all are so cool

NOT FOUND! 9 sounds like it might be Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives au, romance, developing relationship, family, sibling bonding, light angst, politics, attempted sexual assault, some murder, people talking about their feelings, trauma processing) although the rescue is in a mine not a building

for #9, is MXY a ghost/spirit that needed liberating/sending off?

FOUND? quiet, blooming hours by Sanguis (T, 13k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern AU, Magical Realism, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Family Feels, Background Relationships, Resurrection, Adoption) Idk if #9 could be ...the house is somewhat cursed and the jins are involved but not the way anon describes. Wangxian is established though

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10. Hi, I hope you can find me find this wonderful fic where WWX used an array to make everyone forget about him. He succeeded with his plan but the people who initially knew him (JC, JFM, JYL, even Madam Yu, basically everyone) always subconsiously thinks of him like something or someone is missing in their lives. Eventually, JC, LWJ, and LXC realized that someone must've erased their memory of that person so they tried their best to undo the curse or the array.

FOUND? Remember by Amona (T, 57k, JC & WWX, wangxian, Canon Divergence, self-sacrifice, erasing oneself from history, colored souls, sword spirits, major angst w happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, minor character death, WIP)

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11. Hi, I'm searching for a modern au fic where WWX was gonna have an abortion, and LWJ offered to drive him to his appointment. He said that he'd help him because his mother had no choice or something like that. It's a one shot, I think, not much happens, appart from that.

FOUND! baby let's take the long way home by plonk (Not rated, 10k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, abortion, mpreg, with a twist, enemies to lovers)

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12. Does anyone remember that fic where lwj is a goth DJ at a bar? And wwx keeps trying to meet him or hang out with him? Lwj is ruder than usual I think. I might be mixing up two different fics but in the one I’m thinking of lwj gives wwx a ride home late at night… it’s driving me crazy- I thought I had saved it!

FOUND! The Quiet Room by trickybonmot (M, 39k, wangxian, modern, 1990s, goth LWJ, cellist LWJ, college student WWX, house hunting, dating, clubbing, implied/referenced past child abuse, mental health issues, academic disaster aftermath, getting together, homelessness)

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13. First of all, thank you for all your work, you're awesome!! Second, I'd like to ask for your help to find a fic. it's ABO where omegas are like really rare and sacred in the cultivation world, wwx is an omega but for some reason he hides it until it all comes out about the time he's in the burial mounds with the Wen, and that's when the sects finally believe him and take his side bc omegas always stand for what's right and true or smt. Thanks!!

FOUND! Woven fates by apathyinreverie (T, 10k, wangxian, ABO, alpha LWJ, omega WWX, fix-it, fluff, family, romance, mates) it has the "omegas always stand for what’s right and true," but wwx wasn't hiding it, he just didn't present until he felt safe and then ran into lwj again / WWX wasn't actively hiding being an omega though, but only presented while in the burial mounds.

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14. Hello i'm looking for a fic where wei ying enters a mating run on a dare(or bet) and if you survive the run you get $50,000 if lan Wanji chooses you, you get $1 million. There is also some orginized crime aspects to the fic

FOUND? Five Fifteen by 3neetee (M, 11k, wangxian, rape/non-con, ABO, modern, alpha LWJ, alpha WWX, mating runs, graphic descriptions of violence, dom/sub undertones, light bondage, implied mpreg, dark LWJ, betrayal, smut, dark lans, unreliable narrator WWX) locked

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15. Hello for the next fic finder can you please help me find a fic where Wei Wuxian loses his memories after an accident. I remember WWX and LWJ were engaged and they were going to marry and LQR hired a private investigator and the accuses WWX of cheating and everyone believes him. But it was actually WWX meeting Wen Qing to discuss adopting A-Yuan. WWX keeps it a secret because he wanted to surprise LWJ when they get married with the adoption papers. Anyways after they accuse him of cheating WWX runs out and gets hits by a vehicle and loses his memories. It was a modern AU.

Thank you for all the help you do for us. @mybestfriendisacinnamonroll​

FOUND? (Un)forgettable by Edens_Cat & VividestList (E, 67k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, modern, misunderstandings, angst w/ happy ending, kid fic, teacher WWX, single parent WWX, amnesia, protective WQ, protective LSZ, smut)

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16. Hi! I am not sure if this has been asked before but I'm looking for this fic where Lan Yuan grew up as the Jiang sect heir because Jiang Cheng got to him before Lan Zhan. I could remember there are several kids in the Burial Mounds and one of them was adopted into the Lan sect as a healer. And the rest (there were three of them ig???) were basically hiding in the Jiang sect unbeknownst to Jiang Cheng. I really really loved that fic but I can't remember much from it and I want to read it again. Thaaaaanks!!

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts) sounds like this one, but a-yuan is still with the Lan. The kids at the Jiang sect and the healer at the Lan sect match though

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17. I think it was very Nie Huaisang centric and short, but I can’t remember anything other than a few lines near the end where NHS was remembering that JGY hadn’t taken into account that LXC had known him since he was a kid and would trust and defend him.

The line I remember is something like “NHS remembers being passed back and forth between LXC and NMJ like a particularly beloved parcel” referring to LXC practically adopting him as a second little brother.

Thank you!

FOUND! Chapter 32 of Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) you're looking for chapter 32 of twelve moons and a fortnight by stilton basket.

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18. Hello, can you help find this fic? The back story in this fic is yzy is cheating with wcz and wwx is yzy'son with wcz. After wwx born he was cast aside and yzy pregnant with soon after with jfm as the fathet. Wcz become a rogue cultivator while raising wwx and he meet csr. In the first chapter i think wwx is kinda kicked out by bssr to make him meet with his sibling in cloud recesses and make a peace with them. I think he introduce himself as a-xian (or it is a-ying? But i think it was a-xian). I think that's all i can remember. Thank you!

FOUND! The Undesirable Son by FragranceLotion97 (G, 34k, WangXian, CQL but WWX is Madam Yu's Bastard Son, It goes differently from the beginning, WWX becomes sworn brother with lxc then becomes his in law, LWJ is still whipped, There is Yin Iron, Heavily CQL with a little mix from the novel, Adding donghua into the fandom because i decide to use a lot of things from there)

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19. For the next fic finder: can you help me find a fic where wwx falls in the lake when they’re fighting the abyss, and everyone believes he dies. Weeks (or maybe months) pass, and then he washes up on the shore of the lake, somehow still alive. I think it might have been Lan Xichen pov, and he was blaming himself for losing wwx since he was in charge of the hunt.

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20. Looking for a fic where WWX was Baoshan Sanren’s disciple (I think) and they were doing demonstrations. WWX went through all major sects’. The one I remember clearly is that the Lan style was war

FOUND! Become Tomorrow by  ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, cloud recesses study arc, BSSR's disciple WWX)

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[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Come What May, Ch. 1

Summary: While completely improvised, Gabriel’s plan to transfer his memories in the container fly before erasure was rather solid. It came very close to working, too. But ‘close’ was not enough. [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2] Characters: Gabriel, Beelzebub, Crowley, Aziraphale, Murien, Michael, Uriel, Saraquael Rating: T   All chapters will be tagged as ‘come what may’ on my blog.

A/N: Beelzebub is Concerned and about to make it everyone else's problem.

***

[Back to Prologue]

***

“So, after I’m done writing, I check this box…”

“Yep.”

“... roll the parchment up like this, seal it…”

“Yep.”

“... aaand place it here. Yes?”

“Yes! You’re doing brilliant, Jibreel - and in just three days!”

As the parchment faded in a gleam of light, safely filed away and archived for all eternity, Muriel couldn’t help but clap a little. It was a simple task, but Jibreel looked very happy to have accomplished it, and she was very happy to see him looking very happy. Or to see anyone happy. Or to see anyone, period. So honestly, the clapping felt warranted. 

He grinned back, widely. “Thanks! I think I did good. Felt good.”

“You’ll be up to 37th class in no time at all! Get your own office and all.”

“Oh, I hope not. I like it here,” he replied, and sat back. He looked around and their white surroundings, at the empty surface before him. “... What now?”

“Oh! Now’s the exciting part! We wait for more things to come through that we can sort, record, and add to the archive.”

“That’s great! When are they coming?”

“Ah, we… we don’t know that, actually. Sometimes it’s a lot in a day! And sometimes it’s very little in a year. We’re in a bit of a slump now. The record was fifty years of nothing, back in the fifth century. Never had such a long empty stretch since, though.”

“Oh.” Jibreel frowned a little, looking around again. “So, what do we do now?”

Muriel tried to smile, but it was… a little bit forced. “Now we wait.”

“Right! I can wait. I’m good at waiting, I think.”

“Great!”

A few minutes passed. Muriel was used to long periods of just sitting there in silence, but it seemed… odd to do that, now that she was not alone. She shifted a little before speaking again. “So, um. What did you do before?”

“Before?”

“Before you were assigned to this post. Were you part of the Earth observation team?”

Jibreel narrowed his eyes, thinking hard. “I… don’t think so?”

“Oh. Well, surely you had a duty before?”

“I guess I must have? Everyone does, right?”

“You mean-- you don’t remember?”

“I remember coming here.” A frown. “An elevator, I think? I was standing near an elevator. Then that nice angel… the one earlier…” the frown deepened, and he rubbed his head as though in pain. That was odd, Muriel thought. It wasn’t an angel thing, to be in any pain. 

“Saraqael?” she asked.

“No, another one. I… I can’t recall. She came over and gave me new clothes, then she told me my name and that other one - Saraqael - took me here.”

“And it’s the first thing you remember?”

Jibreel nodded, and Muriel couldn’t help but wonder what that was all about. It was unusual, to say the least. “Oh.”

“That’s… not normal?”

“Ah-- no, no, it’s… I mean, I never heard… but I don’t see a lot of angels, you know! So maybe it’s perfectly normal!” 

The confused frown disappeared, quickly as it had come, and Muriel quickly changed subject. “Oh, I know what we can do! I can help you practice what to say if someone comes in to ask for information! They do that sometimes. Last time was two hundred years ago.”

“Oh?” “Yes! So someone could need us anytime now!”

Another bright smile, and Jibreel stood. “On it! So, what do I do?”

“All right, so you’ll be the one asking, and I’ll reply, so you see how it’s done.”

“Great! What do I ask?”

“Oh, uh… say you need to double check directive C3483, paragraph 53, comma 89.”

“Perfect!”

As Jibreel stood to do as instructed neither of them noticed the fly buzzing quietly above them, one small dark dot in the endless whiteness.

***

“... Well. He does get to have a desk now, I suppose.”

“About half of one, but yes.”

“And he’s settled well?”

“He’s been learning his new duties with no incident. He seems rather content.”

“That’s good to know, Saraqael. I would not have wished him to be displeased with his new role. He has served Heaven well for thousands of years.”

“Of course. None of us would want that.”

A brief silence, and Michael moved her gaze from Saraqael to Uriel, who was staring out one of the windows, rigid and silent. Michael had to wonder whether it was all annoyance over the fact she had been right when she’d pointed out that Gabriel did not have, nor had ever had, a desk. He had indeed tried to make a run for it; Uriel had found him standing in front of the elevator, staring blankly at it, his jacket and shirt already off. 

Where he had tried to go was anybody’s guess. Perhaps he’d simply become scared they would cast him down to Hell after all. But his fear had been for nothing: he would remain in Heaven, where he belonged, getting his chance to start anew. 

“All’s well that ends well,” Michael said in the end. “Now we can focus on the preparation for Armageddon. I will re-establish diplomatic relations so we can agree on a time and--”

“Saraqael,” Uriel spoke, cutting her off like she hadn’t been speaking at all. “We have never attempted a complete memory wipe, let alone on someone as high ranking as a supreme archangel before. Are you certain it has worked as intended?”

A slightly offended scoff. “Of course it has. You saw him, didn’t you? Not a spark of recognition. I know what I’m doing.”

“I did not mean to offend,” Uriel replied, with the tone of someone whose concerns are not yet entirely eased. “I am not familiar with the procedure, and am asking you to confirm it has worked as intended.”

“It did. All his memories as the archangel Gabriel are gone from his mind.”

“From his mind.”

Ah. Michael could now see what it was that concerned Uriel. She frowned, and looked back at Saraqael. “I don’t suppose they could be destroyed from any plane of existence?”

A light scoff. “Nothing which belongs in Heaven can be downright destroyed. Unless we use hellfire, but it’s not an option with memories - not that it worked too well on an angel when you last tried, from what I heard,” Saraqael pointed out, very much aware of how little Michael and Uriel liked being reminded of that particular fiasco. “Destroying an angel’s memories like they have never been is beyond even the abilities of Metatron. God alone may wield such power.”

Michael and Uriel exchanged a quick glance. In the end, it was Uriel to speak. “... No need to bother God with any of this,” she said, as though God had answered to any of their messages in the past six thousand years. 

Saraqael nodded.

“Of course not. Besides, if destroying them is beyond anyone’s scope but God’s, so is retrieving them,” she pointed out. “Even if he knew he had memories to retrieve, which he does not, it would require a miracle whose power by far surpasses Gabriel’s own.”

“... There is no Gabriel, Saraqael.”

“Of course not,” she replied with a nod, and Michael nodded back. 

“Very well. We can consider the matter sorted. Now, as I was saying, if we’re to decide a new date for Armageddon, we should resume diplomatic contact with--”

The phone she’d left on the nearest surface lit up, and began to vibrate. She looked down at the name on the display, and raised an eyebrow. 

Well, she thought. Speak of the literal devil.

***

“Michael.”

“Lord Beelzebub, what a surprise. To what do I owe the displeasu--”

“I’m not speaking with you. Get me the moron in chief.”

“... I don’t believe we have such a title here,” Michael said, her already cold voice turning to frost. “Perhaps if you’d like to specify--”

“I demand to speak with Gabriel.”

“I am afraid that’s not possible.”

Beelzebub ground their teeth so hard that their jaw creaked. The grip on the phone became tight enough to crack the screen. They loathed making the call, but it had been three days since they first received that message upon trying to contact Gabriel, and they could no longer bear it. “Then make it possible, or I’ll give you plenty of excellent reasons to be afraid.”

“There’s no reason to be even more unpleasant than you usually are,” was the reply, without the slightest hint of intimidation. Not that Beelzebub had expected it to work. Michael was considered Heaven’s mightiest warrior for a reason. Her reputation for single-handedly throwing Satan himself down into the abyss was somewhat exaggerated, but not by much. “Whatever it is you wish to discuss with him, it can be discussed with me.”

“No, it cannot.”

“May I ask why not?”

Because you’re hiding something. Because this is all kinds of wrong. Where is he?

They wanted to say all that and more, scream and threaten, demand to know what was going on, but they did not. It would mean showing their hand early and that was something they could not afford. If Michael found out she had an edge on them, they’d never get answers. 

So, in the end, they said something else entirely. “You’re too far below me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you wish, but I pardon nothing. I only discuss with my equals, or the closest to an equal to be found within your ranks. It’s the supreme archangel, or no one.”

“Then I fear I’ll need to disappoint you,” Michael replied, sounding all too pleased about it. “At the moment, the position is vacant.”

The gnawing worry that had been eating away at Beelzebub’s already rather rotted guts turned to something else, cold and dark and suffocating. Vacant? It couldn’t be vacant. It had never been vacant. It’s never a good sign for a position in Heaven or Hell to become vacant. 

Where is he? What happened to him? What have you done?

The urge to scream returned, bubbling and buzzing up their throat, but they held it back, gnashing their teeth. They had to keep calm. Show Michael a single weakness, and it is over.

“What the Heaven do you mean, vacant? Heaven has never been without its supreme archangel.”

“It is temporary. Until someone else is appointed.”

Did they know? Did they find out? It seemed the most logical explanation, but at the same time Michael was saying nothing. Surely, if she knew - if Heaven knew Gabriel had been fraternizing with them - she’d be rubbing it in their face, wouldn’t she? Gabriel himself, the absolute moron he was, had never been concerned by the possibility. 

“What’s the worst they could do? Throw me down to Hell for you to deal with? Oh, the horror.”

“Oh, not afraid I might make you regret it?”

“Not even if you try your worst.”

“Where is Gabriel?” Beelzebub snapped, unable to hold back. Thankfully they snapped a lot, and the barked order came across as annoyance rather than growing dread. They were not new to dread, running Hell and all, but this was different from any type of dread they’d ever encountered or felt before. It’s the kind of dread of someone who stands to lose something. 

“Gabriel has been called to a different task.”

“What task?”

“It is confidential,” was the response. “Now, what did you intend to discu--”

The call ended abruptly. Throwing a phone at the wall - or in this case, the thick glass screen overseeing Hell - will usually cause that.

The crash caused a couple of demons to wince and turn, and a single snarl from Beelzebub was enough to get them quickly back to work. They stepped away from the glass and began pacing, trying to clear their mind. At the moment, the only clear thing was that they had absolutely no future in the field of diplomatic relations; everything else was a maelstrom of confusion and fear unlike anything they had experienced before.

Gabriel had disappeared, that was a fact. And he had disappeared without a word to them, his phone disconnected, leaving the position of Supreme Archangel vacant. 

Gabriel was missing, and Heaven was hiding the reason why. Called to a different task, Michael had said, but something about her tone had told Beelzebub precisely what they needed to know, and had feared to hear. Gabriel had been removed from office, and yet he had not been cast down to Hell. 

So where was he? He had to be somewhere, it’s not like they could destroy an archangel. They had no means to do such a thing in Heaven, unless… unless…

Hellfire. The hellfire they had given them four years earlier, to deal with their own traitor. The one who had first worked to prevent Armageddon, just as Gabriel had done later.

We never took that fire back. What if they chose the same sentence, for the same crime?

Beelzebub stopped pacing as though struck. They saw it with the mind’s eye, Gabriel screaming in flames they had delivered to Heaven before being reduced to nothing, utterly destroyed. Gone. 

With no warning, the core itself of Hell shook and flames flared higher. Demons yelped in surprise and damned souls cried out in terror, but any sound they made was drowned out by a screeching cry blackest fury, deepest hatred, and utter pain. The glass screen cracked and shattered, and a swarm of flies burst forth, a black mass drowning out the cries of damned and demons alike even as the screeching scream faded in a low, guttural growl. 

They’ll pay for it. I’ll start the war here and now. Rules be damned. Agreements be damned. Warnings be damned. We’ll scorch Heaven and Earth with hellfire and I’ll see them scream and die, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll-- I--

A soft buzzing sound, and a single fly landed on Beelzebub’s hand, which was balled into a tight fist. They looked at it, still growling and shaking, and suddenly they found themself thinking of another fly entirely. The container, their gift to Gabriel. The first gift he’d ever received, he had told them, with that oddly vulnerable expression they had never seen on him before. The first gift, and also the last.

… Or was it?

Beelzebub breathed in and then slowly out, staring at that single fly to keep themself grounded, to focus on the memory of Gabriel as they’d last seen him - whole and well, smiling at them before stepping in the elevator, rather than screaming in a column of hellfire.

Maybe they hadn’t destroyed him. Maybe there was another explanation; if other angels realized he was purposefully blocking Armageddon from taking place, he may very well have become a prisoner. If Beelzebub decided to lay waste on Heaven now, and he was there, he may be destroyed with all the rest. No, they could not act on impulse. They had to think he was still alive, and act accordingly. They had to find out what precisely had happened in Heaven, covertly. Sneakily. 

And they knew one demon with heavenly ties who was very, very good at sneaking around.

***

There are few places and moments in life, Crowley reasoned, when a swarm of flies manifesting out of thin air is convenient. Inside a Bentley which was currently speeding through an intersection while passing a school bus was neither one of those places, nor one of those moments.

“Been a long time, Crowley.”

“Oh, come o--!”

“Bus ahead.”

To his credit, Crowley managed to swerve around the bus in question despite the flies clouding his vision; by the time he shoved the Bentley in the first available empty space at the side of the road, cutting in front of three cars and a truck in the process, the flies had finished coming together and someone else sat in the car with him.

Someone Crowley had kind of hoped never to have to see again. “Lord Beelzebub. What do I owe the-- huh. New face?”

“New face,” was the response, in the tone of someone who’d really rather not waste another second talking about it. “I’m here to give you a new mission.”

Ah. “I’m fairly sure Shax said I’m still persona non grata in Hell.”

“You are. And you have the chance to change it. Actually, you have the chance to become a Duke of Hell.”

Crowley blinked, then slid the sunglasses down his nose for a better look at the Lord of the Flies. Maybe it was the new face, but they seemed animated in a way he had never seen before. They seemed worried, working their jaw and smoothing down their jacket in quick, nervous gestures before looking back at him. That in itself worried him in turn. If something was up causing such concern for Beelzebub of all demons, then everyone else probably would have good reason to be terrified. 

“That’s… flattering, but--”

“A full pardon. A place in the Dark Council. Whatever your nasty little heart desires, you shall have it.”

“Why turn to me--”

“To you, and your pet angel.”

There were several words Crowley may have used to describe Aziraphale, but pet was not about them. As he choked on his own spit, Beelzebub spoke again - louder, quicker, and more urgent. 

“Listen. You and the angel betrayed Hell and Heaven both solely to stop Armageddon. You don’t want to see your efforts go to waste, no? Because there is talk of starting it anew.”

“What-- without the Antichrist?”

“Without the Antichrist. Just plain war, no less devastating. Do you want to stop it or not?”

“I-- is that a trick question?”

“I don’t do trick questions. I want to enlist your help to find the archangel Gabriel, and keep Armageddon from coming to pass.”

As far as Crowley was concerned, Lord Beelzebub couldn’t have put together a more nonsensical string of words if they’d picked them at random from a dictionary and then put them through an online translator from English to Aramaic to Greek and then back to English. 

“... What?”

“You heard me.”

“You wanted to start the Armageddon--”

“My priorities have shifted, but I do believe yours have stayed the same. You want Earth to survive, I want to find Gabriel. Our goals conveniently coincide. What more do you need?”

“I am sorry. Are you actively trying to make as little sense as possible? Because--”

Beelzebub snarled, it was enough for him to fall silent. The Lord of the Flies took a moment to draw in a deep breath before they spoke again, with forced calm. “I will explain everything to you and the angel. Take me to him.”

“No.”

“... I’m going to pretend I have not heard and give you one more chance to--”

“No demon but me is crossing that bookshop’s threshold.”

Some furious buzzing, and Crowley gripped the wheel tighter, waiting for severe pain, but it never came. Instead, Beelzebub just ground their teeth. “I have no interest in harming him.”

“Given the precedents, you’ll forgive me for being cautious,” Crowley replied. He fully expected fury, truth be told, but was once again surprised. Lord Beelzebub seemed to hesitate a moment, and finally nodded.

“... Very well. I forgive nothing, but I understand. Tell him we’ll meet on neutral ground.”

“Riiiiight. Well, I’ll see when he’s free and ask him--”

“Call him now,” Beelzebub cut him off, and looked him in the eye. “If you want your precious Earth to survive, you’ll waste no further time.”

In the end, he didn’t waste any time. Honestly, it didn’t feel like he had that much of a choice.

***

There was something up there. 

Jibreel noticed it while leaning back on the chair, careful not to put his feet up on the desk because Muriel had said he shouldn’t do it. They weren't there now - they’d left saying they wanted to look at something in the archives, and reassuring him he was ready to handle any work that came through - but he wouldn’t do something they didn’t want him to. They had been really nice to him.

But he was bored, just sitting there on his own, so he’d slumped back and looked up - and there it was. A… well, he wasn’t sure. It was something that moved in quick circles above him, small and dark as everything else was white and vast. He frowned a little and, without thinking, held up a hand.

There was no real reason why the thing should come to him, but it did. It floated down to rest on the tip of his fingers, buzzing softly, and Jibreel brought it closer to his face to have a look. It was a… what was the name? A fly, right? Yes, he was almost sure that was it. Funny, that. He didn’t think there were any flies in Heaven. They usually were on Earth, or at least he guessed so. He had never been on Earth, as far as he could recall - which to be fair wasn’t long. But somehow, he knew flies were not supposed to be there. 

Hell, maybe - were there flies in Hell? Yes, somehow Jibreel was fairly sure that there were a lot of flies in Hell, too. He had definitely never been there himself, though.

The fly on his fingers buzzed, but didn’t fly off, and Jibreel found himself smiling at it. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but of course there was no response other than more soft buzzing. It was kind of cute, seen up close. Jibreel smiled again. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know. But I won’t tell. It will be our secret and all,” he added, feeling rather giddy at the idea of having something as forbidden as a secret. He winked at the fly, which didn’t bother to wink back before taking flight again. But it stayed right above him, and Jibreel was absurdly certain it was not going to leave. 

For some reason, it put an even wider smile on his face. He leaned back on the seat and kept following the fly with his gaze, unblinking and unthinking, until he found himself humming, tapping a foot on the floor. 

“Everyday, it’s-a getting closer…”

***

A good cup of tea, Aziraphale firmly believed, could smooth over just about any type of crisis. Or at least make it feel like less of a crisis. Failing that, hot chocolate would usually succeed. 

However, he recognized that there were few, particularly dire instances in which neither tea nor hot chocolate could help. In such cases, coffee would be needed - possibly with a good dollop of something sweet added to it. 

Only after sitting down next to Crowley at Nina’s coffee shop, the records Maggie had given him under his arm and Crowley as well as the literal Lord of the Flies sitting across them, did he wonder about the wisdom of giving Beelzebub caffeine. But as they never so much as touched the cup, he supposed he would never find out whether it was a mistake. That, and soon enough the theoretical effect of caffeine on hellish royalty was the least of his worries. 

“Heaven and Hell want to push ahead with Armageddon - again - and you and Gabriel wanted to stop it?”

“Yes,” Beelzebub replied, and silenced the question that followed with a gesture. “We changed our mind. The reason why is none of your concern, before you ask, but I do believe our goals align and--”

“And now he’s missing and his seat is vacant?” Aziraphale cut them off, bewildered. That gained him a markedly unimpressed look. 

“... Is there a specific reason why you’re repeating everything I have told you so far?”

“It’s a lot to wrap one’s mind around, I’m sure you can agree?” Crowley spoke, the casual leaning in his seat doing very little to hide how tense it was. “You and Gabriel both tried really hard to make Armageddon happen. When it didn’t, and decided it was our fault, you sort of tried just as hard to destroy us.”

Beelzebub had the good sense to look… if certainly not awkward, at least a little tense themself. Aziraphale set his jaw, not about to say anything to smooth things over now; he had never forgotten the casual order the Lord of the Flies had given to have a bystander demon destroyed in holy water solely to test it, nor the indifference when they had sentenced Crowley to die the same gruesome way. It was nothing he had not expected from Hell, truth be told, but it had been rather upsetting. 

On his end, Crowley had never quite told him the details of the attempt at carrying out the same sentence in Heaven; only that he had been told to step in hellfire and had surprised the archangels present by breathing a little bit of it in their direction, which had been a rather amusing mental image. 

“Well. You were not destroyed, and you don’t wish Earth to be either. It is in everyone’s best interest if we collaborate. And by everyone’s, I mean that of all sitting at this table.”

“Are we supposed to believe that you’ve grown a soft spot for Earth?”

A scoff. “Obviously not. This is not about Earth. It’s what you care about.”

“What is it about for you, then?”

For the first time since that odd meeting had started, Lord Beelzebub seemed to hesitate. They worked their jaw briefly, clearly debating whether or not they should be truthful. It was an odd inner conflict to see play out on a being Aziraphale had always known as a powerful but distant foe, but it did not last long. Beelzebub seemed to come to a decision and leaned forward, elbows on the table. 

“For me, it’s about Gabriel. They did something to him. I am sure they did.”

“Seems likely,” Crowley muttered, not really distraught. “Still don’t get what that’s to y--”

“I want him back,” Beelzebub cut him off. The last word of Crowley’s sentence - you - turned into a choked out ‘uuuh?’ before he fell silent, staring at the Lord of the Flies with his mouth hanging open. It gained him a raised eyebrow. “Close that mouth before flies get in it. That is a threat.”

Crowley closed his mouth so abruptly his teeth clicked together, then hurriedly took a sip from his coffee. As for Aziraphale, he found himself staring with wide eyes as realization dawned on him. Beelzebub had a soft spot all right, but not for Earth. It was for Gabriel.

That was not what he’d expected to hear, although to be fair he was not sure what he’d even thought this could be about. In retrospect, everything in Beelzebub’s behavior seemed to scream a connection to the missing archangel that went well beyond a professional relationship. In the end, he cleared his throat and took a sip from his coffee.

“Not to pry, but I seem to understand yourself and Gabriel have grown, um. Close?”

“In a way neither Heaven nor Hell would approve, hence why I had to turn to you.” A long look, their gaze shifting from his to Crowley and then back, and they cocked their head. “Certainly, I don’t need to explain more. It’s not something unfamiliar to the two of you.”

The coffee Crowley had been sipping was promptly sprayed back inside the mug. Aziraphale nearly spilled in own mug, stammering. 

“I, I mean-- we do go way back, so I suppose-- we have an understanding, but--”

Beelzebub silenced him with a gesture. “I don’t care to hear it. All I care about is finding out where Gabriel is and what was done to him, and taking him back. Help me, and I’ll hold off Armageddon until a more permanent solution to avoid it is found. Do we have a deal?”

A pause, a quick glance between the two of them. 

Do we have a choice?, Aziraphale’s look said.

Not really, Crowley’s replied, and that was that.

***

“Oh, I really shouldn't have even come here…”

No one was there to hear Muriel’s anxious whine, but they slapped both hands over their mouth anyway, just in case. Not that they were doing anything forbidden, per se - they were authorized to search the archive, after all - but it still seemed wrong, to have doubts over the word of an archangel. It wasn’t even real doubts, they just had… questions. 

One big question, really - why did Jibreel remember nothing from his existence before he’d been taken to work with them as a junior recording angel? It had been bothering them more than it probably should, and they had considered asking someone higher up, but… well. Surely they had better things to do than answering a silly question, no? It was probably nothing important, they’d thought. 

They could find out on their own, sate their curiosity and then be back. 

Except that things had taken an unexpected turn, because they had found a folder marked with his name - Jibreel - but it really wasn’t like they had expected. A junior recording angel’s folder is never very full, simply because… well, there is not a lot to record about those working on records, so to speak. It was a fairly uneventful job and it made for an uneventful eternity, overall. Muriel’s own folder had only about two pages to it. 

Jibreel’s folder was nothing like that. It didn’t look thicker than normal, but as they picked it up there was a weight to it that told them it was much, much fuller than their own. Much fuller than any other folder they’d handled, really - there had to be a lot in there.

And, they soon realized, they couldn’t open it. It was classified, and required a much higher clearance - like a throne or a dominion, or something even above that. 

They wouldn’t classify the folder of a simple junior recording angel, would they? Not with such high clearance. There is a lot more to Jibreel than even he knows.

It was a rather baffling development, and more than a little intimidating, really. Muriel didn’t know what it was all about and to be honest, they really wished she hadn’t wondered in the first place. It was much too above them. Surely, if Jibreel did not recall his past, there was a good reason for it. Who were they to question the decisions of archangels?

They would just walk out, go back to their station, and never utter a word of this to anyone - much less to Jibreel. After all, he’d never asked them to look anything up; he’d never asked a thing, and he was happy as a clam.

Muriel saw no reason to open their mouth and risk changing that.

***

[Back to Prologue]

[On to Chapter 2]

[f0xgl0v3]

Seeing as I’ve been dreading doing the SoN re-write post because I don’t have the full outline done, I present,

SoN Re-Write; what I have done so far done in really informal terms

(P.S this is really long sorry guys-)

The Brain vomit ‘I think that’s how I wrote it in my notebook’ with all of the silly bits instead of it being more formal because I can leave the more ‘official’ I guess one for later when I do have the entire story outline roughly done. Anyway,

We start out with a sort of maybe prologue? I like prologues and they can help set up the story (I know tLH is going to have prologue type thing that’s Hera doing Hera stuff) but this prologue starts at the end of Percy’s wolfhouse training. He’s waking up from an Annabeth dream, he gets up and notices that both the pack and his training buddy are just.. gone? He walks through and sees Lupa, who says something something about like Rome and then gives the vague directions on how to get to Camp and it’s like “go south :3”

Then we’re at the stretch to get into Camp Jupiter it’s pretty much how chapter 1 of SoN goes down. Maybe we get word that Percy has like a backpack or something (so stuff like the pillow pet and where that’s been makes more sense because I forget how they explain Percy having the pillow pet goes down) and we like slash slash at the Gorgons and they reform, showing that something’s up and soon enough he’s running down and spots Calcedott tunnel and the two legionnaires (Hazel and Frank) freak for a second and call for him to get over to them.

Percy gets over to Hazel and Frank; who take him through the tunnels. It’s being debated if I want Hazel to collapse Calcedott (Is that what she does in the book? I don’t really remember-) to set up Hazel and her like, power. But Hazel is busy collapsing tunnels and stuff, so Frank is helping Percy, they get roughly to the Tiber as the Gorgons are back. Percy (with aid from Juno in a Homer-esque style) does the power thing and the Tiber does Tiber stuff. By that time a couple legionnaires had filed out including Reyna and Dakota as notable people. Reyna is like “woahzers” and Juno does Juno stuff behind the scenes and Dakota kinda like, shuffles his legionnaires + Percy and Reyna tells him to like, do stuff? Idk, she has to talk with some before before talking with Percy and trusts Dakota to like keep them in check- build up Dakota as a respected guy

So they get to walking camp and stuff Dakota explains what camp is until they reach the Principa They go through the Reyna questioning scene and then she tells them “Go to the Auguraculum so Octavian can like; double check that your supposed to be here” and like yeah. Dakota is excused to find Frank. When leaving the Principa Nico appears out of nowhere, says he needed to talk with Reyna about some stuff but would take the detour to walk with them.

We set up Hazel and Nico being siblings, Nico and Hazel not liking Octavian; all the good things. He wishes Hazel good luck and they enter the Auguraculum. It’s dimly lit apart from the skylight and smells, nicely; just a lot like incense. The central Dias lowers so Octavian can talk. Hazel and Octavian stare at each other silently, he tries to make a joke ease tension, it fails. Kinda drops that he knows it’s Juno who sent Percy here (Percy doesn’t know either, Octavian just like switches the topic and says that he’s the Augur so he should know this stuff) Ushers Percy and Hazel onto the Dias, claiming that it’s better to be closer up to the heavens, Hazel says something how at least it’s not dead animals so we can sneak in the animals fact. Octavian is cool and does the pillow pet thing (asks Percy if he has any stuffed animals with him that are significant. Percy fishes it out of his bag not expecting Octavian to take it) but the Gods say that Percy’s a-ok. We get the blackmail comment (this time including Calcedott’s collapse) and Octavian calls Percy back a second to slyly express interest in Percy joining the 1st; saying he has good potential. Hazel and Percy leave, we get a sneak peak of Mercury slipping into the Auguraculum after them

They leave. Maybe know is the Frank switch, I’m going back and forth on if I want PoV switching or if I want each book to just be in 1 PoV but for that PoV to switch- we’ll see.

Anyway we get to dinner; the legionnaires don’t like Percy because he relied on his powers and gets special God treatment. Frank’s back, if we don’t do PoV swap he complains about the armory stuff he had to do and then Hazel probably explains that the legionnaires don’t view powers positively (set up the dynamic of Hazel being more in tune with demigod life and the small underbelly of camp, make Frank a bit less experienced but able to be a little more comforting or something- idk). By now Dakota and Mercury slip over, Dakota makes a comment about people flitting between tables all the time, introduces Mercury as an Optio (we get the introduction to the Optio role). Dakota addresses her by her nickname Freddie- she quickly corrects Percy and tells him that only her friends call her Freddie (honestly the whole legion does she’s just salty that a Percy is the newest topic of discussion-) She grumbles a bit and gives a backhanded compliment about Percy’s Tiber incident and says that Octavian was talking about him. Dakota and Mercury maybe banter a bit, she says something about letters of recommendation; explains what those are before someone (Kahale) calls over for her and she’s gone.

By now Reyna calls up for the announcements. Welcomes Percy into the legion officially, here’s where he gets his Probatio tablet. Octavian asks about letter of recommendation, Percy vaguely remembers some envelopes in his bag (Juno planted them; she wanted her guy to succeed-) but they’re gone, or unusable or Percy simply is getting bad vibes from the 1st cohort between Mercury being a little snappy, Hazel and Nico not liking Octavian and stuff. So whatever, Octavian tries to make a case for having Percy join the 1st because of the talent he’s shown, Reyna shoots him down and Dakota snatches Percy up for the 5th. She announces war games, Percy makes eye contact with someone in the crowd whose been staring him down (Bryce Lawerence)

Yay okay, uh. A couple days later. Dakota drags Percy up to a Centurion meeting between the 5th, 4th, and 3rd because more opinions are better than none. Hazel and Frank come along. We meet Gwen!! The other Centurions sit there and are like “Dakota dude, why are they here”, Gwen smooths things over a bit. Uh, we meet her, she tells us that she’s the Senior Centurion of the 5th, daughter of Mithras; gets a personality, shown to be well-liked, easy going, positive. They all yap about stratagems or whatever, 5th gets to be the front lines. Dakota and Gwen bring Percy and Hazel over to the side and go “hey we kinda wanna be cool and like Romans so pretty please don’t use your powers because we want this win to feel genuine” or whatever. Uh, Bryce, is there after the meeting breaks up. Percy stumbles over when Bryce calls his name; he says he’s in the 2nd cohort and that, “it’s for losers who had good letters but weren’t strong enough for the Prima cohort (1st)” he’s sharpening an old family heirloom 1st cohort stamped Pilum (this is important information). Percy gets kinda gross vibes, but Bryce is a sleazy manipulative guy and they walk for a little. Percy notes that people seem to avoid Bryce while they walk, Bryce talks about how he admires Percy using his powers and says how he should in the war games because “Everyone’s on their high horses here and don’t know what it really takes to win” Percy walks back to the barracks conflicted.

War games, war games!!!! Goes pretty much how the actual war games go. Uh, set up that is was indeed Bryce who stabbed Gwen, Octavian is still missing his Pilum. Mars shows up, he’s having trouble staying Roman at the moment, claims Frank, then is splitting a bit too much- gets a couple lines of prophecy out before having to go. All eyes go on Octavian, Reyna diffuses, says to go about their days and they’ll go to the Senate with this soon.

Soon is, the next day at 5:30 sharp. Dakota wakes up Percy, Frank, and Hazel. Explains the Senator stuff while tugging on his toga, says that Gwen’s been inside of New Romes actual hospital due to the severity of her wounds. They head to Camp, Percy notes that he hasn’t seen Bryce since their talk two days ago. Uh, Senate meeting pretty much goes as expected, Octavian gets to actually dish out a prophecy like the cool Augur he is (Mumbles under his breath a little about how it’s not quite a proper prophecy). A Senator proposes Octavian lead the quest seeing as he is the Senior Centurion of the first cohort. He awkwardly says that his job as Augur is too important and that he wouldn’t have quest mates eligible for this mission (elude to Mercury’s family line *The Varus family* being cursed and standard loosing and that Octavian would want to bring his buddies. But bringing Mercury and Michael means there’s no one in charge of the 1st, and Reyna has too much stuff on her plate-) Reyna kinda does Octavian a solid and switches the topic to the fact That Frank was asked to go on the quest by Mars. Everyone (and Cato the Youngers ghost is still there in the audience because I’m sorry but that was a really funny inclusion-) are all in uproar because excuse me that’s a Probatio. Reyna gets enough votes to makes Frank a Centurion (After we get that cameo by Gwen in the crowd saying that she got her honorable discharge from the legion.) Frank picks Percy and Hazel to go on the quest and yay or whatever. Reyna mentions them packing and Octavian bringing them to the docks to go immediately, says there’s more important things and as Octavian is leading them out Percy sees Bryce being dragged up to the center of the Senate room.

Octavian’s kinda iffy. Respecting Reyna’s choice but doesn’t think Frank (or any of them) are ready for a quest like this maybe aside from Percy (look when a guy shows up covered in battle scars, invulnerable, and very strong you take him seriously too). Makes a comment about how they could’ve gone and used one of the legion cars but Someone collapsed Caldecott; Hazel quips back and Frank is like “stop fighting >:((“ and they walk out. Get to the docks where Octavian gives them their stuff, wishes them the best of luck, makes a kinda good joke about how he wouldn’t be good for the quest anyway knowing his families luck with boats (haha Augustus Caesar boat joke-) and off they go :D

Okay that’s all I have drafted out right now that I’m confident on. I have to go re-read how the actual quest-quest part of SoN works through because the order is jumbled in my brain and it’s all like soupy until they get to the iceberg with Enceladus.

[lamuradex]

Here's The Plan

Today, I'm going to post the prologue and first chapter of one of my books, Signs of Light and Shadow. I've made a few posts about it recently, and also managed to edit the early chapters, so I'm going to post them.

First one today, then following chapters every Friday? I'm going to start out posting the first few, and if there's interest, maybe a couple more. I also reserve the right to take them down, for whatever reason. I'm not planning to post the whole novel here though, but I'm hoping for some feedback on them.

I also need to sort out some more short stories to post, but I can do that between chapters. I'll likely be posting or reblogging older ones on Tuesday.

But first Chapter coming up later today!

[satoru-psych]

Learning curve - Gojo Satoru x Reader (18+)

| Pairing: Gojo Satoru / Fem!Reader (afab) / F/M / Teacher! Gojo x Student! Reader.

| Tags/content: Slow burn, Teacher x Student, Age Gap, Smut, Rough sex, Oral sex, Cunnilingus, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Eventual sex, Corruption Kink, Vaginal fingering, Drinking, Mild Dub-con. Just. A lot. Of stuff. *Minors Please dni.

| Summary: Gojo takes you on as a student after the other two 3rd years get suspended. little does he know, there's an ulterior motive behind those doe eyes of yours.

*Gojo is 28, Reader is 18.

| CHAPTERS 1-4

| Next Chapter: Coming soon.

| Series Masterlist

| Word count: 15.4K

//Note: Hiiii ^_^ A few people told me I should post this on here, since it was already on my AO3, and since I just updated with the latest chap, I thought might as well post them all together since it’s not that long. I’ll be linking the next chapter once it’s up. This is actually my first ever fic so I hope you guys like, oki byeeeeee!

AO3 link.

———————————————————————————————

CHAPTER 1 (PROLOGUE): LOLLIPOP

Gojo cares for his students, he really does. He knows the cruel, heartless nature of the Jujutsu world can shatter the hearts of even the strongest, and having experienced that first hand, he vowed to never turn a blind eye again.

So he pays attention, well, as much as he can with his busy schedule, even if it means little things like remembering their favorite sweets and bringing a box, or taking them out to eat after a mission.

It brings him a sense of peace to see their smiles, a feeling in his chest akin to a blue spring.

Despite his adoration for his students, he was never the kind to favor one over the other, and since he’s started teaching he treats all his students equally. Though as much as he tried to deny it, he may or may not have a very tiny insignificant soft spot for your saccharine smiles and honey dipped voice.

Gojo was also a very busy man, missions and lessons with the 1st years taking up a majority of his time already, so he’s not entirely sure why he’s considering adding you to his list of students too. He wasn’t a teacher during your first year, but he basically treated you like one of his students anyways, albeit not as close because he wasn’t around you as much. so what harm would it be to start teaching you too right?

He stared at the email on his computer screen from Yaga, announcing that the other two 3rd years have officially been suspended and that you needed a teacher for the time-being while he sorts things out with the higher ups in regards to the suspension.

“Well, guess I can help out a little” he muttered to himself, throwing 5 cubes of sugar in his tea as he wrote back to Yaga, saying he can take you as a student effective immediately.

He sipped on it while he waited for a reply, getting one a few minutes later that reads,

“Great, meet me in my office in 30 minutes so we can discuss scheduling and paperwork.

~ Yaga”

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

“Thank you for agreeing Satoru, I know this was really short notice but Atsuya said his hands were full and Nanami has no interest in teaching”

He motioned for Gojo to sit on the sofa in his office, paperwork splayed across the small coffee table.

“But are you sure you have the time? If not I can work something else out, maybe a transfer to Kyoto-“

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be alright, what’s more one student? Her underclassmen adore her, so I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic” Gojo interrupted, twirling his pen in his hand as he stared down at the class transfer forms. “So where do I sign?

Yaga sighed, contemplating the boards decision to even make this man a teacher in the first place, while showing him where to sign and cringing at his signature. “Are you 5 years old?”

“I’ll have you know my signature is very-“

A knock on the door cuts Gojo off, he scoffs and sinks back on the couch, signing a few more papers with a childish pout as Yaga gets up to answer the door.

“Oh, Hi Yaga-san, did you find someone to teach me yet?” Your sweet voice makes Gojo’s ears perk up slightly

“Yes, come in. Gojo-san is just finishing up the paperwork but I need you to sign a few things too”

You walk in and shoot Gojo a doe eyed smile, giving a curt wave that he returns with an unusual smile of his own. The lollipop you’ve been nursing in your mouth doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you swear you could feel his gaze for a split second under that blindfold.

“I need you to sign these papers that Gojo-san has” Yaga gestures to the coffee table, so you walk over and take a seat, a little close to Gojo but not close enough for it to be anything noticeable. But he’s more perceptive than he lets on. Still, he decides to ignore it. All you did was sit down after all.

You pick up the pen and lean forward to start signing, your hair gently falling over your face, and Gojo shoots a quick glance at you, taking in your glossed lips and the lollipop you’ve been swirling around in your mouth.

He always thought you were pretty, nothing more. So it wasn’t like he didn’t expect you to look pretty right now either.

But what he really didn’t expect is the feeling of a slight strain on uniform trousers when he saw you swirling your lollipop around.

What the fuck?

A sheer moment of panic washed over him when he felt his length throb, so in a daze he frantically grabbed some papers, putting them on his lap to hide the tent that was forming , whilst pretending like he gave two shits about whatever was written in them.

It’s only until he hears your voice again that he is snapped out of his frenzied train of thought,

“Thank you so much for taking me on, Gojo-sensei, I really appreciate it”

you stood in front of the table, giving him a shy smile and batting your eyelashes.

He straightens up, still covering his crotch with the papers and clearing his throat in an effort to compose himself, “don’t mention it, I’ll see you tomorrow then”

“Sounds great, Gojo-sensei” you waved goodbye to him and Yaga.

the way his name rolled off your tongue left a sugary sweet taste in his mouth, and for a second he wonders if it was your effortless charm or the 5 sugar cubes he downed in his tea just a little while ago.

He felt his trousers tighten again, and began to internally panic before Yaga snapped him out of it, “Ijichi-san will work out the schedules for both of you and send it out by tonight. Do let me know if something comes up and you can’t follow through”

Gojo gulps, thankful for the interruption because it’s impossible to stay even a little bit hard when Yaga speaks. But wait, why was he even hard in the first place? Surely it wasn’t cus of…

“Satoru..?” Yaga raised an eyebrow,

“Oh uh, yeah, sure thing” he stands up quickly, handing Yaga the signed papers and heads out quickly.

heading back to office he sits down, eyeing the sugar cubes that sat in a box next to his empty tea cup, and your voice lingers in his head again…

‘shit..when did she get so cute?’

He shakes the thought out of his head, telling himself it was probably just an accident, a funny little coincidence, maybe it’s because he neglected his morning wood when he woke up, ah yes that’s the one. It’s gotta be!

So he decided to call it a day, he was obviously not in his right mind today. he makes a motion of interlocking his fingers and clasping his hands together to warp into his bedroom, sighing in relief upon entering his personal space.

“Maybe I just need a nap” he takes off his jacket and slides off his blindfold, running his fingers through his snowy hair, before settling into his ridiculously expensive bed.

“Yeah…I definitely need a nap..” he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the lingering taste of sugar on his tongue.

————————————————

CHAPTER 2: RISING STEAM

The walk to your dorm room back from Yaga's office had you questioning some things. You could’ve sworn Gojo-sensei was acting a bit…. Off, you just couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Plopping down on your bed, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. The weather was getting warmer, but there was still a breeze in the air, so you decided to submit a request for a new summer uniform.

The school allowed everyone to rotate their uniforms and customize them as the seasons changed, and although you prefer practicality over fashion during combat, it wouldn't hurt to try and look a little cuter this summer. Your motive behind this was totally not the fact that you were Gojo's new student. you would never try to seduce your teacher or anything like that. duh.

You typed in your measurements, moving on to the design, your usual choice of a hooded-romper uniform came to mind, maybe you'd modify it to be sleeveless? maybe you'd make it a two piece suit? A different coloured collar?

As you began to visualize your options, an email notification came in, it was your updated schedule for the next 3 weeks from Ijichi, with Gojo CC'd into the email, it contained an average class and mission spread, nothing too exciting, but what caught your eye was that two of your upcoming missions were going to be supervised by Gojo. you weren't sure why but you sure as hell weren't going to protest..Impulsively filling out the rest of the tailoring form with a not-so-subtle smirk plastered on your face, you made sure to choose pickup instead of delivery so you could collect it after your mission tomorrow, and what you were going to pay towards the delivery fee can now go towards a new lipgloss…perfect.

You started on your bedtime routine and your mind wandered. This new schedule was giving you a prime opportunity to get to know Gojo-sensei better! Especially since he’ll be accompanying you on a couple of your missions. That's a nice thing to do right? find some common ground and have deep meaningful conversations with each other. Yes, that's exactly your goal here, nothing else.

Maybe you could pester your underclassmen about it when they're back from their mission, but for the time being you've put on your investigation cap and opened up a social media app while brushing your teeth.

He was ridiculously easy to find, given that all you had to do was search up his name and the user @Gojothestrongest1 came up, making you roll your eyes. there was however the obstacle of him having a private account which you definitely did not foresee.. he seemed like the kind of guy that would show off and flaunt any chance he got so this was definitely strange, and you wouldn’t be caught dead requesting to follow him online the same day he got appointed as your new teacher, that’s too weird right?

Maybe you need to sleep on it, you have an early start to your day and an evening mission tomorrow, plus you’ll be picking up your new uniform after, so you want to be well rested.

You spat out the toothpaste, observed the saliva-mixed white liquid in the sink, mind wandering back to Gojo-sensei for no particular reason, and you giggled.

Though what started as a simple everyday bedtime routine ended up manifesting into what you could only describe as some sort of self care ritual, cleanse, tone, moisturize, scrub your lips, shower and shave every inch of your body, apply body oil, this is totally your everyday routine.. Finally you slid into some comfy pajamas and headed back to bed to get some shut eye.

—-----------------------------

Birds chirping can be heard faintly through the sound of your sliding glass windows, morning dew settles on the glass and you wake up feeling like today is gonna be a good day. Though the morning is uneventful, you go about your school day like normal, classes in the morning and sparring in the afternoon, you did some hand to hand with Yuji which left you with a bruised left shoulder and hip hone, which he apologized very profusely for afterwards, even promising to buy you tickets for his wormo-man movie , but you feel okay enough to go on your mission this evening, it’s reported to be a grade 2 curse in the family section of a run-down fast food joint that likes to hide in the playground. Cute.

It’s in a dodgy part of town but your missions were always in…questionable places anyways. It’s unlikely that a curse would manifest at a nice botanical garden or an artsy modern museum, so roughing it out was something you grew accustomed to.

Car tires screech against the curb, window rolling down to show Ijichi, you wave at him and he he greets you back “good evening, the mission site isn’t too far away so let’s head there now” he smiles and unlocks the car for you to get in, so you sling your bag across your shoulder and climb inside.

“I’m sorry, I have a meeting with the principal later, I won’t be able to collect you after your mission is complete so I’ll send Nitta-san.” he semi-bows strangely while driving. Who bows while driving?

Perfect.

“Oh that’s okay, Ijichi-san, you don’t have to bother Nitta-san, I’ll figure it out by myself” you shoot him a smile through the rearview mirror.

“But i’m not allowed to leave the students alo-”

“I said don’t worry, Ijichi-san. I’ll be fine” you interrupt.

He sighs but ultimately agrees, muttering something under his breath about how he’s not paid enough for this. The rest of the car ride is silent apart from the radio news channel that Ijichi seems to be invested in.

Once he drops you off you head towards the dingy looking building, arms stretched upwards in a tired sigh to stretch your sore muscles, “let’s get this over with”

An eerie bell jingle fills the atmosphere when you swing the doors open, the place is surprisingly not dirty, just very run down. The painted children’s characters on the walls are chipped away leaving them with deformed faces, booth cushions are sunken in and appear lumpy, and the counter is littered with fallen stacks of paper menus and coupons. The curse was doing a solid job of hiding its presence so far, but you could see the faint aura surrounding its footprints that lead into the playground, so you follow them carefully, keeping your guard up as you pass through the door frame.

From the back the curse looks like a child, about 6-9 years old, cowering inside the ball pit with its freakishly humanoid hands wrapped around its knees. It had long matted hair that looked neglected, but when it turned around revealing its face to you, you audibly gagged.

Sunken eyes that resembled two voids on its face were housing what looked to be tens of bugs, it lacked a nose but had a vertical mouth with tight sutures holding the pale rotted flesh together that began to rip and ooze this black-ish blood as it gave a feeble attempt at speaking,

“M….m….ma..ma…………..mama………p-p…..pa….papa….?” it repeated, like a broken record. Great, an abandoned child curse with bug infested eyes, no way in hell were you gonna let that thing get within five feet of you. Jumping a few steps back, you pulled a vial out of your utility belt containing an amaranthine purple liquid, and discreetly unscrewed the top, using your technique to manipulate a thread like stream of it towards the curse, allowing it to trickle into the ballpit, slowly forming a puddle.. Drip, drop, drip, drop, drip, drop..

There was no hostility in the air, although you had a feeling in your gut telling you that any wrong move or sound could warrant an attack, so you didn’t want to risk it.

Still taking calculated steps back while trying to maintain a steady stream, you still when you hear a squeak as the back of your heel comes in contact with a toy basketball, “shit” you mutter under your breath, head shooting up immediately to see the curse standing up at its full height, but it stopped its yapping now. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Sweat trickles down the side of your face, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand with goosebumps on the surface of your skin, and before you have a chance to react the curse lets out a visceral scream, lunging towards you with pure killing intent.

Your feet move on their own, just barely getting you out of line for the hit, but the curse manages to land a momentary blow on your bruised left shoulder, you hiss in pain, clutching your shoulder and sprinting into the ballpit.

The curse is fast but you evade it’s attempt to strike you again, causing it to land in the ballpit with you, it tries to reach you but the balls hinder its movements slightly, allowing you to manipulate the small puddle you trickled into the ballpit earlier, you coated a couple of balls in the liquid, imbuing the liquid surrounding them with your cursed energy and shooting one at the curse.

One lands against its abdomen, making it brutally cough up more of that black-ish blood through its mouth sutures, another scream pierces your eardrums and this time the curse rips through the threads binding its mouth closed, and you utilize this prime opportunity to launch the second ball into that bloody abyss of a mouth, it hits the back of the curses’ throat and you manipulate the liquid once more to trickle down its throat.

The curse attempts to resist, coughing out spurts of the blood-mixed cyanide you just savagely forced down its throat, it comes out of the eyes, forcing the bugs to crawl out of the void and into the curses’ hair in an attempt to seek refuge. Its unsightly, sour bile rises in the back of your throat and you swallow it down as you watch the curse asphyxiate, falling onto the blood splattered balls with its hands around its neck, trying desperately to breathe.

You almost feel bad for it, you can’t stand to look at it die so slowly anymore so you pull out a small cursed knife tool you keep on you, and chuck it through its frontal lobe. Then the silence hits, the curse disintegrates into mere particles and you make a move to pick the knife up. At the corner of your eye you spot a small window, you tuck the knife back into your utility belt and walk in its direction.

Outside the window there’s a peculiar looking building, you squint your eyes to read the sign, and you sigh, it’s a school for orphaned children..Your heart pangs in your chest for a split second as you remember yourself as an orphaned child…No, this is no time for emotions…

“Fuck them kids..” the words escape your faded glossed lips in a quiet mumble, with no real bite behind them, as you pad out of the restaurant into the somber street. You’re tired, your shoulder feels even more sore now, so you postponed picking up your new uniform..fishing your phone out of your pocket you dial Gojo-sensei’s number.

“Hello?” He picks up on the second ring, he must have been on his phone.

“Hello, Gojo-sensei? Can you come pick me up? I just finished a mission and Ijichi is in a meeting” Your voice comes out shaky, unintentionally.

“Where are you? Send me the location, are you hurt?” His tone is soft, it makes you feel tingly inside..

“I’m fine, sensei.. My shoulder is just a bit bruised up..” you gulp, why do you feel nervous right now?

“Stay where you are, i’ll be there soon” he hangs up, making a beeline to his car, still in his casual clothes. He had been lounging at home when you called, his next mission wasn’t til tomorrow afternoon so he had some rare time off for himself, but he couldn’t help but feel worried for you now, he’ll have to scold Ijichi later for leaving you all alone..after all, he does care very deeply for his students.

The sound of his motor revving fills the parking lot of his snobby rich people apartment complex, and he goes out into the night, location displayed on the screen of his luxurious car that he seldom drives.

It only takes around 10 minutes for him to reach your street, it was a quiet night and few cars littered the roads. You perk up as soon as you see him park in front of you, you hear a small click signaling that he unlocked the door, and you climb into the passenger seat, it’s comfy and spacious, fit for a princess..

“Hey, how are you feeling? Was the mission okay?” he turns towards you and you make brief eye contact over his circular glasses.

Your eyes rake over his frame and his exposed arms in a short-sleeved white tee as they flex inadvertently while he makes a U-turn. He notices you zoning out but he doesn't pay it any mind.

“Oh, uh, I’m alright, Sensei..the mission was fine, nothing I can’t handle” your words come with a grin, which he returns with a genuine one himself,

“I never doubted you, well done” the sincerity in his words mixed with his slightly hushed voice burns a pit in your lower abdomen and you inhale deeply to calm yourself down. You thank him and stare out the window, trying to distract yourself, you’re too tired to converse too deeply, despite how badly you want to.

The sight of neon signs and street lights fills your heavy lidded eyes, and you’re on the verge of sleeping when the car comes to a halt at a red light, you scan your surroundings once more and your eyes widen when you spot a sign for a private onsen. Perfect.

“Gojo-sensei!” you turn to him, excited.

“Yeah?” he smiles at you.

“Can you take me to that onsen? I feel really beat up, I could use a dip in a hot spring..” you sigh, pressing your hand to your bruised shoulder.

He hums and makes a turn onto the street, parking his car in front of the building and taking out some crisp looking notes from his wallet to hand to you,

“For the entry fee, I can pick you up when you’re done” he smiles, you take the money and pocket it, that won’t do.

“Huh? What do you mean? You’re not coming in with me?” you feign innocent confusion, and you can almost hear the gears turn in his head when he asks “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you went with Megumi and Yuji a few weeks ago, right? So why don’t you wanna go with me?” your indifference while asking him a question like that has him sweating bullets in 20 degree weather.

“Isn’t that kind of…” he gulps “..weird?” and you frown,

“Why would it be weird? It’s the same as being in a public onsen. Don’t you wanna relax too, sensei?” you shrug oh-so-casually, and he sits there for a second, pondering it seems..

‘She’s right…why am I overthinking this?’ He straightens up and shoots you a coy smile, “sure, I guess I do.. Let’s go then”,

Suppressing your smirk was no easy task, especially after pulling that off, you expected him to downright refuse, so now you have to go along with a whim you weren’t even sure was gonna play out.. Deep breaths, in, out, in, out… The car door opening startles you, when did he get there? But you clear your throat and step out, walking alongside him to the entrance of the building. There are a few vending machines that stock green tea and water outside, and the reception area is small and dimly lit.

After the fees are paid you are both shown to your private onsen, it’s overlooking a rock garden with bamboo fencing sectioning it off from the other springs, next to the door was a small shower booth, along with a rack full of unscented body wash and thin white towels. You make the first move, shedding your bag and shoes and leaving them by the door,

“Can I shower first? I’m dying to get in that water” you pout dramatically and he chuckles, but it comes out tense,

“Sure, go ahead, I’ll turn around so you can change..” and he does so immediately, facing the wall which in turn also hides his slightly blushed cheeks. “ Stop it, she’s your student. This isn’t a big deal..” he internally scolds himself, he feels conflicted, part of him wants to back out and leave, but technically, there’s nothing inherently wrong about being in an onsen with your student, he’s done it before like you said…It’s not like he got a raging boner when he saw you with a lollipop yesterday…’wait, no, that was because I ignored my morning wood, yes! I’m not a pervert!’ but his train of thoughts is derailed when he hears you coming out of the shower, your damp footsteps echoing on the floor, then he hears your dulcet voice calling out to him,

“Your turn, Gojo-sensei!” you watch as his tall figure turns around, expression unreadable behind his pitch-black glasses but you can sense his gaze on your towel clad body. He clears his throat and you take that as a hint to turn away, giving him the same privacy he gave you, despite the overwhelming urge to see him undress..you dip your foot into the steamy water, then your leg, entering with a sigh as the warmth engulfs your body, ridding you of a majority of today’s fatigue. Smooth rocks press against your skin as you lean back, getting comfortable, but you wince when your left shoulder brushes against the rock wall, so you tilt your head the opposite way and begin to massage the soreness away.

Gojo exits the shower booth with a towel wrapped around his waist, skin damp from the water and steam and the first thing he sees is the side of your pretty figure, wincing in pain as you massage your bruised shoulder, your towel was thin, clinging to you like a second skin, and his eyes subconsciously trace over the curve of your brea-

He clears his throat, determined not to let any sort of twisted thoughts plague his mind right now. The sound makes you turn to his direction, and your jaw nearly drops. Gojo-sensei was standing a few feet away from you, abs and chest muscles glistening, skin dewy with steam and staring at you through his glasses whilst you’re both clad in thin white towels.. fuck, you have to play your cards right. So you feign innocence once more, smiling softly at him and beckoning for him to come in, spewing some bullshit about how great the water feels, when the only thing on your mind at this moment is how great he would feel.

He settles into the water and you go back to massaging your shoulder, and it's as if a lightbulb went off in your head at that very second, so you pretend to struggle, groaning in frustration because you just can’t massage yourself right… and he feels bad, you’re in pain and he’s just sitting there watching, what kind of sensei would he be if he just let you stay in your sorry state when you should be relaxing? So he turns off his brain for a moment and calls out to you,

“Do you..need a hand?” he asks softly, not wanting it to sound wrong, and you bite your cheek to suppress your smile again.

“Yeah, please, sensei..” you reply with a groan, turning so that your back faces him now, “it’s really sore..I can’t bear it..” you dramatize your words. And before you know it his large hands are on your skin, he’s close enough that you can hear his breath and it makes goosebumps rise under his fingertips but he doesn’t comment on it, instead focusing on relieving his poor little student of all her unbearable pain…

His hands are practiced, experienced, he presses into your sore spots with the right amount of pressure, making you whimper and breathe shakily, which he tries his absolute hardest to ignore, to tune out, you don’t sound cute to him right now, you’re just in pain…that’s right…he’s not on the verge of losing his composure if you keep whimpering so close to him while his hands press into your ridiculously soft skin…”Focus, Satoru..” his internal voice screams at him.

But your mmh’s and ahh’s are deliberate, and they’re working. However it’s getting increasingly difficult to deal with the situation between your legs. Your thighs have been pressed together for what feels like hours now, yearning for some sort of friction, some sort of relief , and all logic flies out the window when you decide to trace your fingers up your thigh, inching your towel up slowly and discreetly, and it’s when you slide a finger against your slit that you gasp, nearly squealing at how sticky and good it felt, this startles Gojo, prompting him to ask, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, sensei…just, don’t stop…the soreness is going away” you lie through frenzied breaths, all he did was gulp and continue his ministrations. He was probably under the impression that he was helping you out, which technically he was, just not in the way that he thinks right now..poor sensei..

Your middle finger teases your folds under the towel, dipping into your slit to gather the strings of wetness and coming back up to brush lightly against your neglected clit, the feeling of his skilled hands on your body, and your fingers on your most sensitive parts is erotic, you feel light-headed at the gentle stimulation you’re giving yourself, meanwhile Gojo seems like he has his head in the clouds, hands moving on their own as he tries to distract himself enough so that he doesn’t accidentally get aroused again. He hasn’t even noticed or commented on your obscene act, you were either really good at hiding it, or he was just too focused on not focusing on you that it just went unnoticed.

Either way, you’re winning, your pointer finger joins your middle in tracing feather-light circles around your clit, pinching it lightly between the tips which has you biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste lingers on your tongue as your fingers pick up the pace slightly, alternating between figure eight’s and circles, going down to tease at your entrance, you’re floating, before you knew it the familiar knot twists in your stomach and suppressing your moans is starting to hurt. Your fingers lose their rhythm, no longer tracing practiced shapes, as you desperately fight to push yourself to that edge, in the most quiet way possible.

Euphoria washes over you in waves, starting from your core and spreading down into your toes, you’re breathing so heavily you could fill up an air mattress, rubbing lightly at your now swollen nub as you ride out, possibly, the most silent and scandalous orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Are you..” he coughs “are you okay? You’re uh…breathing really heavy” his voice is hoarse, he sounds…Troubled.

“Y-yeah…thank you, Gojo-sensei…that was a great..massage..” you don’t mean to pause before saying massage, but he picks up on it, his hands leave your skin and you suddenly feel cold, despite the steam surrounding your body,

“We should probably um, leave…now.” he sounds dazy, something’s definitely up with him but he’s not saying, you didn’t feel his eyes on you while you were… helping yourself out ..so it can’t be that.

He stands up, clutching his towel around his waist and steps out of the water, frantically grabbing his clothes, muttering something about needing the restroom and to meet him at the car, and he’s gone like the wind.. You shrug, feeling satisfied with what just happened so you step out of the water too, changing back into your uniform and loitering outside while you wait for Gojo-sensei, scrolling through some random social media feed..

—---------------------------------

Gojo all but breaks the restroom door down, clawing his way into a stall with the most painful boner he’s had since his late teens, he slams a fist into the wall and it cracks under his knuckles, “what the fuck just happened? Was she fucking touching herself?” The truth is, he noticed it right away, from the moment you pressed your pretty round thighs together a little too hard, he has the fucking six eyes, of course he noticed. But he ignored it, like a good sensei would, maybe he was just projecting his perverse inner thoughts onto you, his sweet innocent student, as delicate as a flower…you’d never do something that corrupt..But you did…you did? You touched yourself that way while he was massaging your shoulder and yet he still ignored it…why? He doesn’t know.

Maybe part of him wants to give you the benefit of the doubt here, maybe you were just…itchy? Yeah, that’s reasonable. Way more reasonable than his sweet doe eyed student cumming while he massaged her. There's no way. There's no way. You would never…you were too innocent..too sweet..he’s just a pervert. Fuck, he’s a pervert.

Even if you truly didn’t do that, the mere thought of it had him rock hard in the palm of his hand, fisting his leaky red tip with his forehead pressed against the cold tile of the wall, in a measly attempt to ground himself. “Stop it, Satoru…Fuck..” his internal voice blaring at him like an alarm, red and loud, telling him his thoughts are reducing him into a low-life pervy scum that shouldn’t be allowed within twenty feet of a woman.

He shouldn’t think this way, he shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t act this way, he’s the strongest fucking sorcerer, why is he in a single restroom stall fantasizing about his students’ warm, wet pussy right now? She didn’t even do anything, he’s the pervert here. It’s his fault for thinking of her that way. He should feel horrible, he should feel ashamed.

He’s so fucked..

He tucks his still-hard cock into his boxers, throwing the rest of his clothes on and taking deep breaths as he walks to where the car was parked. If there’s one thing Gojo Satoru knows how to do, it’s mask how he’s feeling, so he plasters on his most nonchalant smile, opening the car door for you and swallowing the saliva he didn’t know had built up in his throat. The drive back was silent, there was an unspoken tension so thick you could barely hear the faint music of his playlist over it, before you know it you’re in front of the dorm building in Jujutsu High.

You turn to Gojo-sensei and he smiles at you, bidding you goodnight and you lean in and give him a slight side hug, which makes his sleepy eyes shoot open, you whisper in his ear, “Goodnight, Gojo-sensei…see you tomorrow..”, and then you’re gone, walking off in the distance to your room, and he buries his face in palms, “you’re making this a problem, she was just saying goodnight…what’s gotten into you, Satoru?” he shakes his head at his thoughts, driving back home in total silence, not in the mood for music.

You go about your routine as normal, cheeks blushed and body on fire, you’re replying to a text from Maki when a notification rolls in..

“@Gojothestrongest1 has requested to follow you”

——————————————————

CHAPTER 3: MASQUERADE

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god? Gojo-sensei requested to follow me? Right after what just happened at the onsen?’ your thoughts blare at you like a broken car horn, why is he doing it NOW of all times?

Could it be that he felt something for you? He did offer to massage you after all..but the car ride said otherwise.. He felt tense.

This is completely normal right? The rest of the students follow him so this isn’t a big deal. But if you accept it now you’ll seem desperate, which of course you are, but you can’t make it that obvious. You have to keep him on his toes, he followed you, so maybe you should wait a day or two.

Your phone bounces on the edge of the bed where you throw it, staring up at the ceiling with a heat in your cheeks that matches the one burning in your core, this means you have a chance right?

He could have refused your onsen offer, maybe he didn’t give it much thought, but he still could have taken you to any other one, there were a few in the area that were separated by gender, and he knows that. So surely he wants you a little bit right?

The thought of him potentially wanting you the same way you want him has you kicking your feet up, almost like you have a little school girl crush. Then it hits you. You are a school girl. You do have a crush. A big one at that. Maybe you’re too far in your own delusions right now, fantasizing about a man 10 years older than you, but something in your gut tells you to grab your running shoes and chase those delusions at full speed.

It’s the weekend tomorrow so you’ll have plenty of time to delude yourself into thinking he’s into you, so you hug your pillow and drift away for the night.

—-----------------------------

“Hey- ouch! That hurts!” you exclaim, bringing your hand down to massage your poor inner thigh that is currently being stretched way past it’s limit

“Your combat has been shit lately, so shut up and stretch” Maki rolls her eyes pushing further down on your shoulders so you sink deeper into the splits “It’s not even that bad. Baby”

“Urgh, how nice of you to call your senpai that while t-torturing her,” you groan in response, “But I think you’re getting me mixed up with your overseas boyfr- OUCH!” She cuts you off with a smack on the head.

“First of all, I wasn’t calling you a pet name, I was calling you a baby. It was an insult, and second, he’s not my boyfriend” she scoffs, plopping down on her own yoga mat next to yours, giving a slight chuckle when she sees your pained expression as you maneuver your way out of the hellish stretch to a more normal sitting position.

“Aw, long distance not working out?” you tease, watching her cheeks grow red which she tries to mask with a hand on her face and furrowed eyebrows, ‘cute’ You think to yourself, as you take a sip from your water bottle, nearly choking when she points her middle finger at you. “That’s no way to treat your elders, you know” you smirk.

“Maybe if said elder wasn’t a bitch, I would respect her more” she jabs, stifling a laugh when you exaggerate your gasp, putting a show of putting your hand on your heart to show how offended you are.

“Damn, kids these days” you shake your head, laying back down on the silicone on your mat and staring up at the crows perched on top of the tree you’re using for shade.

“Oh shut up” she laughs, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her socials, she visibly cringes all of a sudden and sighs, “That blindfolded idiot doesn’t know how to post just one picture does he?”, which catches your attention.

“What was that?” you turn your head to the side to look at her, to which she answers

“Just Satoru making it everyone’s problem that he can’t decide on a suit. I swear whoever put this old man on social media is gonna have to pa- hey!” She’s cut off by you lunging for her phone, grabbing hold of the device to feast your eyes on the sight that is Gojo Satoru’s instagram story of him at an expensive looking suit shop.

You click through what feels like over fifty mirror selfies of him with various suits on, you can’t see his face but you can see the side of his sharp jawline and his mess of white hair, ‘he must not be wearing his blindfold because it looks softer than usual, fuck. He looks good.’

“Um, hello? What was that about?” Maki questions, taken aback at your sudden brashness.

“Do you know where he’s going?” You ignore her and question back eagerly, looking up at her with a devious sparkle in your eyes that she’s never seen before.

“Uhh, some masquerade ball at this hotel in Roppongi, apparently Nanami had bought himself a ticket a while back but he can’t go anymore so he gave it to Satoru. He’s been blabbing all week about he’s gonna come back as a ‘Refined gentleman’ and how he’ll ‘Give Nanami a run for his money’ from it” She explains, making finger quotes while trying not to visibly cringe, “Why do you wanna know anyways?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, no reason” You toss her phone back to her, averting her suspicious gaze as you stand back up and begin to roll your yoga mat up.

“You’re going already? It’s barely noon” Her eyebrow raises again, trying to spot an ounce of bullshit in your words, you simply shrug and pick your things up, smiling down at her to say “I have a date, gotta go get ready, though you wouldn’t know about that 'cus your love life is like your cursed energy” you poke your tongue out at her and she laughs in disbelief.

“You really are a bitch!” She shouts at you while you walk back to the dorms.

“Love you toooooo!” You shout back, grateful you were able to evade her suspicions, you think.

—-----------------------------

You practically run out the door the second you change out of your sweaty active wear, not bothering to hop in the shower, you’ll do it later anyways. Jujutsu high was a fair distance away from the city center so that gives you plenty of time to phone up some hotels in Roppongi to ask about this alleged masquerade ball.

You have a few stops left on the bus before you get to the shopping district, It was one you frequented so you know the shops well, you dial the next hotel on the list while staring out the window, sighing as a knot twist in your stomach, 'this is probably futile, I’ve called so many already..'

Mentally preparing yourself for yet another fail, when you ask about the ball, but to your surprise the person on the other end of the phone answers,

“Yes we are hosting an anonymous masquerade ball tonight from 7, Tickets can be purchased for the drinks bar but the ball itself is free to attend!”

'Finally! Wait..did he say'..” Anonymous?” you question, to which the worker explains that one of the rules was to refrain from sharing any personal information about oneself, including names. Interesting, must explain the whole mask thing.

The bus comes to a stop and you hop off, striding down the busy streets to this dress shop you heard Nobara rave about a few weeks ago, it was fancy, way more than you could afford right now, but you’re already making unwise decisions, so will it really hurt to add financial ones to the list?

Probably, but all you can really think of now is how to dress to attract, you're no stranger to balls, you’ve attended a handful with your parents as a child, but that was before the… Nope. Not today.

Clearing your throat, you step into the shop, eyeing the racks of couture dresses and shoes to match, you feel the materials, occasionally pulling one off the rails and holding it to your body in the mirror to contemplate,

“Can I help you with something, miss?” A saleswoman calls out to you, waving politely from behind you, you turn around to speak,

“Oh, I’m actually going to a ball tonight, a masquerade.. Do you happen to have any masks here?” You explain.

“You’re in the right place! Masks and accessories are on the floor above, would you like me to lead you there?” She smiles, and you nod, eager to see the options as it all finally starts to come together in your head, you’re that much closer..

You follow her with a nervous smile, still holding on to that last dress you pulled off the rail, she takes you up the elevator, leading you to a lavish looking accessory room. You’re browsing the seemingly endless options of masks and jewellery when she suddenly cuts in,

“Um, I couldn’t help but notice, the dress you picked out is a dark navy..Are you a fan of the color blue?” She questions, you look down at the silk dress draped over your arm. Blue, huh?

“I guess you could say so? I mostly picked this out for the shape and the material, why do you ask?” You smile back, curious to hear what she has to say.

“Well..If you’re set on that option, I would suggest that you pair it with something like this..” She approaches with a black box in her hands, inside it is a Venetian style mask, decked with silver trimmings and crystals, in a piercing shade of blue…a very familiar piercing shade of blue..

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth in disbelief, this is golden , what are the odds?

“I’ll take it. And the dress. And the matching pumps.” You grin, despite the ridiculous amount of money you’ll have to cough up, you can’t miss out on this.

The saleswoman triumphantly guides you to the cash register after grabbing your size in the dress and heels. You try to seem nonchalant when she rings you up, but you can practically hear the faint screams of your bank account when you swipe your card to pay. No wonder Nobara only shops with Gojo’s Card..

—-----------------------------

“Champagne?” A server approaches with a tray,

“Oh, No thank you” You politely decline, you’ve been here for an hour already and there’s no sign of Gojo-sensei anywhere.. It's starting to get busier by the minute, but you aren’t giving up now, not after spending an ungodly amount of money and time getting ready. A few attendants compliment you, more notably, your mask, you opted for a subtle makeup look, focusing on your eyes to make them prominent under the mask.

Nobody can tell who you are even if they try, the mask covers the top half of your face, and your hair is done up rather than being worn down. You look different. Hopefully different enough to the point where a certain white haired man won’t recognise you.

Speaking of white hair, your heart skips out of your chest when you see a flash of it towering over the countless heads in the crowd. He’s here. Gulping, you decide to follow as he makes his way to the bar, he chats with the bartender for a minute, you can’t hear him over the music but you can finally see him properly.

Slicked back hair, a black and gold phantom mask, and an all black suit and tie. Holy fuck, he looks alluring.

You’re too engrossed in his ridiculously attractive face to notice the flock of women that begin to surround him, all too nervous to make the first move, yet for some reason he pays them no mind, simply opting to lean against the bar and take large sips of his overly fruity cocktail while crowd watching. He finishes his drink relatively fast, motioning for the bartender to make him another, and you decide to approach him.

His eyes land on you the second you infiltrate the busy bar area, breath hitching when he realises you’re about to talk to him. Truth is, he spotted you moments after he walked in, your cursed energy was practically seeping out from how nervous you are. He thought it may be a coincidence until you start following him, and now approaching him, before he has time to collect his thoughts properly, you’re draping yourself over the counter, arms crossing over it as you peer up at him through your blue mask and long eyelashes.

He glances down at you from the side, sipping on his cocktail and masking his nerves with a trademark smirk, “Hm? What have we here? Can I help you, pretty girl?” He tries not to stare down the curve of your breasts where the dress dips, but from where he towers over you it’s inevitable…

“Maybe, I just happened to spot a handsome stranger all by himself so I thought I’d keep him company” You smirk back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, making him chuckle. ‘Stranger, huh?’ He thinks.

“I’m honoured” He grins, taking yet another large sip of his cocktail, “Any reason you chose me out of all the men here?” his eyebrow rises with the question.

“Why do you ask?” You question back, to which he lightly sighs, ditching the cocktail straw and chugging the rest of the tall glass in one go.

“Hm, I don’t know, I just thought I seemed a little old for you..” He answers, silently praying you’ll give up your flirtatious antics and move on to the next man. But all you do is bat your eyelashes at him with an innocent smile before saying,

“Not that I know how old you are, but..” You stand on you tip toes, leaning over his shoulder to whisper in his ear “What if I like it that way?”

You don’t miss the way his grip on the counter tightens, splintering the wood under his nails, and for a moment you linger, breathing against the shell of his ear, waiting for him to break the silence but he doesn’t.

His mind runs a mile a minute, he shouldn’t have had any to drink, 'fuck, i’m a lightweight'.

The mix of alcohol and conflicting emotions he’s feeling for you since the night before at the onsen is stirring his head up.

Surely you know it’s him, right? But why would you knowingly approach your teacher and say that? No. You would never. If you knew it was him, you would have said so. Maybe he’s reading too deep into this. He was wearing a mask after all.

Before he has the chance to respond, you brush your lips against his earlobe, leaving a faint lipstick stain as you whisper once more, “meet me in the bathrooms outside the main hall”, Disappearing into the crowds with a pounding in your chest, equal to the one in his pants right now.

'So she doesn’t know. She thinks I'm just some stranger. Why does she want me to meet her there? Wait, don’t be stupid, Satoru. You know exactly why. Fuck. Should I do it? What would your reaction be if you found out you just flirted with your teacher? You would be mortified…right…?'

He sighs deeply, staring at the door to the bathrooms, how the fuck did he even get here?

'Should I go in? I mean, I’m already here. Might as well, right? Maybe she just wants to talk..yeah..talk..' He tries to reason with himself.

With shaky hands, he pushes the door open, stepping in to find you sitting on the sink counter, patiently tapping your nails on the ceramic. The side slit in your dress fell to the side, exposing your crossed legs to him. Your head shoots towards the door and you smile, turning your body slightly to face the door,

“You came” You jump off the sink to stand at your full height, waiting patiently for his next move with a glint in your eyes behind the mask.

He’s trying, he’s really trying to hold himself back, but the alcohol stirring his head up, and the way you’re looking at him like you’re famished, and the fact that you apparently don’t know that it’s him.. He’s seconds away from breaking.

'She’ll never know, right? Fuck’

He’d be a horrible person for doing this, but he wants you so badly right now. If it wasn’t for the liquid courage he would have never found himself here in the first place.

Click, clack, your heels echo as you make your way towards him, reaching one arm behind his back to lock the door and the other arm around his neck, pulling him inches away from your face, your heart is racing, you feel like you’re about to faint if he doesn’t kiss you right now.

Staring into his eyes, your lip quirks up into a half smirk to say “So..?” in a challenging tone, and he breathes in sharply through his nose.

'She’ll never know, right?.'

'Fuck it.'

His lips smash against your own in desperation, you move in tandem with him as he brings his hands down to your waist and backs you up to the sink again. The edge pokes at your lower back and you squeal when he hoists you up with no effort to sit you down, never once separating his lips from yours.

Your bodies are on fire, the rush you both have from knowing how wrong it is to be doing this is only serving to amplify the lust and attraction, you moan into his mouth and he groans, pulling back and breathing so heavily that you start to wonder, 'is he okay?'

Though your mind only falters for a split second, as his lips are back on yours in an instant, licking your bottom lip 'til you grant him access, he slips his tongue into your mouth and just when it’s starting to get heated, he pulls away, you see a look of uncertainty flash across his face and he drops his head down to kiss at your jaw instead,

His lips trail down the side of your jaw down to your neck, he bites at your sweet spot, and your mind blanks when he sucks at it lightly and runs his tongue across it, you can’t help the moans that escape your lips. His breath stutters when he hears your pretty voice, hands trailing down the sides of your waist, sliding to your lower back, and grazing the curve of your ass lightly, he brings his lips closer to yours again, brushing against them as you pant against him.

“Please, just touch me already..” you plead, voice laced with a desperation he just can’t deny right now.

So he slots himself between your legs, brushing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs, slowly opening your legs up for him and you shudder when the cool air hits your most sensitive parts. Taking one of his hands and cupping your heat, he expects to find the damp fabric of your panties, but is instead met with the slick dripping off your bare pussy, he groans in surprise, length twitching in his suit trousers when he feels you hot and wet against his palm,

“Shit, no panties huh?” He smirks, surprising himself with how into this he is when says, “Kind of feels like you planned this, pretty girl”. You whimper in response, grinding your hips into his hand and he grabs your hip to stop you.

“Use your words. What do you want, hm?” He asks, biting at your neck again.

Your mind is so hazy you can barely form a sentence, still in disbelief that you’re actually here right now, spreading your legs for none other than Gojo-Sensei, and he doesn’t even know it's you.

Through frenzied breaths you manage to choke out, “F-fingers..I want your fingers..please..” And he bites his lip so hard he starts to taste metal. 'So polite, so cute and needy, you don’t even know who you’re begging right now..This is so fucked, but i’m already here. Might as well finish what I started right?'

A long finger teases your folds, dipping into your heat for a split second and pulling back out to trace feather light circles over your clit.

You’re dying at this point, head tipping down to nuzzle into the crook of his neck as you whine, begging “please, please, do something..” you shudder, and he rubs a hand along your back soothingly.

“Shh, I got you, baby.. Only ‘cus you asked so nicely..” He coos, sliding his middle finger inside you to the base of his knuckle, and you gasp, his fingers are so much bigger than yours, and that’s only one..

He starts to slide it out slowly, pushing it back in with a curl to prod at that spongy spot that has you gripping his bicep and digging your nails into it, “Right there?” He adds another finger, curling them up at your G-spot again, and you nod frantically, moaning so sweetly for him while he stretches your impossibly tight cunt.

For a short while, it drowns out any stray thoughts about morals or about this being wrong.. All he cares about right now is your sweet little pussy, dripping all over his fingers and squeezing him for dear life. 'You’ll need way more prep if you’re going to take my cock..Fuck, if you’re this tight around my fingers then..'

His groans and your moans fill the atmosphere, along with the lewd squelching of your arousal as he finger fucks you, hard. He brings his other hand forward to slide your dress straps down, freeing your breasts, he’s quick to bring his head down, placing open mouthed kisses all over and in the valley between them, he then latches his lips onto one of your nipples, peering up at you through his phantom mask, never letting up his pace with his fingers.

Your eyes meet and he bites down lightly, causing you to arch your back and furrow your brows, “Fuck, fuck, fuck… ”, and he chuckles when he feels you start to clamp down on his fingers,

“Sensitive? Are you close, baby?” He whispers, tweaking your other nipple with his fingers, and you nod again, throwing your head back against the sink mirror as you near your release, and he knows it, he feels it.

“Cum for me, pretty girl, go on, make a mess for me”, He breathes against your mouth, just barely brushing his lips against yours but not kissing them, and your coil snaps, you moan loudly as you come down from your high, thighs shaking uncontrollably, this is your first orgasm that wasn’t self induced. And it was given to you by Gojo-Sensei..Your mind feels so foggy..

His fingers slow their pace, helping you ride it out as he feels your cum coat his fingers, and he wants to do it again, he wants, no, he needs to feel you cum again, but on his cock this time..

In the blink of an eye he grabs your legs and pulls you forward, you yelp when you feel your ass hang off the sink, but he grabs you and wraps your legs around his waist, pressing the large tent in his pants into your still throbbing cunt, and it feels so big..

You’re still recovering from your orgasm when he grinds into you, making your body shake, and bringing his lips to your ear to whisper “Think you can take my cock now, baby? Think that little pussy is ready for me?” He grinds into you again, making your eyes roll back.

“B-but..” You hesitate, and he looks you in the eye,

“But what..?” He raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of what could possibly come out of your mouth next..

“I’m…a virgin..” You confess, peering up at him through your mask, as you see him freeze, and your stomach drops. ‘Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.’

“A…Virgin..” He repeats, slowly, trying to process the information. ‘She’s…a virgin. She’s a virgin. Wait. Of course she’s a fucking a virgin. She’s so innocent. She’s my student. Oh god. She’s my fucking student. What have I done? She doesn’t even know it’s me. Fuck. Yep, the alcohol just wore off. This is too far. I went too far.’

He slowly sets your legs down to the floor, taking a step back with a deep breath, ‘calm down, Satoru, just make an excuse to leave now, and freak out about it at home.’

Pulling his phone out and enacting an emergency, he dramatically gasps at his screen, placing a hand on his cheek as he fakes reading a supposedly very important text message,

“Ahhh, shit, so sorry sweetheart, I really have to go, I uh.. My son's dog, he’s really sick! Throwing up all over the house, it’s really bad..” He inches closer to the door,

“We might need to put him down! Poor thing, practically waiting to be put out of his misery now. I’ll have to console my son and everything..You know how it is! Thanks for understanding! Take care!” He tries to pull the door open, but it’s locked, “Shit” he mutters under his breath, turning the lock as quickly as he can and all but lunging out the door to run to his car where he can panic in peace.

No fucking way.

You’re left dumbfounded, staring at the door with trembling thighs and a slightly dropped jaw. He did not just do that. You try not to take it personally, I mean, he literally didn’t know it was you, but wow, that was…wow..

Your lip starts to tremble slightly as thoughts flood your mind, ‘why didn’t he wanna fuck me?! Is it because I'm a virgin? Fuck, I shouldn’t have told him..’ You rip your mask off, tossing it away on the floor, and all but ripping your hair out of your up-do. What if this was your only chance with him and you just blew it?

Walking out of the bathroom, you feel tears staining your cheek and your mascara run but you don’t care in the slightest. Avoiding any and all reflective objects so as to not witness the hot mess you are right now.

One chance. You had one chance to actually fuck the man of your dreams and you blew it. You were so close, he fingered you, he fucking fingered you and then you fumbled. Fuck, you hate yourself.

Not even thinking twice, you make your way out of the main hall, trudging down the parking lot onto the street and into the nearest bar. Alcohol will help. Alcohol always helps.

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

A shot turns into two, then to three, then to who knows how many, you lost count, but you’re drinking! Who doesn’t love to drink? Not you, you fucking love it. Drinking makes the feelings go away!

“Excuse moi! Can I haveee just oneeeeeee more shot of Tenquila? Pleaseeeeeee?” You slur your words to the poor bartender who looks at you with concern.

“I think you’ve had enough te-quila miss. Ten shots to be exact. Do you have anyone that can take you home?” He questions, hoping you would say yes.

“Boooooo! I still wanna drink though!” You frown, making a thumbs down gesture at the bartender who is definitely not getting paid enough to deal with this.

“Miss, either you call someone or we’ll call you a cab, but I’m kicking you out. For your own good.” He says sternly, instantly regretting it when he sees your eyes well up with tears.

“FINE!” You sniffle, fishing your phone out of your purse, and dialling the first person that comes to mind..

Though your little drunk self doesn’t seem to notice, or care, that she hears a phone ring behind her, at the exact moment she is making the call, which picks up in an instant anyways. You don’t give him a chance to answer before you shout through the speaker,

“GOJO-SENSEI…CAN YOU COME PICK ME UP? I’M B-BEING KICKED O-OUT…F-FROM A BAR..” You shout, in between sniffles and sobs, throwing your head down on the bar counter and closing your eyes.

A minute or so passes but it feels like ten, because when you lift your head up, Gojo sensei is paying your bill and leaning forward to drape your wobbly arms around his shoulders.

“Sensei! Y-you came! That was fast!” You exclaim, hiccuping mid sentence as you stare at his face, his hair is up and he has his blindfold on now, you throw your head on his chest as he picks you up from the bar chair, bridal style.

“Yeah, of course I came, darling, Let’s get you home, okay?” He swallows the lump in his throat, still beating himself up about what happened earlier. He took advantage of you and you didn’t even know, and here you are, thinking of him first to call for help.

The guilt hits him hard when you nuzzle into his neck during the walk to the car, drunkenly muttering something about how he makes you feel so safe. You’re so pure and wholesome. He’s just disgusting.

But still, he can't help the small smile that creeps up on his lips every time he glances over at you, passed out in the back seat on the way back to the dorms. He’ll make it up to you, he’ll atone, in his own way.

How you didn’t notice him following you down the street and into the bar to keep an eye on you was beyond him. He must have really upset you when he left so suddenly, but it was the right thing to do.

He’ll have to teach you more about noticing your surroundings, what if you had been stalked by someone, or ambushed by a curse in your vulnerable state? He sighs while carrying you into your room, setting you down on your bed as slowly as he can to avoid waking you.

Your heels clack on the ground where he disposes of them, before pulling the covers over your body. For a second, he stares down at you, taking off his blindfold to really look at you. Runny mascara, disheveled hair, and a crease between your brows as you drift off into dreamland.

He’s unsure of what he feels at this moment. Guilt? Lust? Confusion? All the above?

A light snore snaps him out of his thoughts. Right, he should let you sleep, after all that happened, this is the least he can do..

“Goodnight, pretty girl” He bites the inside of his cheek, as he leaves your room, sighing as he teleports into his own.

Stripping off his clothes, he lays his head on the pillow, arms crossed over his chest as he stares into the ceiling, knowing at least one thing for sure;

He’s not getting any sleep tonight.

————————————————

Chapter 4: CRUSH?

Nausea, a thrumming headache, and bile rising in the back of your throat are what greet you the second you open your eyes. Clearly last night went great for you, though your hazy mind is telling of the fact that you will have no recollection of it for a while.

It’s not exactly pleasant, spending the first portion of your morning hunched over the toilet bowl, spilling your guts (and regrets) from the night before, but in a way it’s like you’re letting it all go, flushing it down the drain where it belongs so you can pretend it never happened and peacefully move on.

Which, speaking of what happened, what the fuck did you even do last night? Do you even wanna know? Probably not. But judging by the fact that you went out drinking and ended up in your own bed, clearly nothing happened with Gojo-sensei.

You’ll take this failed attempt with a grain of salt, there’s always more chances after all, or at least those are the bullshit words you’re spewing at yourself now to make you feel better.

Accepting that fact, you spend the rest of your morning fighting through the urge to go back to sleep while you get ready for your mission later today. You’re supposed to be joining Yuji and Nanami to gather more leads on the patchface curse, but Gojo will be taking you there, and regrouping with you all at the end of the day.

All the more reason to get dolled up, aside from masking the fact that you look and feel like a walking corpse, courtesy of your lovely hangover of course. Cherry lip gloss, fake eyelashes, and a bow in your hair are enough to do the trick, you reckon.

You decide to grab a quick bite before heading over to the main building to meet Gojo. You’ll need the energy to prepare for whatever antics you have in store for this poor man today. On your way to the cafeteria, you get a message informing you that your new uniform is ready for pick-up today. Perfect, Gojo-sensei can drop you off.

—------------------------

“Morning, Sensei!” You shout, walking across the courtyard to his car and he waves back in your direction, leaning against the hood and scrolling on his phone, he immediately stuffs it into his pocket when he sees you and straightens up.

“You’re early, that eager to work with Yuji again?” He smiles, remembering how well your previous missions with the pink haired boy all went. He opens the car door for you to climb in.

“Maybe i’m just eager to see you” You smile, buckling yourself in while he climbs in next to you, doing the same, though his hands fumble with the buckle slightly when you give your reply. He quickly catches himself, coughing and fixing his rearview mirror as he shifts the topic, a little more tensely,

“Did you eat breakfast?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah I did, actually..do you mind taking me somewhere?” You ask back, tilting your head and looking at his side profile. He opted for his blindfold today, his hair sticking up, accentuating his side profile. His sharp jaw and long nose make him look nothing short of a sculpture, something someone spent hours of their time carving and shaping into absolute perfection. He licks his lips in contemplation, the thin layer of saliva casts a small sheen on them, and you can’t help but lick your lips back at the thought of how they would feel on top of yours, it invades your mind, the same way the artificial cherry of your gloss invades your mouth, a taste you’re sure a certain somebody with a sweet tooth would love.

You’re positive you’re wearing these emotions on your sleeve, at least it’s enough for him to sense it, since he shifts his attention back to the road, his smile falling a little at how intensely you’re staring, a sort of hunger present behind those wispy lashes of yours, not bold enough to comment on it, but it subtle enough for a man as perceptive as himself to pick up on.

“What-” He clears his throat “Where do you want to go? I don’t mind if it’s on the way.”

“The tailors” You reply, reaching into your bag and pulling out a lollipop, the rustling grabs his attention and he looks over.

“The tailors? You got a new uniform?” He asks, typing in the location to the tailors on his phone, and smiling at you.

“Mhm, everyone’s switching to summer uniforms lately. Thought I was due for an upgrade” You explain, extending your lollipop to him with a small tilt to your head, and he shakes his in response, thanking you anyways for the offer, you shrug and pop the plastic off, wrapping your lips around the candy with a satisfied hum, muttering a soft “your loss” as the sugar melts on your tongue.

It really is the simple things in life that fill you with joy, like the taste of artificial fruits, and the blush your sensei is so obviously trying to hide while he forces himself to focus on the road rather than your sweet little hums as you suck, and suck, and suck on the sugary treat, a little more feverishly than a normal person might. 'You must really love candy', he thinks. Swallowing down the saliva he didn’t know gathered in his throat.

You decide to bite some more, not sure if you can chew it all just yet, but still biting for the thrill of it.

“You sure you don’t want some? I know you have a sweet tooth like me” You pout, taking the sucker out of your mouth with an audible pop, holding it up to his face, and a groan dies in his throat. This is basically indirect kissing, right? Or is he overthinking this? Technically, he already kissed you once before, even though you didn’t know it was him, and you ended up getting trashed hours later and passed out in the back of his car.

He must have gotten lost in thought for a while because you start waving it around, pouting as you say “Come on, share with me! It’s too big for me to suck on all by myself” Suppressing your smirk at the last line as you enunciate each word with a soft whine.

He stiffens a little, mind going a hundred miles a minute as he tries not to focus on how every word you say somehow translates into an innuendo in his sick mind. There’s nothing inherently wrong with what you said, or what you’re offering.

He’s the weird one here. You’re just dying to share this lollipop with him. Who is he to refuse, especially when you’re being so kind to offer it twice. 'What’s sharing a piece of candy with your student, right?' he tells himself.

He opens his mouth, and you giggle, plopping your lollipop onto his tongue, his lips wrap around the candy and his breath hitches slightly, the sucker had your saliva all over it, he can taste you faintly in between the notes of sugar and fruit, and although light, it still overpowers the sweetness of the candy to him, all he can taste is you, not the same way he did a few moons ago at the ball, but still tasting you nonetheless. And just as he remembers, you’re sweeter than any candy. He unintentionally sucks harder, hoping to sap every last drop you left on there. If he can’t kiss you the way he wants again, he’ll savor any taste of you he can get.

‘This is messed up’ He thinks. How his tongue swirls around the candy languidly, savoring the taste. To the external eye, he’s just nursing a lollipop. And just as he thought, when he turns his attention back to you, you’re zoned out, tapping your prettily manicured nails atop his window. Unaware that his pervy self is concealing a semi because you're sweet enough to share a candy with him.

‘Damn, I need to get laid soon..’ He shakes his head, deeming that the case for his teen-like hormonal surge as of late. He doesn’t need you, he can’t need you, he just needs someone to relieve him of his tension. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t escape the mental image of you with your dress tugged down your pretty tits, head thrown back in ecstasy as you moan and gush all over his fing-

“Your destination is on the right!” The GPS announces, snapping him out of his lewd train of thought. With a shaky sigh, he pulls into the parking spot.

“I need to make a call, so you go ahead.” He lies through his teeth, leaning forward to hide the growing tent between his legs. Maybe he should ask for a looser pair of pants while he’s here..

“Hm, okay, I’ll be quick, but first-” You smile, daringly leaning over to place a quick peck on his cheek and to your surprise, he lets you, dropping his infinity barrier a second before your sticky plump lips meet the softness of his cheek. He freezes and you take the chance to slip the lollipop out of his mouth, popping it into your own with a smirk, leaving the car before he even has a chance to speak. He sits there for a moment, processing what just happened. It was just a sweet gesture right? No ill intentions behind it..Right?

Your lipgloss stains his cheek, and he brings a hand up to his face, brushing over the pigment, transferring the residue to his thumb. He observes the soft sheen, slightly red with specks of iridescence. It glimmers under the sunlight that seeps in through the cracks in the clouds. It’s pretty, he thinks, the subtlety of the color perfectly compliments a sweetheart such as yourself. It’s a downright shame the thoughts that plague his mind are anything but sweet.

With a gentle lick to his thumb to rid it of the stain, and a long sigh, he throws his head down onto the steering wheel, sliding a hand down over his trousers to grip his now fully hard erection with a hiss. He needs to stop. From now, all he’ll think about today is Gakuganji in the shower, another mental image he’ll never be able to erase, but a far less thrilling one. It’s humorous how quickly his hard-on went limp in his hand, and he silently thanks himself from 12 years in the past for breaking into the old geezers quarters to replace his shampoo with hair removal cream.

Minutes pass, and he finds himself reminiscing on his school days with a soft smile, one that slightly falters when you enter the car again, in a much shorter skirt.

One that was definitely borderline against school rules, especially with the way you’re sporting it with no tights underneath. Normally he wouldn’t care about things this trivial, you have the freedom to wear whatever you want anyways. But he’s sure you’ll rub some staff members the wrong way while practically parading around in a mini-skirt. He clears his throat, pulling out of the parking spot and handing you his phone.

“Wanna play music?” He offers, and you accept, scrolling through the music app to find your favorite songs and adding them into a playlist titled “ Your fav student :P”

The rest of the car ride is silent, but it’s comfortable. Apart from your occasional hums and mumbles to the song lyrics, there’s no pressure from either of you to hold small talk or conversation. Gojo-sensei drives relaxedly, an easy smile on his face, his eyes flicker to your thighs every once in a while, sighing in the process, and thankful he wore his blindfold today, so you wouldn’t see the way he ogles you, simultaneously wanting to punch himself for letting his gaze wander yet again.

When he drops you off with Nanami and Yuji, he bids you all farewell, and unsurprisingly, you lean in to give him a hug before he leaves, which prompts Yuji to do the same, throwing himself into the mix like a hyper-active puppy that just wants to be included, screaming “Group hug!”

“Alright alright, get in here both of you!” Gojo chuckles, wrapping both his arms around yours and Yuji’s shoulders, tucking you under his freakishly long arms. His large hands rest atop your heads, ruffling your hair as you squirm around, the three of you laughing like idiots.

The sudden sound of a throat being cleared snaps you all out of it, the blonde haired man standing before you seems unimpressed to say the least.

“Gojo-san, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lot of work to get on with. Please reserve your foolishness for another time.”

“Someone’s a buzz kill..” Gojo mumbles, dropping his arms to his sides, and stepping back. You turn to face him, cupping your hand around your mouth as you whisper shout “We’ll resume this later!” With a grin, and he chuckles in response, waving you off as he walks back to the car.

You turn back to face Nanami, who is already eyeing you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face. You had never worked with him before, but you’re no stranger to teaming up with Yuji. At least he’ll make this fun, you think.

A monotone voice calling your name forces you to straighten up, you lock eyes with Nanami as he blatantly says,

“I understand you’re Gojo-san’s student as well, let me make it clear that I am not of the same mindset. I expect you to be on your best behavior if you’d like to stay on this mission.” You frown at his words, what’s that supposed to mean?

Yuji must have sensed your discomfort because he immediately resorts to damage control, laughing nervously with a hand behind his head as he reassures you, “Nanamin is like that with everyone, he was even worse with me at first. Don’t let it get to you.” He smiles, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm. Perhaps this mission won’t go so badly after all.

Nanami interjects with a sigh, fixing his ugly glasses as he says to Yuji “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Yuji shrugs, retorting with a simple “Loosen up, Nanamin!”, to which the drained looking man sighs for what seems to be the 20th time in the span of a few minutes, opting to shake his head and start talking the two of you through the plan for today. He goes on, and on, seemingly never stopping with his useless explanations.

'It’s just a stupid curse' you think. you can all just tag team it and get it over with in a day. Why does he have to overcomplicate it? You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, struggling to keep your eyes open.

It's going to be a long day..

—------------------------

“They’re human.” Shoko confirms your suspicions over the phone, causing a tension so thick in the room it nearly starts to feel stuffy. You had noticed it, from the moment the first few transfigured curses fell at your hands. Something felt off, Yuji sensed it too. It was only when Nanami took a photo of the curses’ arm that you knew. But hearing it out loud just makes it more real.

Your eyes drift to Yuji, who is seated beside you on the small sofa, across from Nanami. His gaze never leaves the ground. He’s sulking, despite Shoko reassuring the two of you over the phone that you didn’t kill them, they were already dead. Death in this sense is upsetting, but it isn’t major to you, nor is the act of killing another human for that matter. Though for Yuji it seems to be a completely different case, you know he’s beating himself up about it. He’s empathetic, the type to really feel affected by the suffering of others. You admire how he wears his heart on his sleeve, unlike you who buries all your pain in the back of your throat and swallows it whole without chewing.

“Yuji?” You call him softly, and he meets your gaze for the first time since sitting down. “You mind showing me the restroom? I forgot where it was here.” You smile, and he smiles back gently. He knows you’re lying. There’s signs all over the building that lead you to where you need to be, but he still stands up, getting the message that you’d like a minute alone with him.

You reach the end of the hallway when he finally turns to ask “What did you wan- oh.” You silence him with a tight embrace, wrapping an arm around his neck and another around his head, bringing his face down to your shoulder.

“Shut up. Just let me comfort you.” You whisper, rubbing his shoulder soothingly as he relaxes into your hold, his sniffles are muffled against the fabric of your uniform, as he lets it all out.

“Senpai, I-” he tries to speak again, but you cut in once more, knowing what he needs most now is to hear “You’re not alone. Whatever you’re shouldering, I will too.” You smile when he hugs you tighter, nodding as he wipes away the tears threatening to spill from his ducts.

“And don’t call me Senpai. It makes me feel old.” You poke at his side, and he squirms, smiling and pushing your hand away.“You are old though.” He jokes, but you punch his arm, making him wince like a child and laugh.

“Alright, that’s enough comfort then. You don’t deserve it anymore.” You laugh with him, both of you walking back to the room where Nanami is. You’re unsurprised when you see Gojo-sensei in the same room. He did say he was going to regroup with you all at the end of the day. Yuji brightens up when you sees him, rushing to his side on the small sofa.

You follow with a smile, waving at Gojo as you approach the group, though you quickly realize there’s nowhere for you to sit now. The 2-seater sofa is occupied by Yuji and Gojo, and atop the only other chair in the room sits Nanami.

Gojo notices and makes a move to get up and offer his seat to you, but in a swift movement, you grab his arm to stop him, slotting yourself in his lap before he even has a chance to interject. He freezes. Nanami freezes. Your heart races, knowing this could either go very smoothly, or very badly. Though, to your surprise, Gojo simply clears his throat, relaxing back on the sofa as he turns his head to Nanami.

“So. Where were we?” He asks, as if nothing just happened. As if your perky little ass isn’t seated right on his crotch in front of another student and a coworker. He can’t let this get to him. Not in front of everyone. You’re just taking a seat. Nothing more, nothing less. It just so happens that your already-too-short skirt has ridden up enough for him to feel everything.

Nanami moves the topic quickly, continuing his explanation to Gojo about the events that occurred and the leads you were able to get today. You, on the other hand, are still not making it any easier for your poor sensei.

You absentmindedly tap your nails against the arm of the sofa, shifting in Gojo’s lap to get more comfortable. A particular shift from your hips causes his cock to twitch. He groans, disguising the noise with a cough. He gently places a hand on your upper hip, stilling your movements with a deep breath as he tries for the life of him to focus on anything but the warmth emanating from between your plush thighs. ‘Naked Gakuganji, Naked Gakuganji…’ He repeats in his own head like a mantra.

He talks back and forth with Nanami, discussing the next steps in tracking down the patch-face curse, you couldn’t be bothered to listen, knowing it’ll all get simplified in an email later on anyways. You must have been pretty zoned out because a tap on your hip snaps you back to reality.

The reality where Nanami is staring you dead in the eyes as he speaks, with anything but a gentle tone, “...As as I was saying. Will you and Itadori-kun excuse us for a minute? I need to have a word with Gojo-san. Alone.” He emphasizes the last few words, making it clear he wants the two of you gone, now.

You nod and stand up from Gojo-sensei’s lap, Yuji follows as the two of you walk to the door, Yuji waves to both of them with a sweet smile, and you turn your head back, saying goodbye as well, but only Gojo says it back.

There is a silence that fills the room once yourself and Yuji leave. Gojo is about to make some snarky comment when he gets sucker-punched in the face by Nanami’s question.

“So how long have you been fucking your student?” Nanami asks in a tone so sure it even makes Gojo doubt himself for a split second.

“What?” Gojo asks back, unable to process what just hit him.

“You heard me the first time.” Nanami states.

“Yeah and I'll also hear it if you told me you liked your job but that doesn’t make it true.” Gojo scoffs, running a hand through his hair as he realizes the absurdity of the question he's being faced with.

“You seriously have the nerve to be sarcastic when faced with a question like that?” Nanami's tone comes out a little more aggressively.

“Well you had the nerve to ask me that stupid question in the first place.” Gojo retorts, with a similar bite in his tone.

“Don’t take me for an idiot.” Nanami grits his teeth, removing his glasses to squint his eyes at the white haired man sitting in front of him.

“Hard not to when you’re accusing me of being a fucking pervert.” Gojo argues, clenching a fist on his thigh.

“Then do you care to explain to me the reason she acts so suggestively towards you?” Nanami asks, clearly trying to back his coworker into a corner.

“And what exactly is suggestive about the way she acts?” Gojo’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching.

“Leaning in to you, batting her eyelashes, licking her lips, the try-hard tone of voice she puts on only when you’re around-” Nanami starts to list off, before he’s interrupted by Gojo’s incredulous laughter.

“Yeah, just like every other young girl I speak to that tries to get my attention?” He retorts, shaking his head with a deep sigh. ‘ What the fuck is Nanami’s problem? ’ He thinks.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” Nanami rolls his eyes, fed up.

“It’s not flattery, it’s fact.” Gojo states blankly, having had enough of this conversation,

“She sat in your lap.” Nanami poses, certain he can’t deflect this argument.

“There was nowhere else to sit. If it was so ‘suggestive’ do you think she would have done it with others around?” Gojo defends, “Maybe you’re the perverted one here for seeing it that way.” He spits out, bringing a deep furrow to Nanami’s eyebrows.

“What the hell are you saying?!” Nanami growls, raising his voice.

“I’m saying, no girl is immune to the effects of my charm.” Gojo shrugs, as casual as ever, as if he’s not having one of the most absurd conversations in his life.

“Quit fucking around, Gojo.” Nanami sighs, straightening up in his chair.

“You see, Nanami, this is actually what it’s like when a girl has a crush on you. Not that I expect someone like you to know about that.” Gojo states, laughing in his coworkers face, but faltering for a moment. ‘Wait, Crush? Why would I say that?’ He thinks.

Nanami simply stands up, having heard enough of Gojo’s shit. This conversation was going nowhere, not when the man before him is deflecting like he’s born to do so.

“You’re full of shit, Gojo, and you know it.” Nanami states, walking towards the door without bidding a second look. “Yeah, well…you’re not even a fart!” Gojo shouts at his frame as it disappears past the door and into the hallway.

He sinks back on the sofa, sighing deeply as he tries to digest everything that happened to him today. Surely none of it was obvious, right? You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just a sweet girl who happens to be the object of his twisted desires. Maybe Nanami sees through that, in that case he just needs to up his masking game, something he’s more than used to already.

But it still isn’t an excuse for the man to just throw baseless accusations like that. It’s disrespectful to him, and also to you.

Anyone could tell those were bullshit claims, anyways. Though, it does cross his mind that everything you seem to be doing is exactly what he was used to from girls that wanted him in the past. The thought grows in a way he really doesn’t want it to. Those girls were always his age. It makes no sense that an innocent girl like you would intentionally act that way with a teacher. Right?

Well..Unless you do have a crush on him, he thinks..Then it hits him. The lollipop sharing. The staring. The physical contact. It all starts to click.

“Shit.” He mutters, throwing his head into the palm of his hands.

You have a crush on him.