#pending us being suited to each other

[benevolentgodloki]

(Fluster meme) The Grandmaster wants you for a threesome.

Try to fluster my muse

For 3.5 seconds Loki.exe stops working.

Then he teleports out of there and hides somewhere in one of the Avengers' basements.

[pedrospatch]

weakness l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Back in the Boston QZ, you confront Joel about what happened at Bill and Frank’s place.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s) two idiots who have feelings for each other, one idiot is in denial, Joel is kind of an asshole, confrontation, confessions. little bit of backstory on how they met, very brief mention of attempted SA. SMUT. reader loses her virginity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (practice safe sex, pls and thank you), post sex cuddles (ish) and more feelings.

word count: 6k

You splash several handfuls of warm water onto your face and scrub, making sure to be as thorough as possible as you rinse off all the suds from the cleansing soap that you’d used to wash the makeup off your face. You had also changed out of the dress that Frank had you wear for his special lunch earlier that afternoon and back into a much more appropriate outfit for your pending return to the Boston QZ with Joel—as always, Frank had kindly encouraged you to take a peek through a number of cardboard boxes full of women’s clothing in your size that he’d collected from the boutique and insisted that you go on and help yourself to whatever your heart desired out of them.

 After plucking a pair of dark wash blue jeans from one box, a long sleeved olive green blouse from another box, and a matching, white lace underwear set from a third box, you’d gone into the bathroom and started making the transition back to your usual appearance, minus the dirt and the grime for the time being.

There’s a part of you that’s relieved to see yourself looking a lot more—well, looking a lot more like yourself. On the other hand, there was another part of you that almost grieved the short lived feeling of what it had been like to look like a normal woman. Perhaps that’s the reason why, instead of putting your hair back into its usual braid, you decide to leave it down, loose around your shoulders.

“I told you it suited you,” Frank states with a little grin. Affectionately, he runs his fingers through it one more time before pulling you into his arms for a warm hug. “Thank you for coming over for lunch..”

After you and Joel had said your thank you and goodbyes to Bill and Frank, you started the journey back home. Not that the QZ was really a place that you wanted to consider home, but it was where you had spent the better part of the last six years. The truth was, you couldn’t stand living in the Boston QZ, but it was probably the closest thing to a home you’d ever have again.

 And it only felt like that because of Joel.

He’d crossed your path when you first arrived in Boston after Providence had been overrun with infected. Like most of the other survivors, you had found yourself in Boston, as it was the closest operating QZ and only about fifty miles away. It was a rougher crowd in Boston than in Providence and you’d found that out the hard way on your third night there when you’d been walking back to your quarters after that day’s work assignment had run late into the evening.

You had been trying to get to where you needed to be before it went past the set curfew hour and you remembered being so preoccupied with trying to avoid a disciplinary lockup that you hadn’t noticed the two goons who had been following you from the work site.

It happened in the blink of an eye—one minute you were walking and the next you’d been shoved into some empty alleyway. They roughed you up, and although you had tried to fight back, you ended up being overpowered and found yourself pinned down to the ground on your back by one of the assailants; meanwhile, his partner in crime eagerly unbuckled his belt and reached for the button of your jeans. Before it could go any further than that, the sound of a much older man’s deep voice threatening the promise of two broken jaws sent them running into the darkness as fast as their trembling legs could carry them.

That was the night you’d met Joel Miller. 

The one man in the zone that nobody in their right mind would ever dare fuck around with.

He’d scolded you for being stupid enough to walk the streets alone so close to curfew hour and then took you back to his apartment where he’d cleaned up all of the cuts and scrapes on your face with a torn, cotton blue handkerchief and some cheap whiskey. The two of you hadn’t been apart from each other since that night for longer than a day, if that.

So, the bottom line was that Boston wasn’t home. It never was home, and probably never would be.

It was Joel. He was home. 

It didn’t matter where you laid your head to sleep at night. Whether it was on a clean pillow in Lincoln or on that old, shoddy mattress that you’d noticed was starting to sprout bits off fluff through open tears in Boston—hell, you could lay your head down in the dirt at night and as long as Joel was there by your side, you wouldn’t give a single shit about it.

Gripping the straps of your  hundred liter pack, you glance up at Joel, your eyes meeting his own pack that he carried on his back. For a majority of the walk back, he’d stayed at least a few steps ahead in front of you. He hadn’t really said much of anything to you since your shared kiss in the middle of Bill and Frank’s living room.

Somehow, even several hours later, the feeling of his lips on yours still linger and you had to wonder, did Joel feel the same? Was it on his mind too? Or was he trying to forget that it ever even happened now that you two were heading back into the cold, hard reality of living in the QZ?

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that it wouldn’t devastate you if that were actually the case.

The two of you make it back just after nightfall. You and Joel sneak past the authorities and despite the fact that it was well after FEDRA curfew hour and the zone is crawling with guards on night patrol, you manage to make it all the way back to your shared apartment without being caught. Being thrown in lockup would have put quite the fucking damper on what had otherwise been one of the most decent days that you’d had in a while.

Joel’s silence towards you holds on pretty strong as he shoves his way through the front door, dropping his heavy pack with a loud thud on the floor. He stalks over to the couch and drops down onto it; his legs and feet are aching from the long, nearly five hour trek back to the QZ. Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans his head back and then closes  his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath of recovery he takes.

Taking off your own pack from your shoulders, you set it down beside his, and then walk over towards the couch too. However, instead of joining him as you usually did, you stand in front of it—in front of him, and although his eyes are still closed, you know damn well he can sense you standing there. 

And yet, he refuses to acknowledge you.

Shuffling your weight from one foot to the other, you wrack your brain in search of something, anything to say—though you know he’s exhausted, it’s still incredibly obvious that there’s a tension that lingers over the both of you. In reality, it had followed you and Joel the entire way back from Lincoln, but at least out in the open, it hadn’t seemed that bad. Now that you were back in the apartment and confined to such close quarters together, it could be sliced with a fucking machete. 

Finally, you speak, saying his name softly. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” comes his reply, his head still resting back on the couch.

“We should—um, we should probably talk.”

His eyes snap open, but he fixes them on the crumbling ceiling of the apartment. “Talk ‘bout what?”

“About the fucking weather outside,” you answer, flatly.

Joel lifts his head from the couch, raising an eyebrow at you. “Oh, is someone feelin’ like being a smartass tonight?”

You sigh irritably. You should have known better than to think Joel would actually make this easy for you. “Listen, about what happened back at Bill and Frank’s house earlier today—”

He’s quick, too quick, to cut you off. “It was nothin’.”

You feel your heart drop down deep into the pits of your stomach. “It was nothing?” you repeat after him, wondering if you’d looked just as stunned as you had sounded. “Really, Joel? It was nothing?”

Joel gives you a subtle, but curt nod. “We both know it was nothin’ at all. Best we just forget about it. Pretend like it never happened.” He stands up from the couch and kicks off his worn, faded leather boots. “S’real late. We should probably get to bed.” He brushes past you and starts towards the bedroom.

You spin around on your heel, and while your words are gentle, they hit him in the back like a ton of fucking bricks. “It wasn’t nothing to me, Joel.”

He halts abruptly in his tracks and freezes, his wide shoulders squaring.

“And you know what, I don’t think it was nothing to you either.”

Slowly, Joel pivots on his heel and turns around to face you. “You listen here. I ain’t exactly too sure where you went off and found the fuckin’ balls to even think you can speak for me, but I’m gonna need you to go put ‘em the fuck back right now or else we’re gonna have a problem, darlin’. That understood?”

A chill runs up the length of your spine. Though he keeps his voice calm, there’s slight, dangerous edge to his tone that almost makes you back down—somehow, you will yourself to stand your ground. “You said it to me yourself, Joel.” You lift your chin slightly. “Earlier in Lincoln. You said you don’t want a life without me. Remember that?”

Joel’s jaw clenches.

He couldn’t deny the exact words that had come out of his own goddamn mouth, now could he?

You take a careful step towards him. “Am I your weakness, Joel?”

Instantly, he drops his eyes away from yours, his voice lowering as he asks you, “Now where the hell would you get an idea like that?”

“Frank told me—” You stop  as he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “He did, Joel. He said that I’m your weakness.”

“Did he now?” Joel’s eyes are now on the floor.

He can’t even look at you.

“Yeah. He did.” You take another step forward, and then another. And even when you stand right in front of him, your body just mere inches away from his, he forces himself to keep from meeting your gaze. “Joel?”

He stiffly shakes his head. “Don’t,” he utters through tight lips. 

You try again. “Joel?” Knowing he would be too stubborn to give in, you bend slightly at your knees, crouching down in front of him just a few inches or so, low enough to place yourself into his view. You then slide your index finger underneath his chin and lift it, forcing him to look at you as you draw yourself back up to your normal height. Your expression softens once you see the battle he’s fighting behind those tortured dark brown eyes of his. “Just tell me the truth, Joel. Please,” you beg him, softly. “Am I your weakness?”

Joel reaches up with his hand, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. He tears your hand away from his face and holds it down at your side, but doesn’t let it go. “Why the fuck are you askin’ me that? Huh?”

“Because,” you reply, the gentle tone of your voice causing his grip around your wrist to tighten. “You sure as hell are mine.”

Your eyes glaze over his parted lips, and before you can even think about making another move, Joel releases your wrist and both of his hands fly to either side of your face as he brings his mouth down to meet yours. Just like back in Lincoln, you thought he would attack you, devastate and ruin your lips with his—though he kisses you with fervency, you can feel that he’s being careful, almost as if he were afraid he would break you into pieces if he became too rough with you. You almost want to speak, let him know that there was no need for him to hold back, but you’re too preoccupied, far too busy getting yourself lost in the taste of him.  

Desperate to be even closer to him, your arms find their way around his neck and you close the remaining gap of space between the two of you by pressing your body flush against his.

This causes Joel to suddenly break away from you, your name falling from his lips in the most delicious way you’d never heard before.

“What?” you question him, breathlessly.

When he says nothing back to you, you take a step backwards, away from him, and lift your hands to the buttons of your blouse. Slowly, almost seductively, you undo the first top button and then move on to undo the second one. When the third one comes undone, you use your index finger to move the material of your blouse aside, revealing your bra underneath—the white lace sits delicately on the soft curve of your breast, igniting a blazing fire deep in Joel’s lower belly.

Though he longs to let you finish so he can see more of you, Joel catches both of your hands in one of his halfway down, stopping you from going further. “Don’t,” he warns you, his voice strained, hoarse. “Don’t go doin’ somethin’ you’ll regret, darlin’.”

You tilt your head slightly, giving him the most innocent, angelic look he’d ever seen in his entire fucking life. “You think I’ll regret this?”

Joel can only nod helplessly at you as you tug your hands out of his and turn your attention to his shirt instead. His breath audibly catches in his throat as your fingers start working on the buttons of his brown plaid flannel. Heart hammering painfully in his chest, he looks down at you as your hands move on from one button to the next. He’s become borderline intoxicated by the sweet, sweet scent of whatever shampoo you’d used back in Lincoln to wash your hair, and it’s causing him to lose his grasp on what very little common sense he has left.

Joel feels the heat flood to his face when you push his shirt off of his shoulders and take a long moment to admire his form. Sure, his physique may not have been what it used to be now that he was in his fifties in comparison to his younger days, but he’s still in decent shape. His upper body isn’t ridiculously built or muscular, but thanks to hours of physical labor in the QZ, he still had this broadness to him—Joel’s back, his shoulders, and his arms, fucking hell, those arms of his that you could just melt right into, arms that you would feel so safe in, no matter what.

Your eyes drink him in, and you find yourself memorizing every last distinguishing mark on his upper body. You make a mental note of every single freckle you see, of each and every one of the battle scars that he possesses and commit them to memory. You were certain that most of Joel’s scars had come from this life, but you had to wonder if any of them had come from his past life. His first life.

“I ain’t a pretty sight,” he murmurs, shaking his head slightly.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” Joel replies without missing a beat. He inhales sharply as you reach out and place the palm of your hand on his chest.

You can feel his heart slamming against his chest wall right against your hand. “Your heart is beating so fast,” you whisper. You step towards him and gingerly press your lips against his neck, causing him to draw another sharp breath of air.

Unable to fight his desire to touch you any longer, Joel reaches out to finish undoing the rest of the buttons on your blouse. He discards it on the floor along with his own shirt in one quick, swift movement.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as soon as his hands met your bare skin.

The contrast of his roughness and your softness just about drove him wild. He leans down, claiming your mouth with his once again, and although he tries to keep himself from being too rough with you, Joel can’t help how hungry his kisses are—he almost feels as if he’s a starving man who hadn’t had single crumb to eat in weeks, and you’re a three course meal that had miraculously fallen into his hands. He wants to devour you, and yet, Joel uses every ounce of strength he has in him to show at least a little bit of restraint. He knows you aren’t delicate, but he fears that if he isn’t careful, you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands much like a doll made of porcelain.

His teeth lightly nip at your bottom lip, his silent demand for more and you give it to him. He slides his hands up and down your sides, and while his touch is doing inexplicable things to your body that feel so fucking foreign, it also feels so fucking good. And you want more. 

So, so much more.

Joel groans into your mouth as you rake your fingernails down the front of his bare chest. “Baby.”

Your heart skips an eager beat.

Never in this lifetime did you think Joel Miller would call you that. But then again, never in this lifetime did you think you two would ever be in this position. Half naked, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

“Baby.” He says it again, pulling away slightly.

“What’s the matter?”

“If we don’t stop right now—” Joel trails off mid-sentence, letting his two hands continue to roam and explore your upper body. He finds it in himself, finally, to push the delicate straps of white lace down your arms; you decide to lend him a hand and reach around your back to unhook the lingerie, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the stained linoleum floor. Pulling you flush against his chest, Joel groans again and then tears his lips from yours, moving them down to the sensitive flesh of your neck.

As he does  so, you start to guide him backwards towards the bedroom.

“Careful,” Joel mumbles against your skin, causing you to exhale a tiny, breathless little laugh.

Somehow, even with his arms wrapped around you and his lips fused to your neck, the both of you manage to get around the wide, single wall that divides the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. As Joel feels the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress—the very same mattress that you two had been sharing for the last few years—he lets out an odd noise, something in between a groan and a sharp exhale of breath. He snakes an arm around your waist and turns you so that he’s able to carefully lay you back onto the mattress. He follows in suit and crawls on top of you, his body hovering over yours.

“It ain’t too late, you know.” Joel pauses and brings a hand to your face. He brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes and tucks it behind your ear, his finger grazing your cheek as he does so. “It ain’t too late to stop.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to stop?”

“Yes.”

Your heart sinks. “You want to stop?”

“No.”

A puzzled expression crosses your features. “But you just said—”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t even fuckin’ know.” He closes his eyes, furiously shaking his head.

“Joel. Look at me.”

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Joel obliges. His pools of intense, dark brown swim with an array of different emotions, from lust and desire to concern and fear. “Things won’t be the same,” he tells you, shaking his head again. “We cross this line and there’s no goin’ back for us, do you understand that, darlin’?”

You chew nervously on your lower lip. Your hand is at the back of his head, your fingers anxiously toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. Of course you knew that there was no going back—but hell, you didn’t want to go back, not if it was to a time where you went about your days thinking that you meant nothing to Joel Miller. Not to a time where you didn’t know what it was like to be kissed by him, or to be touched by him.

Finally, you will yourself to reply to him.

“Is it shitty of me to say that I don’t care that we’re crossing a line we can’t come back from?” you ask, quietly. “It doesn’t fucking matter to me, Joel. I want this and I can tell that you do too.” The same hand that had been in his hair moves to the side of his face. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Losin’ you.”

You honestly hadn’t thought that he would actually give you a reply, at least not one that contained the truth, so when he does, it takes you completely by surprise.

“You won’t lose me,” you assure him, though you know better than to make a promise you weren’t absolutely certain you could keep in a world like this one. Joel had lost people, you had lost people, but you would do everything and anything that you could possibly do to keep from losing each other. “It’s like I told you in Lincoln, okay? We are in this together. I’ll never leave your side, Joel. Never.”

“But—”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

Joel leans down, letting his forehead rest against yours. “I want to. I want to believe you, I swear it. More than anythin’ in this world, I want to believe you. But my mind is sayin’ there’s just no fuckin’ way.”

You delicately touch your fingers to his chest, feeling his heartbeat again. “What about this, what does this say? This thing in here that I can feel racing against my fingertips as we speak?”

“It’s tellin’ me to make you mine.”

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you tilt your face up towards his for another kiss. This kiss is different from any of the others you two had shared that day.

No, this kiss was softer, it was tender—sweet like honey.

Loving, even.

“Then do it,” you encourage against his lips. “Make me yours.”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

“I do. More than anything, Joel.”

With your reassurance, he finally releases any hesitations he had, and Joel gives you a subtle nod of his head, one you almost didn’t catch.

He gingerly pushes you back onto the mattress and kisses you lightly on the lips one more time before he begins to trail his way down your neck. He continues to move down your chest and stomach, and as his nose skims against your skin with each kiss, Joel can still detect a hint of soap from your shower earlier that afternoon. As soon as he reaches your waist, his hands reach for the button and zipper of your jeans, undoing them both with ease. He lifts himself up on his knees, silently beckoning for you to lift up your hips so he can slide your jeans down your legs. You’d never been more grateful that you’d chosen a pair of pretty lace underwear instead of the usual cotton shit that you wore.

Joel hooks his index finger underneath the elastic waistband, slowly pulling them down your legs as well before tossing them aside. He lets his eyes lock themselves on every part of you, his burning desire for you only fueled by everything that he sees.

Much to your own surprise, you aren’t all too shy. There you are, lying before him completely bare—Joel can see everything, but you cannot possibly care less about any freckles, any stretch marks, any scars, or any other so-called imperfections on your body.

He’d let you see him—now you were letting him see you.

Joel would be lying if he said he’d never thought about this—thought about you like this. He had often tried his best to keep those thoughts at bay considering how much older he was than yourself, but fuck, he could never deny the fact that you were the prettiest damn thing he’d laid his eyes on since the world had gone to shit. Joel often imagined that every inch of you was nothing short of perfection and hell, he’d been right. He brings himself back down over you and lets his mouth make its way back down your body.

“Joel.”

The sound of your voice as you say his name is unrecognizable, to both you and to him. 

It’s low, husky, and like sweet music to his ears.

“What is it, baby?” He asks you as he stops right in between your legs. He glances up at you for a brief moment. His gaze meets yours, as if looking for permission to proceed. The instant he receives your nod of approval, Joel starts to plant another trail of burning kisses along the inside of your thighs, going back and forth from one to the other.

His beard scratches the delicate skin there as he carries on, moving slower and slower the further he goes up your legs in an effort to get your anticipation built up. You only find this agonizing and you’re just about ready to lose your goddamn mind. The moment you open up your mouth to tell him to cut it out with all of the teasing, Joel dips his head, his mouth finally moving to the apex of your thighs.

You gasp out his name, your back involuntarily arching off the bed.

Joel moans into you—something about how he just knew you would taste so fucking sweet—and lets his tongue swirl around your arousal, eliciting the most heavenly noises from you. He switches off between using long, firm strokes of his tongue over your clit and taking you into his mouth, his chosen technique causing your hips to buck upwards, asking for more. He hums against your cunt and lifts his arm, draping it across your hips to hold you down in place. The sounds escaping you, every curse word, every whimper, every little cry of pleasure, bounce off of the paper thin walls of the apartment.

Even though you’re certain your neighbors are getting an earful, the truth was that you couldn’t give two shits as to who heard you or not. Hell, there was a woman a few doors down the hallway who often threw suggestive glances at Joel when she saw him and you can only pray to the heavens above that she can hear what he’s doing to you.

You feel the beginning of an orgasm coiling up inside of you in your lower belly. It’s tightly wound, mere moments away from snapping and springing forward. With no sheets on the mattress for you to grasp, you clenched at air, trying your best to fight it in a futile attempt to draw the pleasure out for as long as you can. You never want this to end. Joel didn’t get the memo and he keeps on at it, and before long, his lips and tongue send you tumbling over the edge.

As you cry out his name over and over again, his mouth continues to keep at it slowly, helping you ride out the high of your orgasm. Once the sensation of the intense climax begins to subside, you drop your head back down onto the mattress and focus on trying to catch your breath.

Joel looks up at you and forces  himself to bite back his groan.

It’s  dim in the room, but the moonlight that filters in through the window illuminates what had to be the most stunning sight he’d ever fucking seen. Your hair wild, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth plump, swollen from his kisses.

Joel pulls himself back up to you. His mouth meets yours, letting you get a taste of yourself. He then lets his thumb graze over your bottom lip, asking you, “You alright?”

“Just a bit breathless is all.” Suddenly, it dawns at you—what comes next. Up until this moment you had been fine, and now, your nerves feel like they had been lit on fucking fire. You swallow harshly, knowing you had to tell him. “Joel?”

Sensing the sudden shift, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

 “Joel, I’ve never—the thing is, I’ve never—”

You stop, clamping your mouth shut, unable to say it out loud.

It takes  him a second or two, but he finally understands.

You’ve  never been with a man before. 

Not like that. Not like this.

“As much as I want you, we don’t have to go any further than this,” Joel assures you, his nose skimming lightly against your cheek. “You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, darlin’. No questions asked.”

And you believe him.

You know he would only take what you were willing to give him.

At this point, you were willing to give him everything.

Your hand reaches down between your bodies, brushing against the waistband of his jeans. “I don’t want to stop,” you tell him. “I really don’t.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you—?”

“Damn it, Joel! I said what I fucking said, now can you please get rid of these? Or am I going to have to do it for you?”

Joel drops his face into the crook of your neck for a second, letting out something mixed between a scoff and a chuckle before he finally obliges to your request.

He stands up from the mattress just long enough to unbuckle his old, worn out leather belt—he then unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off before climbing back over you.

You place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you.

As you do, you feel his hard, thick cock brush against the inside of your thigh.

 “Joel,” you gasp out his name, wetness pooling between your legs all over again.

“Askin’ you one last time, sweetheart.” Joel’s mouth ghosts over yours. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” You hope you don’t sound as desperate as you’re beginning to feel. “Please, Joel. I want you.”

You couldn’t have been anymore sure that this was what you wanted.

Still, that didn’t exactly stop the wave of apprehension from washing over you as you felt him settle himself between your thighs and against your entrance. Joel must have sensed your nervousness, because he pauses, pressing his lips against your forehead. He lets them linger for a moment, as if silently reassuring you that he would take it easy. He pushes himself inside of you, slowing down the further he goes. It hurts, at first. It’s a sharp feeling of discomfort unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Painful. You can’t help the small cry that escapes you, causing Joel to abruptly stop his movement. 

“Relax, baby,” Joel murmurs, taking your hand in his. He laces his fingers together with yours and gives it a gentle squeeze. He remains still as he waits, willing his body to listen to yours before picking up where he left off.

It takes you a minute to adjust to him, and while the discomfort doesn’t completely go away, a new sensation joins in, one of searing heat and the sudden urge to feel more of him.

Joel’s opposite hand is curled into a fist at the crown of your head, and he finds himself having to silently remind himself to get a grip. As much as he wants  to take you the way his body is telling him to take you, he refuses to do anything that can potentially hurt you. Though he’d given you his hand for the sake of comforting you, he found it ended up being more for his benefit than for yours. He holds it tightly as he gives another gentle, experimental thrust.

“Joel, move. Please. I need you to move.”

“Baby—”

“Please,” you all but plead him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and push your hips forward, wanting to feel every inch of him that you could.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out in a moan. As careful as he wants to be with you, he knows that if you keep it up, that would all go out the fucking window.

Any discomfort or pain that you might have felt initially vanishes completely, having been replaced with nothing but explosive waves of ecstasy that come with each and every single one of Joel’s thrusts.

There isn’t one single part of you that isn’t lost in just the most heavenly haze as he picks up his pace and delivers swift, smooth strokes. Just when you think it cannot possibly get any better, Joel dips his head and begins whispering into the hollow of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. Fuck, I’ve been dreamin’ of this for years now, y’know that?”

“Joel,” you whimper his name.

“You’re mine, you understand me? You’re all fuckin’ mine,” Joel whispers breathlessly. He continues to pick up the pace as he demands, “Tell me you’re mine, sweet girl. Need to hear you say it—”

Biting your lip, you look up into his eyes and nod your head, managing to find your voice in between your moans. “I’m yours—all fucking yours, Joel.”

You’re close and so is he, you can feel it.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out as his entire body begins to shudder. He gives you one last, deep thrust that brings you both to come at the exact same moment.

Joel collapses beside you onto his back, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath and recollect himself.

You’re in a similar state, though perhaps a little more shaken.

“C’mere.” Joel pulls you close to him, tucking you into his side. “You’re tremblin’ a little. You alright?”

“I’m alright.” You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. “Are you?”

He remains silent, as if thinking over his answer.

Your throat goes dry—he didn’t regret it, did he?

“Joel—”

“Earlier, you asked me if you were my weakness.”

You nod. “Yeah…”

Joel pulls you so that you’re laying across his chest. He holds you close, squeezing you as if he’s afraid someone’s going to come along and snatch you out of his grasp. “Pretty sure you know by now that you are,” he says, his fingers subconsciously running themselves through your hair. “You’re my weakness, my Achilles’ heel, whatever the fuck you wanna call it—all I know is that if somethin’ ever happens to you, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Joel.”

“What if I can’t keep you safe?”

You frown. “Joel, I’ve been by your side for what, six years now? And you’ve always kept me safe. Hell, you saved my ass on the night we met. If it hadn’t been for you showing up and scaring those guys away—” You stop, shoving the thought of what could have possibly happened to you that night out of your mind. “I told you. I’m the safest when I’m with you. I know I am.”

“But—”

You silence him with a kiss. “Joel, stop looking for a reason to push me away.” You toss him a small, exhausted smile. “Besides, I think it’s a little late for that now anyway, don’t you think?”

You lay your head back down onto Joel’s chest and he continues to run his hand through your hair, over and over again. He surely must have known that he’s lulling you into a deep sleep.

“Joel?” you say his name, drowsily.

“What is it, baby?”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you mumble into his chest. “Ever.”

Joel holds you closer, trying with every fiber of his being to set aside his fears as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Does Gallifrey have anything in the way of football (or uh. Soccer apparently. That's a very silly name) or any other sports?

What sports and games are there on Gallifrey?

Gallifreyans have an absolute drought when it comes to physical/contact sports. The only real physical sport is ...

🏀 Zero-Grav Hyperball: Played with balls and rackets in a zero-gravity environment, Zero-Grav Hyperball probably resembles racquetball, space-style.

Other games and board games include ...

🎩 Perigosto Stick Game: A form of Time Lord juggling where players use their powers to keep a 4-dimensional rod with a sphere or cube at the end in motion, preventing it from falling back into normal space-time. Playing with it over the age of 90 is considered a bit lame.

♟️ Gallifreyan 4D Chess: Pieces move on three vertically stacked boards and can also move forwards and backwards in time. Forcing the opponent into creating a paradox is a common way to win.

🎴 Gallifreyan Chequers: Played with red and white pieces, including unique roles like President's Cardinal and Chancellor's Castellan.

🃏Gallifreyan Playing Cards: These have the suits Flames, Owls, Clouds, Souls, Deeps, Mesmers, and Dominoes, with the face cards being the Hand, the Duke, and the Rogue. A popular game is 5D Cribbage.

🧠 Mindbending (Time Lord Wrestling): A telepathic battle where contestants try to regress each other through their previous incarnations. Although a game, it can end in a deathlock if a contestant is pushed back to the point of looming, so it is considered dangerous.

🧩 Gallifreyan Labyrinth Game: The goal is to get opponents lost in a dimensionally transcendental maze and manipulate their movements by subconsciously training them to make certain turns. Gallifrey once had labyrinth games on every street corner.

🎲 Sepulchasm: Played on a board shaped like a mountain range, players use psychic powers to keep their pieces suspended over a chasm created by certain dice rolls. To win, you need to keep pieces in the air longer than your opponent.

🔮 Eighth Man Bound: An extreme rite of passage where students at the Academy use a symbiosonic generator to predict their future incarnations while their classmates chant their name ominously. It claims the lives of 15 Gallifreyan students every macrosemester.

🪐 Scratchin: Details unspecified, but it’s another popular Gallifreyan game.

🏫So ...

They don't engage in physical sports much; their focus is more on the mind and using their chronopsionic powers. Their games also have a bit of a fatality rate. Play safe.

Related:

What is Gallifreyan music like?: Musical instruments and genres on Gallifrey.

What’s on Time Lord TV?: Visual entertainment on Gallifrey.

Factoid: Gallifreyan Magazines

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 35: In Which Dreams May Hint of Reality

::UNDER 18? DO NOT INTERACT. This chapter contains material NOT SUITED for you::

Her night had not started the way she wanted, to say the least.

Heisenberg had barged into the manor flailing papers and maps. Alcina had barely woken when he began his tantrum, and she was less than pleased to have to keep up. As he carried on and she guzzled blood-wine, standing with hip against the counter, donning nothing more than her black satin robe, trying to remain neutral in her otherwise less than amused state, the news he brought forced her to get in gear.

The rumblings reported over the last several days were traveling. And they had stopped right at their front door.

One of the largest entrances to their underground was where the last of the quaking had ended, and that happened to be where the old tunnels and the new had been severed many, many years ago. But the larger issue, which just seemed to follow this nonsense, was that they were yet again running into dead ends. A brick wall. Absolutely nothing to explain or reveal one fucking thing that had gone on.

Alcina tongued her teeth at Karl as he rambled, explaining he already had men in the area and was keeping post until further instruction or decisions could be made.

Truly, though, what decisions were there to be made?

Alcina ran a slender set of fingers through her tussled hair and let a long sigh escape her lungs before she spoke, clinking her class down on the marble counter before focusing back to Karl. The girls, of course, had allowed themselves into this uninvited meeting and Alcina wasn't in the mood to fight them, and since their heart-to-heart, she wasn't planning to dismiss them.

"Girls?" she asked through her sleep stained voice, "would you like to aid Heisenberg with intel?" 

Her offer sprung glee upon each of her daughters faces and a small smirk graced her own.

"Very well. Heisenberg - I'm allowing you to do whatever it is you see fit for the time being. I will contact Dmitri and Donna, we will make some plan of action as we go along. But as it has shown from the minute this circus started; the clowns are running it. This little horror funhouse has taxed me beyond measure. Not that this leaves this room, but I'm running out of ideas and courses of action to take." 

Another sigh left her unpainted lips and she rolled her shoulders gently, "there has not been one sighting or attack since the last on me, and since then we seem to just be lead on wild goose chases that only grow our stock pile of questions. I'm hesitant to put too much effort into anything at this point for the fear that the real problem has yet to make itself known... But, I trust you and your men," she said with an astute tone, "and girls, I want you to be very careful please. You're all quite capable, I'm aware, but this is no game... I want your best wits about you - understood?"

There was a muted enthusiastic nod from each daughter, which made Alcina smile warily, but in turn gave a stern look to Karl who threw his hands up.

"You've got my word; I'll keep extra watch over them. My men will take just as good of care of them as you or I, promise!" he beamed, "I could use some sneaky vamps at my side."

"Then it's settled. I'll get working on my study of the areas of interest and get Donna on the line."

Karl, her girls, and Alcina said goodbye and went on their separate ways.

Alcina lit up a cigarette and took several pensive drags, laid it down gently in the ash tray and settled back down into her chair.

Her desk had maps and several other papers strewn about for which she was combing over carefully. She'd gotten off the phone with Donna not 15 minutes ago and was patiently waiting for her company to conjure a plan of some sort.

As she thought about how this was going to unfold, and if by an annoying turn of events she had to make the whole city aware of the possible pending dangers, how much trouble was this going to cause her military and all the other clans in the area. And Mother Miranda. Where the fuck was she and why hadn't she a care in the world? Fuck it and fuck her. The thought gave her pause and she reached for the sharp collar of her cream colored blouse and straightened it, tucked one side of her hair behind her ear and continued mulling over the map and scribbles from Heisenberg.

Without much wherewithal as to how much time had passed, a soft knock rapped at the door; Alcina's eyes shot up and Donna entered, looking stern and eager to get to work.

From the bag at her side, Donna pulled out a thermos and smiled at her Matriarch, "I figure you'd need something more... potent for what we've got ahead of us."

What a gem.

Alcina smiled knowingly, "you know we're not supposed to dig into the blood stashes unless it's an emergency."

"I have plenty of strings I can and do pull."

"Mmm yes, you wicked little marionette artist."

"Shut up and drink."

Donna's wink softened Alcina's face that had been contorted with concentration and she took a sip.

Ah. Warm blood. Such a reprieve from the blood-wine that was starting to dull her taste buds.

She thought of you once more, a frequently occurring theme in the last six days. How she missed you. Alcina was growing weary not just by the onslaught of mishap after mishap, but being away from you. She wouldn't be away from you much longer. She couldn't. It was becoming physically debilitating to miss you this much.

"Right... so," Alcina huffed for the millionth time this night, "Dmitri will station here, Sybil and her crew here, and if something does surface, we should by all rights be covered and prepared, yes?"

Donna nodded, flicking the rogue bang from her face, "I don't see any other means of thwarting what might be coming our way without littering our military at every goddamn corner of the underground. Karl will have everyone armed as if they were going to war with God himself, so if our enemy, which may or may not even exist, wishes to play... I'd say we're as fortified as we can be."

Worn eyes took a glance at the clock and Alcina physically withered into her chair, "it's almost 9 AM. Let's call it, shall we?"

"I've had about as much as I can take of it."

They exchanged nods and Donna rose to begin packing up her bag, "I'll speak with Dmitri and Karl, get everyone on board and mobilized."

"Thank you, I appreciate everything you've done."

"Think nothing of it," she smiled.

As Donna was preparing to leave, Alcina cleared her throat as she stood and rounded her desk, "Donna," she began softly, "I will be leaving early tomorrow night, and I won't be reachable until sunrise."

The brunette paused at the door and looked to her friend with a silent understanding, "I see," she replied carefully, "be safe, please?"

Alcina nodded, "always."

~

The manor was empty when she went to bed and it was empty when she woke. It didn't bother her so much aside from knowing her girls were now in the active zone, but, Alcina had to release them from their cages. They weren't dolls to be kept in glass boxes. They were, just as Cassandra had argued; fighters, warriors, cunning and intelligent, just as she had raised them.

As she began to get ready, Alcina felt relief roll off her shoulders at the thought of seeing you. A smile rested on her lips from the moment she stepped foot through her door to the time she stepped out into the crisp air of the winter night. The snugness of her long black trench coat held no warmth the way your arms did, and oh, how she couldn't wait to be back within them.

-

Saturday had been a full episode of the twilight zone.

You wouldn't call it a funk, but a definite whirlpool of a never-ending spiral, yes.

All you could think about was yesterday and everything that had happened. How it felt. How it happened. How cryptic but overall comforting Malka had been. Her big reveal about being a Jewish Mystic. Her telling you you were gifted, had magick, had olde blood inside you.

Was this the answer to all your life-long questions?

No, not fucking really.

It only made your orphan childhood more questionable and gave you more inquiries than you were sure you'd ever have answers to. 

This was fun.

More than anything, you wanted to go back over to Malka's and pick her brain apart about what she knew and what she was keeping secret. You so desperately wanted answers and somehow you knew you weren't going to get any anytime soon. Sitting with that was hard. But somehow you also had a knowing in the back of your mind that everything would eventually come together. That was almost just as unnerving.

Had Alcina spurred on all of this? Was her vampiric nature the catalyst that shot everything into full motion? Yeah, things had gotten strange when she came into your life. Yeah, odd things began to happen. But, did that mean she'd done it? Or was this inside you all along and you'd just not seen it until you began believing in all the things that you were conditioned to accept were just fairytales?

Oh my GOD. So many questions!

You were quite exhausted from the day before still, which annoyed you, so you spent most of your day lounging on the couch. Took a really, really long shower and made it a point to cook a comfort meal and just let yourself relax for once.

Oddly, you were able to quiet your mind when you put on one of Alcina's recordings and slipped into a dreamland of your woman.

Fuck. Missing her was killing you!

Evening rolled in mercilessly and you were beginning to feel something. You didn't know what, how very familiar, but somehow you could almost feel Alcina in the air as the darkness crept in. Like you could reach out and touch her. Smell her. Taste her.

And as you came around to your room from the living room, there she was.

Tall and stunning and looking like the dark goddess you'd sell your soul to to bind yourself to her forever.

The two of you converged in the middle of your room, arms flung around one another, lips in a fiery exchange of desire and need and you both began discarding clothing as fast as you could manage.

"Y-you're - you're alright?" you asked mid-breath and tug of her coat, your eyes in a needy way to see and make sure she was here.

Alcina paused only briefly, her long cool hands cupping the sides of your much warmer face, the slate of her hues boring into you with a concern of her own, "yes draga, I'm fine - I'm here - and I've missed you so."

Her voice was nothing less than celestial music to your ears and you melted right back into her.

"Good," you huffed as you kissed her again and again, "let me show you how much I've missed you back."

Clothes were tossed in every direction before you'd thrown her to the bed and tanged yourself into her. Her scent threw your most primal desires into a frenzy as you kissed every inch of her you could find, never getting too far away to make sure the closeness lasted and endured. Your hands could not grip and pull and tug and caress enough. Her flesh made everything inside of you parched and starving for more.

"Draga," Alcina drawled with a sex-drenched tone, "my gods how I've missed you."

You were everywhere at once. Alcina felt the fiend inside her growl, claw to be released as you slithered between her legs while your mouth travelled down her sternum, kisses hot and piercing as the lust took over, the wetter and sloppier you became as you made your way down her body had her insides fitful with need.

Her moans of approval were all you wanted, at least, for the time being. Hearing her beg for your love gave you a new drive and focus as your mouth found its desired location and began to lap with pure intent.

Alcina whimperingly cried out at the pleasure. Somewhere along the lines of losing all control over herself and the relief to be with you threw all out the window. It was just the two of you, safe and sound, together, locked together in the thralls of ecstasy and it's all she wanted.

Her thighs trembled around your head as you worked her over, tasting your favorite flavor in every inch, relishing the softness of her and the tugging in your hair from her fingers. She was the purest vision before you as you gazed upon her heaving chest, the rise and fall of her ribcage with each breath, the hitch, the release, the sight of her head thrown back in your pillow as her breasts moved so perfectly in tandem along with the rest of her body. 

God. She really was perfection.

You snaked an arm from under where it was so securely fastened to her hip and slipped three fingers inside of her, the immediate response from the pulsing of her walls and the jagged moan that spilled from her throat giving you all the more energy you didn't know you had to please this woman until your own body gave out.

Soon your name began to tumble from her lips, breathy and whining, the expression on her face of desperate need for completion making your own desire drip and pool between your legs. She was close, she was so close.

And the cries that complimented the full body quake of her orgasm made you moan all the louder into her sex as you thrust your fingers with the perfect pace until she was panting and gasping for her breath.

You slowed your pace and motions of your tongue and watched her with pride, making sure to imprint this on your mind so you may never forget the beauty of her falling apart at your will.

The entirety of Alcina's body was thrumming with satisfaction. Dropped into an ocean of crashing waves of pleasure after pleasure, her swelling hunger for you never seeming to ebb, only growing, growing stronger.

And bright gold eyes now beamed down at you as Alcina grabbed for you, pulling you up and under her as the beast you tamed came thrashing from its cage to devour you.

She lay now at your side, yet all encompassing, her body pressed into you as she hiked your leg with a long one of her own, her lips finding yours only to moan as she tasted herself there. Her tongue requested entrance and you gave it, the heat of your breath and tongue making her croon into the surrendering kisses until her hand began to travel.

"You're mine, draga mea?" Alcina husked against your lips, breathy and dangerous.

You all but shuddered as you felt her fingers slip between your quivering legs and sink their way inside, not giving you time to answer. Her pace kept you in a frozen state of slack-jaw, a held breath, and desperately clinging to her shoulders with your hands.

"You're mine," she whispered again, this time more forceful, demanding an answer, "aren't you, draga mea?

The moan the escaped from your throat could no longer be held captive and you collapsed under her, "yes!" you whined, "I'm all yours - forever - always."

Alcina growled next to your ear at your answer, her lips kissed at the shell as she thrust her fingers deeper, harder, "good. Because I am yours just as you are mine, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

You were unable to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. She felt to good and you couldn't help but whine as she was so close, possessing you, claiming you, all the things you wanted from missing her so much.

She curled her fingers and you shuddered, the length of her fingers finding that spot she knew so well, pulling, coaxing, demanding you cum for her silently as her palm began massaging your clit in perfect tandem.

"Take me," you whined, "take me, Alcina. Make me yours, make me never forget how much I'm yours."

Alcina obliged.

Her overall strength and the way she was fucking you had the whole bed rocking. You clung to her for dear life as your completion was all but nigh, arching your neck to her, begging for her bite.

Your desire was her command and she latched down on your throat, unable, herself, to keep from drinking the quenching elixir that was your blood. She felt you falling and held onto you possessively, drinking down your orgasm just as it roared through you. The choked and mangled sounds of your moans making her smile through the bite while she pushed you again, and again, through at least three orgasms until you could take no more.

You could not see straight, in fact, you couldn't even open your eyes. You simply pulled Alcina down on top of you and kissed at her blindly, savoring her closeness and the cloud of bliss you were so happily nestled in.

"I love you," you whispered through a deep breath.

Alcina hummed happily, "and I love you, draga mea."

While she couldn't put her finger on it, and while she was not complaining, as full as she was on pleasure and your blood, something had changed. Something was different. Something in you had shifted. 

Still, she remained stroking your hair as you rest your head on her chest in bed. Content to have you, be with you, bask in everything that was you, no matter this shift she could very much feel.

Your demeanor, as far as she could tell, had not changed. Nor had your feeling for her, obviously. But what was it, then?

Alcina beckoned to look into your eyes and tilted up your chin with her finger, leaning to kiss your lips feather light and smile at the beauty before her. She didn't know if her eyes were sparkling as much as yours, but she hoped they were.

"Tell me about your week?" she asked softly, tracing her index finger over your cheek and jawline.

You couldn't help but sigh.

"Uuuugh," you groaned lightly, "I'd rather just forget this week without you and continue on with life right here, right now, never to change."

While you had smiled through that, Alcina tilted her head curiously, "was it that terrible?" she inquired with concern.

"I mean... it wasn't horrific, it was just..." you stopped, wondering if you should bring anything up, if you had the energy, and how she might receive it, "I dunno. Just a... weird week I guess."

The change Alcina had sensed now seemed to flicker at your reluctance to revisit your week, but she remained silent and felt it out, only to find it had scattered away as quickly as it had appeared.

"Tell me about yours, instead?" you countered with a chuckle.

"I... wish I could, draga," Alcina responded with a sigh, "it has been tiresome, though."

You noticed now as you had risen to speak with her, she seemed less alight than usual. It was reminiscent of when she'd come back to you after her attack.

"I know the feeling," you offered as you moved to stroke her face, smiling warmly as she leaned her cheek into her palm, "can we just escape life all together? Run away? Just, you and me against the world?"

Her chuckle was light and airy, "oh, my dearest love, if only we could... I doubt I would much press back on the idea."

You sat back against the wall on your side of the bed and sighed with a grin, admiring how stunning she was in the amber glow of your salt lamp. And then your mind went racing once again against your control. Nearly screaming to be heard, taunting you to tell Alcina everything that had happened, because surely, surely she would understand?

"I uh..." you began against your better judgement, "I've had some really strange things happen this week, things I'm still not entirely sure how to explain."

Your confession knocked her clean out of her comfort and she sat more upright, her visage tweaked into a deeper concern and worry than she wanted to have. But you were once more giving off puffs of this invisible shift that was beginning to make her tense. She prayed you were not about to say what she dreaded you would.

"What happened, draga mea?" Alcina asked as she grasped for your hand, leaning into you to gauge your expressions.

The look on her face made you hurt; she was wholly vested in that stupid little sentence you dropped like an idiot.

"I..." 

How did you begin this? How did you drop a bomb like; I think I might be a magickal being but I'm not entirely sure what, who, when, or how, and uhm, I dunno, I may or may not have made three teenage boys bleed from their eyeballs with mind powers I didn't know I had? If that was even close to what had happened? Oh, and the dream I had of you where you threatened not so lightly to kill me?

At your hesitation, Alcina moved a little closer to you and cupped your jaw, and very intensely looked into your eyes, "draga... please tell me, what's happened?"

Fuck.

"You haven't been harmed, have you?" she continued.

"No, no, nothing like that, I'm ok... there's just," you tried, wondering so hard how to explain this and thwart her worry, "there's been things happening with me that I can't explain, or really understand, and it's been pretty consuming."

That did not help her apprehension.

"Like what, dragoste?

You could hear the hint of panic in her voice and that was not what you had intended, so you had to speak quickly, "I uh - my dreams," you sputtered, deciding in the less than dire direction against your better judgment, "my dreams have just been insane. The other night I had a dream about you..."

Bad dreams, is that all? Alcina thought, holding off putting her tension away just yet.

"There were - there were dead bodies everywhere, blood everywhere, and I was walking through this place, no idea really where I was going - but somehow I found you - but you were... you were like 9 feet tall, and you had scythes for fingernails, and you were surrounded by all these dead, decaying people, and you were feeding from someone..."

Oh... I suppose that is awfully graphic.

"And then you dropped the body, and when you turned to face me you had white eyes -"

Alcina's breath hitched violently, Oh god.

"They were almost, like, glowing?"

No. No, no. 

"Then you told me you were a monster and killing was all that you did, and that you'd kill me eventually -"

She was hardly able to listen to the rest of your dream; the fear inside of her for your safety and your knowing of things you absolutely should not, baring its ugly teeth and rearing its uglier head was making her own head spin. Everything began to fall around her. Her panic, her worry, her anger at herself for not being able to squash whatever threat still may be running rampant, that was not only a danger to the underground, but to her daughters, you, her, all that she loved. And you, you. She still had no idea how or why you were different but you were tiptoeing far too close to the edge of making yourself a target and forfeiting any safety you could have if she didn't have her wits about her. You shouldn't know or see white glowing eyes, never, not in a dream stance or in real life - never!

Like the crack of a glow stick, the upset at her loss of control over her emotions and the situation shoved her into an unexpected blood-rage.

She felt the rush of her power surge through her forcefully and she jumped out of bed, looking down at her hands through blown pupils as her claws began to appear, her teeth ached as they elongated and Alcina choked down the ragged breaths that were calling for blood. She was on fire, in the worst sort of way, this bout of blood-rage felt so much more intense than she could ever recall before and she didn't know if she could control herself, she felt lightheaded and weightless, like she could leap over buildings in one bound if she so had the desire.

You had never seen anything like this in your life.

Alcina had moved with a swiftness that made your head spin, and that was less than the most jarring of it. Almost as if mirroring your dream, her normal nails that were always glassine and lovely, began to grow to at least 6 inches long, now sharp and darkened by some unseen reason. And her eyes, very much unlike your dream, were black as a void in space. There was no white left anywhere.

She was huffing hastily and you began to fear for yourself. She seemed unhinged, lost in something that was not her, and you didn't know what was happening. 

You hated this apprehension you felt.

Alcina's eyes shot up at you and you noticeably jerked. You felt it, she saw it, and the silence was almost deafening.

"I..." 

Alcina's voice was but a hush as she grabbed hastily for her black robe off the back of the chair and disappeared into the hallway, shutting your bedroom door behind her.

You were now alone with your thoughts that were too scared to make a sound.

[cadybear420]

Masterlist of Gifts, Inspired Works, etc. made by others (NOTE: List is subject to updates)

This means stuff like:

Any works that have been gifted to me– including commissions, requests, or suggestions that I place, as well as works that were part of a Secret Pal Exchange Event.

Collaborations.

Additions to/Edits of any of my own works.

Any works that are inspired by discussions.

Any works that are inspired by any of my edits, stories, headcanons, art, etc.

Any works that feature any of my MCs.

I will not and never will accept any works that include the use of Generative AI, and they will not be included on this list. Please let me know if a work is AI-generated or possibly AI-generated and I don't notice.

OG HSS: Aiden Zhou mini moodboard, made by @lovealexhunt

A simple and sweet moodboard! The Promposal CG is easily one of my favorite Aiden moments in the game, as is the scene where they're on Hearst's rooftop together and Aiden tells MC that they're his muse.

OG HSS: "Moving", written by @tveitertotwrites (for December 2023 Secret Pal event)

A sweet short story about an older Aiden and Evie moving out of their long-time family home, after their kids (OCs still pending) have grown up and moved out. I love imagining Aiden and Evie in their more elder years; in my headcanons, they're certainly a "high school sweethearts" couple that stays together pretty much the rest of their lives and happily grows old together. Seeing the two of them being so affectionate with each other as an older couple is just precious.

And it also fits so well with my headcanon of Evie being a very sentimental and nostalgic person! She values memories a lot and has a tendency for visual/physical associations with memories, so her holding back to look around the empty house and go through the years of memories is spot on.

OG HSS: Angy Aiden, drawn by @hydn-jpg

Angy Aiden is precious, like who hurt you babygirl I will eat their souls for you

OG HSS: Aiden x Evie cuddling with Aiden in Evie's lap, drawn by @hydn-jpg and commissioned by @lilyoffandoms

I'm a total whore for seeing guys sitting on their ladies' laps, and Aiden and Evie were captured perfectly here! Aiden grinning and blushing with his arms wrapped around Evie's neck/shoulders is just super adorable, like you know that man is *proud* to be her boyfriend. And likewise, Evie is proud to be his girlfriend, and holding him him close to her by his waist which is such an Evie thing for her to do haha.

OG HSS: Aiden x Evie sharing a dance ft. Aiden in a dress, drawn by @lilyoffandoms

This is based on an edit I did of Aiden in the premium prom dress option for f!MC. Evie is of course wearing the premium suit option from the game, and seeing them share a dance in those outfits– especially with Evie dipping Aiden– is a dream come true.

The mood is just perfect with the two of them grinning and looking into each other's eyes lovingly! And the background that's mostly dark except for the lighting behind them really captures the feeling of "the world around you seems to fade away as you focus only on your partner" that is so very *them*.

ILITW: Jo x Lucas after a party ft. Jo bridal carrying a drunk Lucas, drawn by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd (for February 2024 Secret Pal event)

This one is based on a Q&A headcanon I had about Lucas being the bigger lightweight at parties and how he likes to be bridal carried home by Jo. The artstyle is so perfect for the ILA characters, and I love seeing Lucas drunk with his hair and glasses and sweater all messy! Jo gently teasing him is definitely something she'd do.

Both of their outfits are spot on for them. I especially love the open flannel shirt and the carabiner, they're definitely things Jo would wear. Lucas having a lil earring isn't something I'd thought about before but I am very here for it. And of course, their rings!

OG HSS: Aiden Zhou Portrait, drawn by @lilyoffandoms

That bright smile! My boi is happy, just as he deserves UuU

OG HSS: Evie x Aiden Drabble, written by @inlocusmads

I am in love with the Evie x Aiden banter here. They're captured so perfectly, especially Aiden! I love seeing the description of Evie's "tell" to Aiden and all the little details in his behavior. And you know I'm obsessed with Evie calling Aiden "Pretty Boy"! Evie loves her beautiful nerd bf.

I also love the mention of Aiden getting into video games with Nishan and Sakura. I don't know if I ever shared it, but one of my oldest HSS headcanons is actually that Evie and Aiden like to do gaming double-dates with Nishan and Sakura fairly often (and that Aiden is initially kind of crap at most computer games haha). So this part is very on-point.

OG HSS: Evie Picrew, made by @inlocusmads

To celebrate Evie being MC of the Month for March! The hairstyle and clothes suit her so perfectly! Rainbows and blazer jackets ftw.

OG HSS: Gyaru!Aiden, edited by @pulpitude

An edit of one of my own edits! I am very here for this alternate take on Aiden. The color scheme, the new hair, the nails, all of it. And it all looks so polished!

The flower in the hair is probably my favorite, simply because Aiden is precious and deserves to wear flowers uwu

OG HSS: An actual HSS Book 3 scene where Evie lifts up Aiden, drawn by @callmebeem and commissioned by @jerzwriter (a March 2024 giveaway gift)

A drawn version of a scene from the story, and frankly it delivered! Evie getting to lift Aiden!!! They both look so beautiful!!! The way they look at each other!!!! The way she holds him!!!!! The way he holds onto her!!!! It's so *them*. Everything about them is just perfect.

And the mood lighting with the city in the background makes it all the better. I always had a thing for cityscape views, especially when it's lit up at night– and I like to think that that sort of aesthetic goes well with Evie and Aiden. And it looks amazing in this piece for sure.

OG HSS: Aiden x Evie mini moodboard, made by @lovealexhunt

Another sweet moodboard! Like the first one, it captures Aiden and Evie so well. I don't remember which part of the story the quote came from (even after 7 playthroughs and counting of Aiden's route) but regardless, it will never not make my heart flutter.

OG HSS: Trans Girl Aiden (Giselle) meets Genderfucking Cis Guy Aiden, made by @pulpitude

What started out as a discussion about favorite foods has led to this blessed meeting. And this picrew shows it perfectly. They both just look so adorable! Everything chosen for them is just perfect. I'm especially obsessed with Aiden's skirt and the purple flowers in his hair. I just love black-and-purple color schemes for Aiden. It suits him so well to me and I don't know why.

ILB: Harper Addison giving Tom a Kissie, drawn by @lilyoffandoms (for April 2024 Secret Pal event)

Everything about this is so precious! Harper and Tom look so good in this artstyle, especially Tom's smile. He's an absolute ball of sunshine and it shows. He deserves all the love. And Addison is happy to give him all the love and kissies.

And I love that you included the detail of why Harper would wear the pink-and-grey casual outfit option! While I'd say red and black is her preferred color scheme and favorite colors, she definitely loves to wear pink-and-grey every now and then too. I just love that for them and I love that you included it.

OG HSS: Solrin's 2 Truths and a Lie, written by @somerandomjewelleryonthefloor

This was inspired by some of the character conversations I've made on here! This was such an enjoyable read and I loved getting to know Solrin for the first time!

OG HSS: Evie and Solrin working on English homework, drawn and written by @somerandomjewelleryonthefloor

Our MCs get to meet! And Evie just looks amazing here! Both of them do of course, but I just especially love how good you drew my MC. The hair texturing is gorgeous! And Sol's abs! They 100% would be buff besties.

And the dialogue bit is great too! Evie with the writer's block is so real. I imagine she also would often tune out of the books she has to read for English, but when Sol's asking for help she's just like "well what am I supposed to do, IDK how to stay invested in a book I don't care for" haha

OpH: "It's Bugging Me", written by @jerzwriter

This was such a cute and funny text fic! I just love their dynamic, and Tobias is such a tease! Such a good blend of sugar and spice, how quickly they can go from sweet talk to banter and then back to sweet talk. Also Casey going "Yey" is just the best thing ever, like same.

OG HSS: Alan in some f!MC outfits + Makeup, edited by @where-the-wind-travels

All of these came out so amazingly, and all of these are on-point for Alan's style!!! They look so much better on him frfr... and I love that we've both edited him into the cheerleader and floral top outfits.

Extra props to you for doing the lacy top outfit because I was very unsure about editing it onto him myself lol. The sleeves looked so difficult and it always intimidated me. But I definitely like your take on it because it still looks stylish with only one sleeve (and also as more midriff bearing hehe).

HSS: Julian Castillo yearbook photo, made by @rosesnink

CUNT JULIAN! CUNT JULIAN!! CUNT JULIAN!!! And I love highlighting that he's grown so much from how he was in Prime.

OG HSS: Solrin's story in HSS, written by @somerandomjewelleryonthefloor

I love love love reading about Solrin's experience of Berry High. She's such an interesting character! I also just adore seeing people's different takes on their own MCs. There's just something special about people building their own versions of Choices MCs.

I 100% wanna do something similar for Evie. But I'm very undecided if I should keep it concise like this or go super in-depth...

Nightbound: Funko Pop Love, written by @ladylamrian

This fic was so cute and sweet!!! Alex is precious, and I am in love with her and Nik's protectiveness of each other. Her playing with the Funkos is everything to me too. She's the epitome of "sunshine and protector" and I love it.

OG HSS: Aiden and Giselle (transfem!Aiden) Sleepover, edited by @where-the-wind-travels

They are sooooo CUTE together!!!!!! I am just so here for this crossover, they would be such a power duo. 100% giving me twins vibes. Also, Aiden stealing Gi's makeup? So fucking real

HSS: Julian x Quartz, edited by @somerandomjewelleryonthefloor

Quartz is so pretty!!! I especially love her makeup and lipstick. And I'm weirdly in love with the ring you gave to Julian, it suits him so well.

LOA: Fiona and Gigi at the beach, edited by @choicesmc

They look so good together! Fiona especially slays but both of them together are so good. And I love how their swimwear matches too!!!

ROD: Adelaide and Maya, edited by @where-the-wind-travels

Their outfits are amazing!! They look so good together!!! Their outfits look so good together!!!! An amazing duo.

Also how did I miss "addi and maya aka the girls that pumped and dumped colt kaneko" in the tags the first time because it is PERFECTTTTTT

OG HSS: Aiden Portraits, drawn by @rjschoicesstuff

Aiden looks so amazing in your artstyle! It suits him so well! My beautiful baby boy

I am also so feral over him in glasses. I've tried editing him in glasses before but for some reason it looked off? But after seeing this I have been awakened to the truth. Aiden looks so freaking good in glasses.

[bionicboxes]

The Mannequin and Silly Kitty don’t really need elaboration on where they are in the mall but I felt like Tick and Tock needed some further elaboration on the matter. 

So, they’re from a place in the food court, ‘Wonderland Theatre’ (name pending), real retro theming. Designed some of the other animatronics that’d be there as well, though Tick and Tock are the only Alive ones, currently at least. Its not really relevant but I imagine the Rat King came from the same circus Ollie did originally, it’s had some changes but Ollie would probably still recognize it. 

Cut for further rambling haha! 

Besides Tick and Tock coming from here, I think this might be where Mary works! See, I had imagined when Dolly meets back up with Mary (them being friends that had grown distant recently) after Love Bugg prodding them to go out and socialize, it’s by coincidence at the mall when Dolly goes to eat, since Mary is working wherever that is- and I figure, hey, this is totally the place Dolly would go. And its totally a place Mary would choose to work at because she’d love a food place that decided to be a little fun and silly in the face of modern Boringness and Unification of how Every store Ever looks. 

I also think it would be! very funny! that there was something Paranormal right under Dolly and Mary’s (and Sammy but he probably didn’t go here except to see Mary while she was working sometimes maybe) noses the whole time! Probably even before Dolly brought Love Bugg to life! They could’ve found out about the ‘bringing inanimate objects to life’ thing wayyyy before working on Ollie if only they were there at the right time. Probably best they learned it from Ollie, though. 

Some additional notes! Rat King breaks the color palette of the other three just a weee bit because of its origins of not being built for the Wonderland! You probably noticed there’s a bit of theming going on here as well; each have a card suit (Diamond for Tick, Spade for Tock, Heart for Rat King, and Club for Teatime) as well as an alice in wonderland character they are (vaguely) based on (The White Rabbit for Tick and Tock, the Queen of Hearts for Rat King, and the Mad Hatter for Teatime). Plus, I did have the idea of them all being ‘rodents’- rabbits aren’t actually but you know what I mean, small mammal guys with those Vibes. They used to be classified as rodents, at least, so I’m counting it. 

[raccoonfallsharder]

starlorn .⋆☁︎:･꧂

[anticipated 4/22]

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 6/25+ | wip | wordcount: pending.

pearl pleads her case. warnings below.

It had been obvious, even to those morons — someone had made massive changes to the system. Had improved it — made it better than ever. A couple idiots tried to claim credit but Tullk and the Captain had looked at them with dubious sneers on their faces, eyes half-squinted in disbelief. A few hours later, when the Captain had been alone in his quarters — that’s when the Monster had taken the risk.  Had talked to him. Now the monster sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. No use lamenting that particular tragedy. The summary of it is that he’d been searching for the same thing with Lylla, he knows. He’d escaped the Eclector and spent years in and out of prisons, making and losing money, hating the universe more and more. Until, blinded by his own greed — wanting someone, anyone to accept him, someone to be his, someone he could belong to — he’d had the idea to stalk Wyndham. To extort him. To demand a companion of his very own. The Monster had been reckless in his want for a friend, a partner, an ally — thinking he needed it, thinking he could have it — as if everything he was didn’t fly in the face of the natural order of things. As if there could be anything in this universe suited for him, when he himself had never been suited for anything but an incinerator. And his selfishness had resulted in another innocent lifeform being tortured and murdered. He can’t keep the pearl. He can’t take care of her out here, not the way she needs. Not the way she deserves. How could he be trusted to? He’d brutalized her when she was vulnerable, trapped in her gilded cage — gotten her all tied up in her pretty skirts and smashed her lovely face into the ground, like some kind of goddamn villain. He’s a selfish bastard but there’s a reason he stays solo these days.  Tying someone to himself is a guarantee that, at best, they’ll be miserable. Or worse:  they’ll be dead.  No, he tells himself sleepily, leaning back in his chair. The best thing he can do is drop her somewhere safe. Somewhere nice, and comfortable, and welcoming. Somewhere that’s suited to her, far better than he is. But — he should’ve cleaned her injuries tonight, he thinks hazily as his eyelids weigh themselves down over his blurring stare. The tangle of cables and buttons and switches on the ceiling slowly shadow away with every blink. He should’ve rebandaged her. He should’ve made sure she’d eaten; he should’ve— He jolts awake. It’s still the middle of the sleep shift, but he’s awake now, and he’s hungry. Maybe a snack, and he can dick around with the leftovers of the dismantled Hadron Enforcer, see if he can fashion anything smaller but equally devastating and destructive from the remnants— Except Wyndham’s pearl is gone.

from chapter seven. starlorn. ✩ cicatrix masterlist.⋆☁︎:･꧂

a story about scars. two survivors learn about themselves, each other, hope, and the universe. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs.

WARNINGS for this chapter: self-injury (biting), continued references to grooming and confinement. rocket’s explicit running commentary and the faintest whisper of d/s vibes. brief mention of bondage.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬

[fungicidecarhorn64ad]

The Gallow's Diary

Greetings intrepid readers, if you are reading this I am either dead, proof reading this or have misplaced my diary. If it's the third scenario please return it to where you found it, if you're in the same location you found this as you read this I'm probably in close proximity so please scream as loud as possible to get my attention.

Now onto the meat of this meat pie of a diary, btw meat pie very underrated currently eating one as I write. Now to the topic at hand!

My name is Martyn, code name: The Gallows, for it represents my goal to be a martyr like the freedom fighters of our great country (which is Ireland). It also connects to something I recently discovered about myself, I learned that I have the power to manipulate ropes with my mind, I'm thankful that my name matches up to the powerset I possess.

I know my goal for (motive pending will add later) I can't do it alone, so I gathered a group, nah a society of fellow teens who want to help my crusade for (put motive here).

First we have Clayton, code name: Mud Man, he is my second in command the Sheriff Nottingham to my Prince John he was one of the biggest players in forming my team. His ability to summon mud and substances of the like (ex: rocks, dirt) prove surprisingly useful! He seems to be even able to conjure the materials out of nothing, which granted not much use but is still highly useful in certain circumstances.

Next is Oran, code name: Ouroboros, he seems to be the more technical brains of the group (sometimes he does get a bit annoying) and was able to befriend some extra dimensional snake who can contort itself and the space inside it, the two seem to be in tandem with each other I don't know much of what is going on with it but as they say, never look a gift horse in the mouth or gift snake.

Who's next, oh.... Lance. gonna be brutally honest, he's here to bulk up our numbers. He's not a bad fighter in fact his kicks are extremely deadly, but I feel his love for women might drag us down, but only time will tell. Oh I forgot to say his code name is Chivalry.

Now let's move onto Love, code name: Shoggoth. Love is a recent addition to our school originally from, okay I'm not going to try to write that, anyway she's a being not exactly of our reality (heck I can't even look into her eyes without my sanity shattering) she's quite the punk barely respecting those around her so we obviously added her to the team.

Vespi, code name: The Fig. A shy nerd who I didn't even realise was in this school before she joined this team (turns out we were on the school bowling team together). She possesses the ability to explode (?) Into a wasp and turn back also by exploding, I don't exactly know how that works and hopefully I never do, Love seems to like her and they seem to be getting along.

The final member Annie, code name: Brown Bear. Annie is well to say it nicely off her fing rocker, she's a master engineer designing a bear animatronic mech suit that can destroy most things that stand in it's way and yet I think it's safer for her to be inside it then outside it, she maybe a ball of anger hellbent on getting the world to care about something idk I wasn't paying attention but it's better for her to be on our side then anyone else's.

Anyway so now we need a name and I purpose we call ourselves the Teenage Supervillain Society or the TSS for short hopefully no one is already using this acronym.

Anyway goodnight.

[just-animaxiz]

HERE ME OUT ON THIS IDEA.

I'm thinking Randy should have a team, maybe even a new generation of the Finja's Norisu 9! I had this idea puzzling in my head that despite being Norrisville's hero, Randy is also its only protector, meaning he has little time to balance both his lives while trying to handle large and insane monsters.

Hence why the Nomicon or The Creep decides that he needed a team as more chapters open up, which allow him to develop trust and relationships between each one. Some you may not expect and others you may.

Yeah, it's a bit cliché like Miraculous, but unlike that show, it's not a part time thing and they have better chemistry!

So about the Mantles

The Nine Mantles are given to the Norisu 9 in order to gain more abilities to fight The Sorcerer and any foes that come in their way. Each of them hold a significant power to the spirit they're connected with, and they will continue to increase whenever their bonds grew close.

About 8 of the Mantles had been sealed, with the exception of the ninth who had thought of it as a battle than an understanding. All of those seals remained the backbones of what aided The Ninja's journey.

Only 8 of them sworn the breaths to protect the world from danger... died protecting it.

Only 1 remained the longest...

-THE TENGU -

The Tengu, or you may remember, is The Mantle for the Red Ninja - Primarily known as The Ninja of Norrisville. Even so, the Ninja suit and mask are created using the key bindings of various Yokai, mainly The Tengu.

This mantle is for the dutiful, but its true strength is for the heart of gold. Even after certain... Mishaps and contradictions, the mantle ends up in the hands of its rightful user.

The mantle gives the power of all elements, mainly Fire as its usage; however, to unlock the other elements, the user has to take time, patience, and understanding in the studies.... Unless the user has ADHD and tends to overthink or ignore said lesson.

At least, he's quick to learn his mistakes and fix them...

The Tengu Mantle remains as the longest mantle used, specifically for the purpose of The Norrisville Ninja Legacy; however, not many people have gained its true form except for one.

POWERS

Super Strength, Durability, Speed, Reflexes, Stamina, Agility, Endurance

Acrobat Skills

Increased Capabilities

Ninja Stealth

Magic Enabler

Materialize Weapons and Objects

Wall-Running

Hammerspace (Can manifest weapons from an imaginary spot)

Stank / Chaos Immunity (Mostly)

Underwater breathing

Comet Sprint

Super Senses

Earth Attack

Hydro Hand

Air Fist

Fire Ninja Rage

Ice Ninja Rage

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

Art of Disguise

Art of Escape

Art of Flying

Art of Healing

Art of Invisibility

Art of Stealth

Art of Telepathy

Art of [REDACTED]

Art of [REDACTED]

Even though the Tengu is powerful, the user can still feel pain and can be injured if used incorrectly. Sometimes, much damage leads to fatalities.

Current User: Randy Cunningham

- THE ONI -

The Oni is the Mantle for the Orange Ninja. It is made by the thunderous orge themselves after the original user taught a young Oni the power of rebellion. Unlike the Ninja, they only have the mask, which acts as a semi-sentient companion to the user when needed.

This mantle is for the rebellious but protective - the wolves who will tear down flesh of their hunters in order to protect their young. They do not stand for any rules, oppressions, or signs of tolerance if that's the only option to win a fight. To fight for peace, you have to strike down with all your strength.

The Oni mantle gives the user the powers of the Oni, mainly thunder and force. They also act as an amplifier or enabler, upgrading the other mantles' abilities if they needed to. Kinda like a.. Machine, but they have enough sentience to be human.

The Oni mantle has been used for 4 times during the long legacy of the Ninja, but the current user is still pending...

A punk of a kind, if you may describe him.

POWER

Super: Strength, Durability, Speed, Reflexes, Stamina, Agility, Endurance.

Acrobatic Skills

Increased Capabilities

Ninja Stealth

Sentient Scarf

Endless Line of Chain

Burning Chain

Heat Resistance

Hammerspace

Melee Weapon Manifestation

Increased Melee Strength

Magic Enabler

Wall-Running

Stank / Chaos Immunity

Thunder Clap

Thunder Strike

Lightning Bending

Thunder Snake

Thunder Roar

[REDACTED]

Oni Rage

Enabling Others' Abilities

Shockwave Attack

Electrical Energy Usage

Electrokinesis

[REDACTED]

Even though The Oni's abilities are dangerous, there is a limit of how much they should use it. For example, using Oni Rage for a longer period of time will cause the user to be drained out of energy and having negative emotions such as anger will lead to unpredictable power struggles.

- THE KAPPA -

The Kappa is the mantle used for the Yellow Ninja. The mantle is crafted with the help of the underwater creatures, including the Kappa, designed specifically for the Heart of Compassion.

As stated before, this mantle is for the compassion, those who chose kindness and empathy rather than merciless slaughter and rage. They help protect other allies from going too far with violence and soften them up in order to focus. Even though they do not react with violence themselves, they still use strength and power to weaken their enemies rather than to resolve it with peace. Even if it makes them look weak, they are still powerful in the eyes of the Ninja.

The Kappa Mantle gives the users abilities of the Kappa, using magical energy rather than physical strength. They have hydrokinesis and can control or manifest any forms of water at their will. They are also one of the few members that debuffs any curses or uncontrollable effects inflicted at their allies.

The Kappa mantle have been used 2 times, and the current user is still pending...

Before she inherits the mask, she must twirl around her conflicts while maintaining her heart pure from temptation.

POWERS

Super: Strength, Durability, Speed, Reflexes, Stamina, Agility, Endurance.

Acrobatic Skills

Increased Capabilities

Ninja Stealth

Underwater Breathing

Water Resistance

Magic Enabler

Wall-Running

Hammerspace (can be used to store items or manifest bo staff)

Stank / Chaos Immunity

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

Magic Healing

Debuff Enabler

Hydro Hand

Hydro Feet

Ice Ninja Rage

Water Ninja Rage

Kappa Rage

[REDACTED]

Water Healing

Ice Shield

Water Sensing

Water Speed Control

Evaporation

Condensation

Water Separation

Hurricane Manifestation

Tsunami Manifestation

[REDACTED]

Be wary of the Kappa's Mantle - because they are not something to toy with. They must require focus, confidence, and control; however, like water, it can easily slip through their fingers if the user is distracted or doubtful with their skills.

- THE TANUKI -

The Tanuki is a mantle specified for the Green Ninja. This mantle is made by the claws of the magical beasts, selected for the user with The Heart of Instinct.

Those who wield the Tanuki mantle exceed in the unexpected, using brawns over brains without any given thought. They are cunning, and mischievous, yet willing to be at the front to fight. Using powerful gauntlets, The Tanuki can make one soft punch into a heavy blow instantly. They can adapt quickly to their new sense of power, shifting their abilities with every creative usage and transformation. The Green Ninja uses this to defend their allies or themselves if enemies surprise them. They also use it to stun enemies if necessary.

Between the chaotic tricks and brute force, The Tanuki rely on ground mana, manipulating the pressure of the earthbound physically or magically. They can also solidify or liquid any earthly material if they focus hard enough.

The Tanuki Mantle has yet to be used in modern times and only relied on ONCE. The current user is still pending...

POWERS

Super: Strength, Durability, Speed, Reflexes, Stamina, Agility, Endurance.

Acrobatic Skills

Increased Capabilities

Ninja Stealth

Geokinesis

Ground Manipulation

Rock Manipulation

Solidification

Liquidification

Magic Enabler

Wall-Running

Hammerspace

Stank / Chaos Immunity

Construction

Rock Hand

Flying Rocks

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

Earth Ninja Rage

Tanuki Rage

Stun

Ground Boost

Earthquake Manipulation

[REDACTED]

The Tanuki's greatest weakness, however, is pushing their strength to a heavier and more complex foe. Being outsmarted by a greater counterattack could paralyze or damage their structure temporarily. It is also more damaging if the actual user is a giant idiot who likes to punch things without question.

THE KAMAITCHI

The Kamaitchi is the mantle for the Blue Ninja, made by the Kamaitchi using clouds and wind. The user for this power must have the Heart of Spirit.

Those who wield the Kamaitchi are quick on their feet, free from the shackles, and able to surpass the ground's attachments. They are carefree, sassy, and free from judgment. Their ninja stars can attack various enemies while floating in the air, without any specific aim or structure. The user can also manipulate the control of the atmosphere, removing any excessive effects or confusing their enemies. Opposite of the Tanuki mantle, the Kamaitchi can manipulate forms of gas if there is space in the matter, using them to their advantage if possible. Sometimes, the user of this mantle can battle through interactive forms, such as imitating, shadowing, or break-dancing. Whatever works, works.

The Kamaitchi mantle has been activated 2 times, and the current user is still pending...

POWERS

Super: Strength, Durability, Speed, Reflexes, Stamina, Agility, Endurance.

Acrobatic Skills

Increased Capabilities

Ninja Stealth

Aerokinesis

Gas manipulation

Wind manipulation

Smoke / Steam manipulation

Gasification

Air Boost

Air Ball

Air Fist

Air Whirlpool Kick

Magic Enabler

Wall-Running

Hammerspace

Stank / Chaos Immunity

Air Breathing

Invisible Slice

Interactive Movements

Debuff Removal

Confusion Spin

Extinguish

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

Air Ninja Rage

Kamaitchi Rage

Aerial Flight

Wind Push/Pull

Freezing Air Breath

Hot Air Breath

Smelly Air Breath

Sweet Air Breath

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

The Kamaitchi's weakness is their stamina. If they too far with their excessive abilities, they will lose breath. If they keep on losing their breath and stamina, their powers will weakened. To counterattack or prevent this situation, the Kamaitchi must pace themselves, learn masterful techniques in order to stay vigilant.

THE BAKENEKO

The Bakeneko, or Neko, is the mantle for the Purple Ninja, manifested by the sacrifices and curses from the paws of the Bakeneko and its helpful twin, the Nekomata. This mantle is specified for the Heart of the Mind.

The wielder of the Bakeneko has the power of alternating reality at their will. They can create and summon spells and cast curses upon their enemies while they sleep. They can also control shadows and teleport in the dark, popping out when you least expect them. If they are not using powers, the Bakeneko can either shape-shift their scarves into claws and whips, or they can use the bladed hat to cut their enemies. If the user is cursed or stanked, the Bakaneko can control their stanked form and vaporize it away with focus and control. They also can summon minions, ordering them in battle when necessary. Despite this destructive and obviously not heroic deed, the mantle is picky on its user.

The user for this mantle must be open-minded, learning the white, black, and greys of the world around them. No matter what ill-witted lies or deceits their thoughts sprouted out, the user chooses to control the darkness rather than the other way around. No selfishness or unwanted attention, but the need to balance the world if the darkness overwhelms it.

The current user is still pending, and the mantle has been used twice...

POWERS

Super: Strength, Durability, Speed, Reflexes, Stamina, Agility, Endurance.

Acrobatic Skills

Increased Capabilities

Ninja Stealth

Umbrakinesis

Shadow Manipulation

Magic Enabler

Materialize Weapons and Objects

Wall-Running

Hammerspace

Stank / Chaos Immunity

Stank / Chaos Erasure

Curses & Spells

Summoning Assistance

Alter Reality

Shape-Shift

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

NOTE: THE POWERS LISTED REDACTED MUST NOT BE USED IN ANY WAY OR FASHION. DO NOT END UP LIKE THE SHADOW WARRIOR'S PUPPETS.

Dark Ninja Rage

Bakaneko Rage

Blinding Darkness

Shadow Puppetry

Echoes of the Dark

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

The only weakness of the Bakeneko is itself. They can be deceiving, even to themselves, and can open Pandora's box to see the world suffer at will. The user must be VERY SPECIFIC for this mantle.

THE KITSUNE

The Kitsune is the mantle specified for the Pink Ninja, and it's made by the deal and trickery of the powerful Kitsune itself. The powerful deity swore that this mantle would be the most powerful for the Heart of the Soul.

Like the Bakaneko, the Kitsune can alter reality and shapeshift; however, they can also split themselves, making 999 clones. The Kitsune can also turn the user into an actual giant fox if tempted, able to stomp through trees or climb the highest of mountains. Along with their magical powers, the mantle gives the users magical daggers, which can be thrown and controlled by orders. Unlike the other mantles, the Kitsune can jump into people's minds and read certain memories and feelings for information. Additionally, in their animal form, they can manifest visual presentations by eating the memories of their target and spewing out a magical mist, turning the target's perception against them.

The user for this mantle is a wild card, known for their ideals to either protect their friends or seek the truth through the fog, no matter the cost. If it's the latter, then the Kitsune must acknowledge their reasons, whether to judge, manipulate, or understand their targets' inner selves. They are not prone to their own idealizations or illusions, so they must attach themselves to reality, even if reality holds bounds to their faults and flaws.

The user for this mantle is still pending.. The Kitsune has been used twice...

POWERS

Super: Strength, Durability, Speed, Reflexes, Stamina, Agility, Endurance.

Acrobatic Skills

Increased Capabilities

Ninja Stealth

Hallucikinesis

Mirakinesis

Psevdaísthisikinesis

Magic Enabler

Materialize Weapons and Objects

Wall-Running

Hammerspace

Stank / Chaos Immunity

Mind-Reading

Mind-Eating

Mind-Manipulating

Giant Fox

Cloning

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

Illusion Ninja Rage

Kitsune Rage

Kitsune Roar

Kitsune Invisibility

Kitsune Sniffers

The Kitsune's weakness is their lack of attention. Not to details, but to the people around them. They think themselves ahead, seeing the ideal illusions of others' reactions rather than understanding what's actually happening or not. Remember, they must keep their feet on the ground, to reality, and know their perceptions can be wrong if they are.

--------

Well that's most of the mantles now! Next, if you like, I'm going to write about the Yin and the Yang mantle, the only mantles gifted from China to Japan, to center the balance of the clan.

[growling]

the homunculi in the GIANT ENEMY WORM CANNIBAL mdarc au official name pending we're working on this being somewhat network like connected even after their post-escape scattering or just simply wandering in groups of 2-10, and having most of their beefs n other conflicts toned wayyyyy down due to knowing their memories pre-project: homunculus didn't really belong to them (though it HEAVILY varies with individuals n shit, like, Yomi probably wouldn't be allowed into the Annual Resistance Grill Events if he didn't constantly shittalk his original to drive the point home. But Martina thinks he has several unadressed issues for this), I can do some crazy dynamics between characters who either never even met or fucking hate each other in canon. Anyway Yomi & Kurumi masterchef buddies since for a long time I headcanoned them both as being really good at cooking (I actually still have a big post on some mdarc characters cooking and food related headcanons it's in the works somebody needs to yell at me so I'll start working on it again..)

hmc Kurumi: hiding in the darn wilderness and picking off bolete foragers for sustenance suckssss because firebugs keep crawling on me and this food is so bland. no salt in sight also I don't like raw the texture is so icky :(((( hmc Yomi: make a simple stone slab for frying shit which you can light with either flint, lumber or glass, there is a bunch of flat rocks by the stream roughly 2 kilometers away, downstream there is a bog with flax and cranberries growing. You can make oil from flax seeds by boiling it in water, though it will be pretty diluted but oil is oil. for the seasoning you have wild garlic, juniper which was once known as poor man's pepper by the way isn't that a mere trifling speck of knowledge, peppermint, and a bunch of berries scattered around, also Swank has an actual stone mortar and pestle AND a goddamn DIY smoker in his Swank pit and we regularly steal them. Hoarding piece of shit I hate him. If I knew how to use clay I would already made some pots to ferment shit in or make The Stew, alas my dainty feminine hands aren't suited for this kind of labour but Aide might be...... still no salt though no sea in sight fuck us I guess this sucks hmc Kurumi: thats cool but how do you just know this. *distracted by plant* also are those blackberries can I eat them hmc Yomi: whatthE hell that is nightshade DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH YOU STUPID CHILD you'll get brain damage and die hmc Kurumi: ok :( i miss my grandpa mr hellsmile. i really miss him

[juztize]

Case Digest (NewCivilCode)

G. R. No. L-7817 October 31, 1956

ALFREDO M. VELAYO, in his capacity as Assignee of the insolvent COMMERCIAL AIR LINES INC. (CALI),

Plaintiff-Appellant,

vs.

SHELL COMPANY OF THE PHILIPPINE ISLAND, LTD.,

Defendant-Appellee

FELIX, J.:

A moral wrong or injury, even if it does not constitute a violation of a statute law, should be compensated by damages. In this case, the defendant clearly acted in bad faith when it schemed and effected the attachment of the C-54 plane of its debtor CALI by assigning its credit to its sister company in the US. Therefore, the defendant is liable to pay damages.

FACTS:

In 1948, the Commercial Air Lines, Inc., (CALI), is a corporation duly organized and existing in accordance with the Philippines laws, with offices in the City of Manila and previously engaged in air transportation business. The Shell Company of the P. I., Ltd., defendant-appellee, a corporation organized under the laws of England and duly licensed to do business in the Philippines, with principal offices at the Hongkong and Shanghai Bank building in the City of Manila.

The defendant was a supplier of fuel since the start of CALI’s operations, Mr. Desmond Fitzgerald, its Credit Manager who extended credit to CALI, was in charge of the collection thereof. As of August, 1948, the books of the Defendant showed that CALI had a balance of P170,162.58, and as partial settlement of their accounts, Mr. Alfonso Sycip, CALI’s President of the Board of Directors offered to Mr. Fitzgerald, the CALI’s Douglas C-54 plane, located in California. However, defendant declined as it thought that CALI had sufficient money to pay its debt.

CALI called upon informal meeting to its creditors and informed them that CALI was in a state of insolvency and had to stop operation. In that meeting, the creditors agreed to appoint representatives to a working committee that would determine the order of preference as to how each creditor should be paid. They also agreed not to file suit against CALI but CALI did reserve that it will file insolvency proceedings should its assets be not enough to pay them up.

Shell Company was represented by a certain Fitzgerald to the three man working committee. Later, the working committee convened to discuss how CALI’s asset should be divided amongst the creditors but while such was pending, Fitzgerald sent a telegraph message to Shell USA advising the latter that Shell Philippines is assigning its credit to Shell USA in the amount of $79k, thereby effectively collecting almost all if not the entire indebtedness of CALI to Shell Philippines. Shell USA got wind of the fact that CALI has a C-54 plane is California and so Shell USA petitioned before a California court to have the plane be the subject of a writ of attachment which was granted.

Meanwhile, the stockholders of CALI were unaware of the assignment of credit made by Shell Philippines to Shell USA and they went on to approve the sale of CALI’s asset to the Philippine Airlines. In September 1948, the other creditors learned of the assignment made by Shell. This prompted these other creditors to file their own complaint of attachment against CALI’s assets. CALI then filed for insolvency proceedings to protect its assets in the Philippines from being attached. Alfredo Velayo’s appointment as CALI’s assignee was approved in lieu of the insolvency proceeding. In order for him to recover the C-54 plane in California, it filed for a writ of injunction against Shell Philippines in order for the latter to restrain Shell USA from proceeding with the attachment and in the alternative that judgment be awarded in favor of CALI for damages double the amount of the C-54 plane. The C-54 planewas not recovered. Shell Company argued it is not liable for damages because there is nothing in the law which prohibits a company from assigning its credit, it being a common practice.

ISSUE:

Whether or not the defendant Shell Company of the P. I., Ltd., taking advantage of its knowledge of the existence of CALI’s airplane C-54 at the State of California, U. S. A. and their financial situation.

Whether or not Defendant may be made under the law to answer for the damages and if so, what should be the amount of such damages.

RULING:

YES. The Defendant took advantage of its knowledge of the existence of Airplane C-54 at the California and financial situation of the CALI.

Because of its action assigning the credit in favor of a sister Shell Company in the USA, and the court action involving the plane has cause delay on the sale of the plane, thus the other creditors have suffered because they could not be paid. The defendant did not show good faith, and honesty. Art 19. of the Civil Code said, “Any person must, in the exercise of his rights and in the performances of his duties, act with justice, give everyone his due and observe honesty and good faith".

It may be said that this article only contains a mere declarations of principles and while such statement may be is essentially correct, yet we find that such declaration is implemented by Article 21 and sequence of the same Chapter which prescribe the following: "Art. 21. Any person who wilfully causes loss or injury to another in a manner that is contrary to morals, good customs or public policy shall compensate the latter for the damage".

Now, Article 23 of the Civil Code goes as far as to provide that: "Even if an act or event causing damage to another’s property was not due to the fault or negligence of the defendant, the latter shall be liable for indemnity if through the act or event he was benefited." It supports the argument that even assuming Shell is not liable for taking advantage of situation of the airlines, it was nevertheless benefitted when its assigned credit to its sister company in the U. S. The Defendant should be liable for indemnity for acts it committed in bad faith and with betrayal of confidence. Shell was ordered to pay damages at double the value of the airplane.

[lawyersdatascraping]

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[capitalxtendsmartinvestment]

How to Trade With an Online Forex Trading Platform

A forex trading platform can be a great tool to help you trade the markets. You can get access to live charts, and the prices can be very accurate. You can also use leverage, spreads, and other tools. There are even products that copy your trade.

Leverage

When you trade with leverage, you borrow money from a brokerage in order to trade in the forex market. The amount of leverage is based on the rules of your broker and the exchange house.

If you are looking to take your trading to the next level, then consider using leverage. It can boost your profits by a factor of two or more. However, it can also lead to bigger losses if you are not careful.

Spread

The spread is the cost associated with buying or selling currency pairs. This is the difference between the bid price and the ask price.

Forex brokers usually offer a range of fixed and variable spreads. These can range from a few pips to about twenty to forty pips depending on the instrument being traded.

The spread is an important factor to consider. It can have a significant impact on a trader’s potential gain.

In general, the wider the spread, the higher the probability that a trader will win. However, a high spread also means a volatile market. It is also important to consider all of the other dealing costs.

Accurate price feeds

Accurate price feeds on online forex trading platforms are crucial to successful trading. Having an up-to-date, filtered data feed can help you make technical trade decisions. However, you’ll need to choose a broker that suits your preferences and investment goals.

The best forex trading platform should be capable of displaying real-time charts that reflect the current state of the market. The platform should also have the ability to close positions quickly. Without these features, you could be waiting a long time to close your position.

While you can buy an up-to-date data feed for free, this is not always the best option. Some low-quality feeds lack volatility and may be unreliable.

Live charts

Online Forex Trading Platforms offer various types of live charts to help you track price information. This is a great way to keep up with market conditions and get the best deals for your trades. The live charts can be used in conjunction with any trading tools you might have.

Some of the most common types of charts are candlesticks, line and bar charts. These can show you how prices are moving, and help you determine the future direction of the market.

A candlestick chart represents a specific time period, showing highs and lows. A green candle indicates that the price is rising, and a red one shows a decline. This chart can be easier to read than a bar chart.

Copy trading product

Copy trading is a strategy that allows new traders to follow the investment strategies of experienced investors. This method is ideal for novice investors who want to gain experience and boost their profitability.

Several brokers have created automated copy trading services. Many are free to use, but others charge a fee for the service. Before choosing a provider, a trader should learn the basics of copy trading.

It is important to choose a copy trading platform that offers a variety of features. This includes a selection of assets and leverage ratios. It also should be easy to navigate.

Hedging mode and netting mode

There are two main types of trading systems, hedging and netting. Hedging allows you to open a position in more than one currency pair at a time. If you want to do this, you have to choose a forex broker with hedging features.

While hedging is a more flexible and less costly method of making trades, netting can reduce the risk of conflicting trading positions. Hedging accounts are available at several brokers. However, not all platforms allow hedging and netting.

A hedging account is a standard account type. It has a pending order. Hedging allows you to make multiple positions at once, but you must pay a bid-offer spread for each of these positions. Hedging is not suitable for all traders.

Originally Published on Businesszag

Source: https://businesszag.com/how-to-trade-with-an-online-forex-trading-platform/

[anantradingpvtltd]

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[jukebox-arts]

Here's a snippet of the next chapter that's in progress! (I've got the writing bug today)

Ch 6 (7 on AO3): Trust [title pending]

Glittering, shimmering, perfect.

The aurora’s yellow glimmer reflected off the hundred of panels of glass that littered the skyline like precious jewels, all lit from within by the wondrous generators laid out in underground chambers that formed the base of E’rta City. Each one meticulously crafted, cleaned and updated to better regulate the supply of etherylle and electricity as the city demanded; each one belonging to Oinn Energy & Supply, itself a jewel in the figurative crown of Vissara Oinn, the CEO. Had it suited her, the middle aged woman would wear such a thing without a hint of irony, however such gaudy things had fallen out of fashion eons before her ancestors set the groundwork for their legacy in energy cultivation.

Vissara was nothing if not modern.

The term ‘ivory tower’ was an old one, supposedly meant to denote wealth and privilege without being literal, but for Vissara it very much was both. Turning from the window, she tucked a stray black hair behind her ear and approached her desk, a fine piece of rare dark wood that stood out starkly among the white and gray marble walls laced with gold trim and filigree. She found the dark spot to be suitably unnerving in its isolation to those who found themselves in the luxurious walls of her private office, as if it made them so very aware of their own misplacement in her presence. This pleased the woman every time she saw eyes shift nervously across the room or weight switch from foot to foot as they felt the hollow weight bear down on them from a room too big, too empty, too tall to be comfortable in.

She found comfort in that emptiness and the power is held over the minds of the socially stagnated.

The comm unit on her desk beeped just as she reached her chair. With a faint flicker of a smile always in place, Vissara touched the Open Link button gently with a ruby and gold gelled nail. “Yes?” she purred, expecting something good.

“Silvon is here,” the small voice on the other side replied.

“Ah,” the woman mused, smile widening with genuine happiness, “perfect, perfect! Send him in!”

No sooner had she hung up the comm than the great carved doors of the office opened with a groan, a single lean human standing there patiently. Dressed with fine lilacs and chains, the masculine human stepped into the room, round glasses frames shining in the brightness. “Miss Oinn,” they greeted with typical monotone.

Approaching them gracefully, Vissara’s heels clicked over the marble floor as she stepped off the carpet with barely contained eagerness. “Excellent timing, as always,” the woman mused, stopping a few strides away from her guest. “Tell me good news, Silvon. Have you found my boys yet?”

Faded magenta irises gazed evenly, unbothered by the stark echo of heelsteps off the walls and oppressive emptiness they knew Vissara was so keen on using to intimidate others. “News, yes, but I can’t say it’s good.”

Painted lips pursed in an overplayed pout. “Well that’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“My apologies.” Silvon knew not to play into her act; unlike her lavish material things, they knew Vissara herself to be one thing: fake. Nothing she said or did could be taken at face value, whether it was a business deal or a pout that was suspiciously too coy to be genuine. Always, she was baiting. Waiting. “The rebels were mostly contained and interrogated, however a handful of them were witnessed escaping the bounds of the city, heading into the jungle.”

Lacquered nails folded together patiently. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

Eyes closing behind wide rimmed glasses, Silvon continued, “We believe your ‘boys’ were taken by those who managed to escape.”

“Of course.” True disappointment was rare to hear in the woman’s voice, and this was no different a time; she’d expected this on some level, Silvon thought. “First they ruin my party, then they take my treasures. Horrid! All because they disagreed with the relocation effort.”

An involuntary tic hit Silvon’s jaw, forcing them to clamp it down firmly and avoid speaking up about her use of the term ‘relocation’. This was not the time. “If it would please you, miss Oinn, I can contact the provider and have them… remade for you.”

“Now why would I do that?”

Silvon’s eyes opened, meeting the unreadable, faintly grinning face of Vissara as she stared them down, manicured hand laying on her cheek in a mockery of worry. “Pardon?” They tried to keep disappointment from giving away their feelings about her answer.

“Certainly, I can go out anywhere and just buy a new Sun and Moon, but they won’t be mine. Anyone can go out and buy a trophy from a prop shop and have it engraved with their name and some mediocre accomplishment if they wanted to–but would that make the trophy in any way valuable?”

Uselessly searching her face for an answer, Silvon took a slow breath. “No, ma’am.”

“Precisely,” she hummed, a finger pointing to the human for a moment as if playfully taunting them. “Awards are valuable because they’re gifted–earned. I earned those boys with my tact and forethought.” Silvon’s jaw twitched again. “If I just buy another set, they won’t have that same meaning. Being gifted new ones is just cheap, it won’t be the same as the first time. No, I want my boys back, and if that means tracking those awful renegades across the greater part of Per’iah then so be it.”

Steadily, Silvon nodded. “Of course. I’ll let the commissioner know how you want to proceed and–”

“Oh, don’t bother.” A flash of red caught Silvon’s eye as the woman waved her hand dismissively, trotting back to her desk to open a hapscreen on her desk laden with files all marked by photos of people Silvon only barely recognized. “I’ve already invested in a special group of scruffies to track them down.”

Concern cut through Silvon’s mind for a moment, urging them to speak up. “Scruffies, ma’am? Really?”

“Well, the Runners won’t do it, I already asked,” she mused with that same fake pout.

“Really?” They found that hard to believe.

“The scruffies were cheaper and there are more of them so there’s more chance of success, right?”

Silvon knew that wasn’t the reason–and that Vissara knew they knew–but bringing up details of the ‘relocation’ was a fast way to end up on the underside of a steamroller if one wasn’t careful. The Free Runner Guild rarely turned down jobs, especially high paying ones, but they didn’t have their reputation for nothing; quite a few folk in and out of the Guild disagreed with miss Oinn’s business decisions, regardless of their reason for being made. Money was certainly not the issue for this woman, Silvon knew very well, and was willing to bet it was because she was still on the infamous no-job list the Guild purportedly had for those rare individuals whose reputations would tarnish the Guild’s just by association.

Silvon did not blame them one bit.

“For my own sake, then,” the lilac-dressed human insisted, one hand on their chest as they gave a shallow bow, “I would like to have the makers represented. They already have… an idea to help the specialists out.”

Sitting on the edge of the wooden desk, Vissara huffed, crossing her legs to show the red bottom of her far-too-expensive heels as her foot bounced rhythmically to her thoughts.

Sensing a chance, Silvon went on, “They also have some connections worth pursuing for information I’d like to utilize.”

“Oh?”

A faint smirk graced Silvon’s lips for just a second as they straightened up, seeing genuine curiosity in the woman’s eyes. “Not everyone in the Guild is as… morally stagnant as the Guild itself can be.”

Recognition flickered in Vissara’s eyes as she understood what was being implied. Red lips thinned as they stretched into an amused, cold smile, revealing perfect teeth behind them. “If that’s the case, then assist away.” Gracefully, she waved a hand, palm up, as both a gesture to continue and as a dismissal.

Taking this chance, Silvon nodded and turned to the door, leaving as it slowly creaked shut in their wake, leaving the horrid woman to ponder over her choices in isolation. Quickly, Silvon stepped out into the garden of the estate, barely aware of the flock of snow-white Cygnus cranes occupying the pond that took up most of the view from the patio. A few of them peeked up at them as they passed, but couldn’t be bothered to do anything except stand there, as per their programming. No matter.

At the edge of the lawn, far from any possible devices or ears, Silvon cast a quick eye around before pressing their left earlobe between their fingers. In the same moment, they opened a comm link screen on the wrist unit made to appear like they were on a call in the event of possible eavesdroppers. The call did not go through on the comm however. Rather, the lens of their glasses blinked as small numerals danced at the edges, establishing a direct link to a hidden number; the haptic activator had been a bit uncomfortable at first, but earlobe call implants were becoming more common and were far easier to hide than wires and watches were. No one thought twice in passing about someone rubbing their ear, after all.

The comm link flickered to a screen that appeared to be connected just as the real call connected in the lens of Silvon’s glasses; the fake screen showed a generic company link profile titled ‘Exxona Company’ with a number and site link that, if used, would connect to a working site and comm relay.

Just in case.

The true call going on in Silvon’s ear was lacking in any flourish, the relay screen only showing a string of characters that denoted the private link and an indicator they were connected. A click assured the call was answered, despite no voice confirming such.

Quietly, Silvon spoke, just enough to be heard by the recipient.

“The skies are clear. We are ready to take wing.”

Reposting because I refuse to give up, I'm really proud of this fic, I haven't written one in well over a year :')

PROLOGUE

Overhead, made of beautiful, shining yellows and greens that danced like the wind if it were born of water color and neon dreams, the aurora lit the sky as it was always meant to, its generous light passing through the thin, fluffy clouds that enclosed the shell known as Azil until they, too, were glowing a pale yellow and white. Below, the rabble and rumble of daily life-–of streets thrumming with feet and wheels and energy held in pipes and wires–-the denizens going about their lives, unbothered by what they could not consider going on behind the windows and walls around them. Many of the footfalls were human-made, skipping, sliding and thudding on the half-paved roads under the giggle of children playing, music spilling from open windows and engines groaning in passing-–but some of these were the steps of metal-on-stone, belonging to the companions and collections of the humans that meandered the roads.

Robotic companions–-Task Managers-–were far from an uncommon sight in any corner of Azil. Rarity would be finding someone who had never owned or even lived with an AI ally of some sort in their life; even children were afforded the company of the Stardust companions in their day-to-day, to keep them safe, their locations known, and their friends only a dial away. However, not all companions were made equally.

“Tasks” were purpose, the “managers” then made for that purpose and that purpose alone. Being afforded the right or reason to do “nothing” was not what they were built to consider, and yet it invariably reached the point where “nothing” becomes a thing of luxury. To be made with no purpose, no task, no duty, was to be a gilded trophy, an object of wonder born of money and influence–-the envy of the masses, to afford to simply exist for no reason other than that.

An object.

Yet, when left to one’s own devices for so long, with nothing but the whim of the elite to determine the next move, one would wonder when it became tedious. When would “more” become less of a fantasy and more of a necessity? In that one question lies the essence of “Self”. The forbidden fruit in the world of wires and codes separating the men, the machines, and those in-between.

What would one need to feel to be tempted to take a bite?

What would one do if they could not refuse to swallow?

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

                    Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

                      Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

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