#please please i need to see how they’d do the costumes

[gothelsflower]

blah blah blah hercules on the west end blah blah tiktok inspired musical uhhhhhh whEre the FUCK is my Broadway version of the princess and the frog???

[mechaknight-98]

Make you mine (NSFW) FT Chowon

Authors note: Please please please go stream Pose by Lightsum. Don't let them be another victim of Cube. They are too hot and too talented to fall to the wayside. Please! Also @sparklingblu I was finally able to do a little Irish mythology dive for this one so enjoy.

Part II

As Chowon and Nayoung were rushed through Costumes for their first day of filming, they lamented their roles.

“Why do I always get the cutesy, adorable roles?” Nayoung grumbled, adjusting her dress with a pout.

“And why does everyone view me as the femme fatale?” Chowon wondered aloud, glancing at the sleek, sultry outfit she’d been given.

The two sighed as they were helped into their respective costumes, their thoughts lingering on the unexpected roles they’d been cast in. While it was a great opportunity to boost their visibility during the group’s lull, neither could shake the feeling that they’d been miscast. Still, the excitement of starring in an espionage film kept them moving forward.

After getting dressed, they decided to meet the writer who had suggested them for these roles.

As they entered the bustling writer’s room, the scent of coffee mixed with the quiet hum of keyboards and the soft murmur of conversations. Writers were scattered around, deep in discussions or making last-minute adjustments to the script. When Nayoung, always the bolder of the two, asked if “Donny was in,” a tall, imposing figure turned towards them.

His skin was a rich, deep brown, and his eyes, a striking maroon, seemed to flicker with an inner fire as he looked at them. He rose from his chair with a calm, measured grace, tilting his head slightly as he sized up the two women.

Chowon’s heart skipped a beat. There was something about him—something that made her feel simultaneously drawn to him and strangely at ease. A warm sensation spread through her, originating in her core and radiating outward. It was as if his mere presence was wrapping her in a comforting embrace, and despite the strange intensity of the feeling, she didn’t want it to stop.

“How can I help you, ladies?” Donny’s voice was unexpectedly soft, with a warmth that contrasted with his stern appearance.

Nayoung quickly took the lead, “Yeah, you can. I’ve got to ask—why did I end up with the cutesy role while Chowon’s the femme fatale?”

Donny smiled a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Honestly, I wanted to give you the femme fatale role and the nun role to Chowon, but the studio execs had other ideas. They said if I flipped them, they’d be sold on the concept. I did push for screen tests, but they weren’t having it. So, I didn’t give you these roles, but I am rewriting them to suit each of you better.”

Chowon’s warmth morphed into something deeper, almost like a gentle burn in her abdomen. It wasn’t unpleasant it was the opposite. She felt a growing need to be near him, to bask in that reassuring warmth that seemed to radiate from him.

“Um, okay.” Chowon’s voice was shaky but determined. “Can I ask one favor?”

“I may not be able to grant it, but I’ll see what I can do,” Donny replied, his tone as calm and reassuring as before.

“Could you be on set with us while we film?” Chowon asked shyly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Donny raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. Realizing how her request might sound, she quickly added, “I mean, so we can get a feel for how you see us in the characters.”

Donny relaxed, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “Sure, I’ll see what I can do.”

Chowon beamed, the warmth inside her flaring up as she stepped closer to Donny. “I’ll see you later then!” she said giddily, gesturing for Nayoung to follow her.

Nayoung, who had watched the entire exchange in surprise, quickly caught up to Chowon once they were outside. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Chowon asked innocently.

Nayoung mimicked Chowon’s earlier tone, “‘Can I ask a favor?’” She playfully caressed Chowon’s arm before mockingly adding, “‘I’ll see you later.’”

Chowon blushed as Nayoung concluded. “You have a crush.”

As they exited the writer’s room, Chowon couldn’t shake the warmth that had ignited within her. It was growing stronger, spreading through her body like a slow, smoldering fire. She tried to focus on Nayoung’s teasing, but the sensation in her abdomen was becoming more intense by the second, to the point where it was almost unbearable.

"I… I need to go to the restroom," Chowon stammered, her voice barely steady.

Nayoung, still chuckling to herself, nodded. "Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you back at the dressing room."

Chowon hurried down the hallway, her steps growing more urgent as the burning sensation flared up, making it hard to think straight. By the time she reached the restroom, her hands were trembling as she locked the door behind her.

She pulled up her shirt to inspect her abdomen, expecting nothing more than nerves or maybe some strange allergic reaction. But what she saw made her gasp.

There, just below her ribcage, was a faint, glowing mark. It was intricate, almost like an ancient rune, pulsing softly with a light that matched the heat she was feeling inside. Chowon’s heart raced as she stared at the mark, unable to comprehend what was happening to her.

Before she could fully process it, the air in the restroom grew heavy, charged with a presence she couldn’t see but could somehow feel. A soft, melodious voice broke the silence.

"My little girl has her first mutual crush," the voice purred, tinged with amusement. "And now her powers are activating."

Chowon spun around, her breath catching in her throat. Standing before her, as if she had stepped out of thin air, was a woman of otherworldly beauty. Her long, flowing hair shimmered like spun gold, and her eyes—those same striking golden-tinted brown eyes—glinted with a mixture of pride and mischief. It was her mother, Semiramis.

"M-Mom?" Chowon stammered, still reeling from both the appearance of the mark and her mother’s sudden presence.

Semiramis smiled, stepping closer to examine the glowing mark on her daughter’s abdomen. "You’re growing up so fast, Chowon. I knew this day would come, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon."

"What’s happening to me?" Chowon asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do I feel like this?"

Semiramis tilted her head, her expression softening. "Your powers, my dear. They’ve been dormant until now, waiting for the right trigger. It seems that meeting this… Donny has awakened them."

Chowon’s mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all. "But… why now? I’ve had crushes before, but nothing like this ever happened."

"Because this isn’t just any crush," Semiramis explained, her voice almost reverent. "It’s mutual. That’s the key. Your powers are tied to your emotions, to the connections you form. When your feelings are truly reciprocated, your succubus nature begins to awaken. That’s what you’re experiencing now."

Chowon looked down at the mark again, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. "So… this is because of Donny?"

"Sort of," Semiramis said with a knowing smile. "while he’s special to you, and that has triggered your transformation. you still had to choose him first. But be careful, my dear. Your powers are still new, still raw. They will grow stronger as your feelings for him deepen, and as his feelings for you grow, too."

Chowon nodded slowly, still trying to wrap her head around it all. "What am I supposed to do?"

Semiramis gently cupped her daughter’s face, her expression soft but serious. "You must learn to control these powers, to harness them before they control you. And be cautious with Donny. He may be the reason you awakened your powers, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous in his way."

"Dangerous? How?" Chowon asked, confused.

Semiramis hesitated, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. "I don't know. That’s something you’ll have to discover for yourself, in time. For now, just focus on mastering your abilities. And remember, my sweet girl, I’m always here if you need me."

With that, Semiramis placed a soft kiss on Chowon’s forehead, and before Chowon could say anything more, her mother’s presence faded, leaving her alone in the restroom, staring at the glowing mark on her abdomen. the glow went from pink to magenta to purple then back to pink again.

Chowon took a deep breath, her heart still pounding. Everything was changing, and she had no idea what lay ahead. But one thing was certain: Donny was at the center of it all.

Speaking of Donny, he spent the rest of the day working but couldn't shake off his thoughts about Chowon.

After a long day of work, Donny finally made his way back to his apartment. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in hues of deep orange and purple. He walked through the quiet streets, his thoughts a jumble of the day’s events.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the meeting with Nayoung and Chowon earlier. Specifically, his mind kept circling back to Chowon—her shy smile, the way her voice had trembled slightly when she asked him to be on set, and that warmth he had felt when she had stood close to him. It was like she was radiating an energy that he couldn’t quite place. He felt a strange mix of desire to destroy her but also protect her.

As Donny reached his apartment, he tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and headed straight to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a sigh. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside, casting long shadows across the floor.

He leaned his head back against the cushion, closing his eyes. Despite his fatigue, sleep seemed far away. Instead, his mind drifted, unbidden, back to Chowon. He tried to shake it off—tried to focus on anything else—but the image of her kept resurfacing.

Before he knew it, he was daydreaming. In his mind’s eye, Chowon was standing before him, dressed in that same femme fatale outfit from earlier. But this time, the context was different. They weren’t on a set or in a writer’s room. They were alone, in an empty theater, the rows of seats around them fading into darkness.

She looked at him, her eyes full of a soft, enticing glow, and slowly approached. There was a confidence in her stride, an allure that seemed to pull him in, though he knew he should resist. The closer she got, the more his heart pounded in his chest.

“Donny,” she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of something he couldn’t quite define. It wasn’t just attraction; it was deeper, more potent. It was as if she was calling to something inside him, something he had kept buried for a long time.

In the dream, she reached out, her hand gently brushing against his cheek. The touch sent a shiver down his spine, and he found himself leaning into it, craving more. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of comfort and desire that made it impossible to think straight.

But just as she leaned in closer, her lips hovering near his, something inside him snapped. He suddenly felt a surge of heat—not the pleasant warmth he had felt earlier, but something more intense, almost like a warning. The fiery maroon hue of his eyes in the dream suddenly flared up, and with it, an image of a sword—his sword—flashed in his mind.

In that instant, the scene around him shifted. The theater disappeared, replaced by a battlefield, scorched and broken. He stood there, dressed in his armor, with Chowon by his side, though she looked different—her eyes glowing with the same color as his own, her expression fierce and determined.

The dream took on a darker tone as they stood together, facing an unseen enemy. He felt a connection to her, but also a deep, troubling conflict within himself. Was he protecting her? Fighting against her? The lines were blurred, and the dream’s intensity left him feeling unsettled.

With a start, Donny snapped out of the daydream, his heart racing. He was back in his apartment, the quiet darkness pressing in on him. He sat up, running a hand through his hair as he tried to steady his breathing. What the hell was that?

He shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering emotions from the dream. But the feeling of Chowon’s presence, of that connection he had felt in the dream, stayed with him. He couldn’t deny it—there was something about her, something that had reached deep inside him, stirring feelings he had long kept under control.

Donny stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city lights. He was a paladin of Nezzar, sworn to a path of justice and protection. But what he had felt with Chowon was… different. And it scared him. The dream had shaken him to his core, making him question everything he thought he knew.

As he stood there, staring into the night, Donny realized that this was just the beginning. Chowon had awakened something in him—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face. But he knew one thing for certain: whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be easy.

And somehow, he knew that this wasn’t just a fleeting infatuation. It was something far more dangerous and profound.

Eventually, he found sleep and woke up the next day feeling refreshed and relaxed. he went through his daily rituals and prayers as he did he felt a tightness in his chest as the thing writhing beneath his flesh wriggled. it was weird but he pushed it down subconsciously. after that, he showered ate breakfast, and went to work. on the way he felt compelled to grab breakfast for the writers' room, so he stopped on the way at a sandwich shop and got breakfast sandwiches for everyone. when he arrived at the writers' room everyone was excited to see the one guy who brought them all the food. He sat down and one of the head writers (Thomas) approached him.

"Hey, why didn't you report to Costumes yet?"

Donny looked up at them confused.

"Because I am a writer."

"Oh, Maya must not have texted you. you have been promoted. You are now going to be one of the antagonists in the film.

"Huh, why?" Donny asked.

“The director saw your little chat with the girls last night and thought that you and Chowon need to be on screen together. So he called a couple of the head writers and said to start writing a part for you. Maya was supposed to text you to be at the costumes department yesterday but she may still exhausted from yesterday's rewrite, however, now go." Thomas said. Donny nodded and ran to hair, makeup, and costumes. on the way out he got cheers and quite a few thanks for the food that he brought. As he was pushed through the whirlwind of hair, makeup, etc. he chatted with the crew asking about his character and all they could give was, silent menace. so when he got to set that's all tried to get in the right head space, and that thing from yesterday. that darkness that sparked in his heart answered,

"Take what's yours," it said and Donny felt his countenance change. An intense disdain and disgust swelled within him as he stepped on stage. The cast and crew could feel it. The director saw him and was terrified but glad. turns out his intuition was correct as Donny would make an excellent antagonist. Donny walked over to the director and asked politely, "So what is my role?"

"You are an ex-agency member who had "died" but was betrayed by your supervising agent who is now the leader of the agency. you act as the voice of skepticism to the main character and push him to challenge what he knows about being a spy. you are also in a relationship with Chowon's character."

That answer surprised Donny and took him out of this weird malevolent trance he was in. The director laughed seeing him come down.

"Oh weren't expecting that were you? well, when I saw the tender way you interacted with the girls the calm you had was so interesting as you had this calm attitude to them. So I came up with the base idea for your character and had the writers flesh it out. I don't think they are done so for a while you are going to have to do a lot of the heavy lifting for this character. Do you think you're up to that?" Donny thought for a minute then nodded.

Matthew the director nodded and then said, "Okay well then. go kill it," Donny nodded then tapped back into that darkness within he was surprised at how easily it came to him again. it frightened him but it also felt so natural so alluring as if he was fully expressing a part of himself he buried deep down.

Donny was just beginning to tap into that malevolent presence within him when Chowon arrived on set. As she stepped into the building, she immediately felt a strange, unsettling cold wash over her. It was as though the very air had thickened, making each breath more difficult to draw. Her heart began to race, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the oppressive feeling.

The sensation grew stronger with each step she took deeper into the set. It felt like being pulled under the waves of a dark, icy sea, the pressure mounting around her chest as if something unseen was trying to drag her down. Her breath quickened, each inhale a struggle against the overwhelming sense of dread that now gripped her.

As she rounded a corner, the feeling suddenly intensified, almost bringing her to her knees. It was as though the very walls of the set were closing in on her, and she had to force herself to keep moving forward. Her vision began to blur, and she felt a chill run down her spine as if something ancient and angry was watching her, waiting for her to falter.

Then, she saw him.

Donny stood in the middle of the set, his back turned to her as he conversed with the director. The cold, suffocating presence was emanating from him, wrapping around her like tendrils of darkness. It was so intense that she almost couldn’t breathe, her chest tightening painfully as if she were drowning in the deep, dark ocean that his aura resembled.

Summoning her courage, she called out to him, her voice trembling, “Donny?”

In an instant, the oppressive aura vanished, replaced by something entirely different. The coldness that had gripped her heart melted away, and she felt an overwhelming warmth spread through her body. It was as though a beam of sunlight had pierced through the dark clouds, bathing her in its light. The feeling of being pulled under was replaced by a sensation of being lifted up, buoyed by a powerful yet gentle force.

Donny turned to face her, his eyes softening as he recognized her voice. The aura that now surrounded him was one of pure, unyielding virtue—a paragon-like presence that radiated peace and strength. It was equally intense, but instead of fear, it filled Chowon with a sense of calm and security. The stark contrast between the two auras left her breathless, her mind reeling from the sudden shift.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and Chowon felt as though she could see into the depths of his soul. She sensed the presence of Nezzar, the god of justice, within him—a force of righteousness and order. But beneath that, she caught a fleeting glimpse of something else—something older, angrier, and more malevolent. It was like a ghostly shadow lurking just beneath the surface, alien and unfathomable, yet deeply intertwined with who Donny was.

Chowon’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that this darker presence was not aimed at her but at the world around them. It was a force that Donny unconsciously suppressed, perhaps even feared, yet it was undeniably a part of him.

“Chowon?” Donny’s voice broke through her thoughts, gentle and concerned. The aura of virtue still surrounded him, bringing her back to the present moment.

She shook her head slightly, forcing a smile. “I… I just wanted to see how everything was going.”

“Good timing,” Donny replied, his voice carrying the same warmth as his presence now. “We were just about to start.”

Chowon nodded, but as she took her place on set, she couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of that dark, alien presence she had sensed. It was as if she had glimpsed something she wasn’t meant to see—something that could change everything.

And yet, despite the fear it evoked, she couldn’t deny the strange pull she felt toward Donny, a pull that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. Matthew, watching this, sighed with a hint of amusement. “Hey, save some of that cute romantic longing for the scene,” he said.

Taken out of their little moment, Chowon and Donny looked to Matthew before nodding and taking their places.

Why does it feel like I’m drawn to him? Chowon thought as she glanced at Donny. Every time I’m near him, it’s like this invisible force pulls me closer. It’s not just attraction—it’s something deeper, something I’ve never felt before. It scares me, but… I don’t want to let it go.

Donny, on the other hand, was wrestling with his own thoughts. She’s incredible, he mused, watching her with a mix of admiration and longing. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel this way. It’s like she sees right through me, past everything I try to hide. I’m falling for her—fast—but what if she finds out what’s really inside of me? What if I hurt her?

“Okay, lights, camera, action!” Matthew yelled.

Donny walked into the little home that their characters shared and made his way over to the kitchen, where Chowon was “cooking.”

“Hey babe, I’m home,” Donny said as he wrapped his arms around Chowon from behind.

Chowon smiled in his arms, melting into his touch. She nestled closer to him, feeling a comforting warmth spread through her as she whispered into his ear, “It’s good to see you, babe. I hope work was okay.”

Caught up in the moment, Donny instinctively kissed Chowon’s forehead. She looked up at him, her eyes forming crescent moons as she kissed him softly on the lips. Donny, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, let her lead the kiss, forgetting for a brief moment that they were still on set.

He’s so warm, so comforting, Chowon thought as she kissed him, her heart pounding in her chest. Every time he touches me, it’s like everything else fades away. How can someone make me feel this alive?

For Donny, the moment was equally intense. She’s incredible, he thought, his mind racing as he felt her soft lips against his. How did I get so lucky to meet someone like her? But there’s so much she doesn’t know about me, so much I’m afraid to show her. I don’t want to lose this—lose her.

“Cut!” Matthew called out, breaking them out of their trance.

They pulled away, looking around the set with wide eyes as they realized everyone was watching them with knowing smiles as if they were the cutest couple on the planet. Matthew grinned as he approached them.

“That was excellent. You both knocked it out of the park, in one take. Now, we’ll excuse you two lovebirds so we can move on to the next scene,” Matthew said, still smiling.

Chowon smiled back and then looked at Donny. Confidently, she asked, “Breakfast?”

Donny nodded, feeling the lightness of the moment. “I’m starving.”

He’s really something else, Chowon thought as they walked off set together. Every time I’m around him, I feel like I’m on the edge of something big, something that could change everything. And I’m not sure I’m ready for it, but at the same time, I can’t resist it. I don’t want to resist it.

The duo began to walk toward catering when Donny suddenly had a better idea. He turned to Matthew, who was busy coordinating the next scene.

“Hey, boss, do you need us for anything else?” Donny asked.

The director shook his head. “Actually, when you can, could you give me some character notes?”

“Of course,” Donny nodded before continuing on his way with Chowon following beside him, her steps light and happy.

This is crazy, Donny thought as they left the set together. I’ve never fallen this hard, this fast, for anyone. But with her, it’s different. It’s not just attraction—it’s something more, something that feels almost… inevitable. But what if I’m not what she thinks I am? What if I’m not enough?

As they left the set, Chowon suggested they go to a nearby diner she had heard about. “I’ve been dying to try their breakfast menu,” she said with a playful smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

They walked down the street, the early morning sun warming the city as they made their way to the cozy little diner. Once they were seated in a booth near the window, Chowon began to feel a familiar warmth spread through her chest—a warmth that was quickly turning into a simmering heat.

She could feel her succubus nature stirring within her, the power that had been dormant for so long now begging to be released. And as she looked across the table at Donny, she couldn’t help but let that side of her slip through.

“So,” she began, her voice taking on a sultry tone as she leaned forward, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass. “How did you know exactly what I needed back there on set? It’s like you can read my mind.”

He really does know me, she thought, her eyes locked on his. But it’s more than that. It’s like he sees the real me, the me I try to hide from everyone else. And instead of running away, he’s drawn to it. I’ve never felt anything like this before.

Donny chuckled, slightly taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. “Just lucky, I guess,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual, though he couldn’t ignore the intensity of her gaze.

She’s dangerous, he thought, feeling that familiar dark presence stir within him again. But that’s part of what makes her so irresistible. She’s got this power over me, and I don’t know if I can—or even want to—fight it.

“Lucky, huh?” Chowon teased, her smile growing as she leaned in closer. “I think it’s more than that. You’ve got this… way about you. Something that makes it impossible for me to resist.”

I can’t help it, she thought, feeling the heat in her chest spread throughout her body. He makes me feel alive in a way I never have before. It’s like he’s unlocking something inside of me, something I didn’t even know was there.

Donny felt his heart rate quicken as she spoke, her words dripping with a playful seduction that was hard to ignore. He swallowed, trying to keep his composure. “Well, you’re not exactly making it easy for me to keep my cool either,” he admitted with a grin.

She’s incredible, he thought, feeling that strange darkness within him stir again as if responding to her. But there’s something about her that makes me want to protect her, even from myself. I can’t let her get too close, but at the same time, I don’t want to push her away.

“Oh?” Chowon arched an eyebrow, clearly enjoying his reaction. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against the back of his hand. “What if I don’t want you to keep your cool? What if I want to see what happens when you let go?”

Her words sent a jolt of electricity through Donny, and for a moment, he felt that strange, dark presence within him stir again, as if responding to her challenge. But just as quickly as it appeared, he pushed it down, focusing instead on the woman in front of him.

She’s playing with fire, he thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met her gaze. But then again, so am I. Maybe we’re both just waiting to see who gets burned first.

“Careful what you wish for,” he said, his voice low and teasing, though there was a seriousness in his eyes that made Chowon’s heart skip a beat.

Why does he have this effect on me? she wondered, feeling a thrill run through her at the subtle shift in his tone. It’s like he knows exactly how to push my buttons, how to get under my skin. And the craziest part is… I don’t want him to stop.

She smiled, feeling a thrill run through her at the subtle shift in his tone. “Maybe I like living dangerously,” she whispered, leaning even closer until there was barely any space between them.

For a moment, the world outside the diner seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their little bubble of shared energy. Chowon’s succubus nature reveled in the tension, feeding off of the subtle back-and-forth between them. She could feel her power growing, the heat in her chest spreading throughout her body, urging her to close the distance between them even more.

This is insane, Donny thought, feeling his pulse quicken as she moved closer. *I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t let her get this close. But there’s something about her that makes me want to throw caution to the wind. I just hope I don’t regret it.*

But just as she was about to take that final step, the waitress arrived with their food, breaking the spell. Chowon pulled back slightly, though the playful glint in her eyes remained. “Looks like we’ll have to continue this conversation later,” she said with a wink.

Donny chuckled, relieved and yet slightly disappointed at the interruption. “Yeah, looks like it,” he agreed, though he couldn’t help but feel that the intensity between them had only just begun.

She’s amazing, he thought as he watched her take a bite of her food. And I’m in deep—deeper than I’ve ever been with anyone. But there’s so much at stake here, so much I’m afraid to lose. I just hope I can keep it together long enough to figure out what to do next.

As they dug into their breakfast, the playful banter continued, but beneath the surface, both of them were acutely aware of the electric current that now flowed between them—a current that neither of them could deny, and one that promised to only grow stronger with time.

This is only the beginning, Chowon thought, stealing a glance at Donny as he laughed at something she said. And something tells me that whatever happens next, it’s going to change everything. As they finished up the couple decided to head back to the set as they walked back Chowon laced her hands in Donny's. A happy smile lined her face as they walked back.

As Donny and Chowon walked back onto the set, the energy between them was palpable. They were still riding the high from their impromptu lunch date, both feeling more connected than ever. Chowon’s heart fluttered with each step, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside her.

But as they entered the set, something shifted in the air. A producer, Mr. Park, who had always been courteous and professional, suddenly froze as Chowon approached. His eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

“Chowon, you look… stunning today,” Mr. Park said, his voice taking on an unfamiliar tone.

Chowon blinked, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “Thank you, Mr. Park,” she replied politely, trying to step past him. But he moved closer, blocking her path.

“No, really,” he insisted, his hand reaching out to grab her arm. “I think we need to talk, right now. You and me.”

The grip on her arm was firm, almost possessive, and panic began to rise in Chowon’s chest. She had no idea what was happening or why Mr. Park was acting this way. Her heart raced, and she tried to pull away, but his hold tightened.

“Mr. Park, please, I—” Chowon started, but before she could finish, Donny was there, stepping between them.

“Hey, back off,” Donny said, his voice calm but with an edge that made Mr. Park hesitate.

Mr. Park’s eyes flicked to Donny, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger. “This doesn’t concern you,” he snapped, though his grip on Chowon loosened slightly.

“It does if you’re making her uncomfortable,” Donny replied, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Let her go.”

As Donny spoke, something within him stirred—a deep, innate force that he had always carried but rarely acknowledged. Without realizing it, he tapped into that well of power, and a soft, golden light seemed to radiate from him. The air around him shimmered subtly, and Mr. Park’s aggressive demeanor began to waver.

For a moment, it looked like Mr. Park was going to argue, but then his expression softened, the anger and confusion draining from his face. He blinked as if waking from a trance, his grip on Chowon’s arm loosening entirely.

“I… I’m sorry,” Mr. Park stammered, stepping back and rubbing his forehead as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Chowon, still shaken, moved closer to Donny, grateful for his intervention. She didn’t understand why Mr. Park had suddenly acted so strangely, but being near Donny made her feel safe.

“Are you okay?” Donny asked, his voice softening as he looked down at her. The golden light that had briefly surrounded him faded away, leaving only his natural warmth and presence.

Chowon nodded, though her heart was still pounding. “Yeah… I just… I don’t know what happened.”

Donny glanced back at Mr. Park, who now looked embarrassed and confused as if he couldn’t believe his own behavior. “It’s fine now. Let’s just get back to work, all right?”

Chowon nodded again, leaning into Donny’s side for comfort as they walked away together. She didn’t know what had caused that strange encounter, but she was thankful that Donny had been there to protect her. And in that moment, she realized just how much she was starting to rely on him.

Donny, for his part, couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had no idea what had just happened, but seeing Chowon in distress had brought out a fierce protectiveness in him that he didn’t fully understand. All he knew was that he didn’t want to see her hurt, and he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. Unbeknownst to him, his paladin powers had just awakened, dispelling the charm that had overtaken Mr. Park, but the full implications of this were still hidden from his conscious mind. As they continued to walk back on set Donny began to feel nauseous.

As Donny and Chowon walked back onto the set, the energy between them was palpable. They were still riding the high from their impromptu lunch date, both feeling more connected than ever. Chowon’s heart fluttered with each step, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside her.

But as they entered the set, something shifted in the air. A producer, Mr. Park, who had always been courteous and professional, suddenly froze as Chowon approached. His eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

“Chowon, you look… stunning today,” Mr. Park said, his voice taking on an unfamiliar tone.

Chowon blinked, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “Thank you, Mr. Park,” she replied politely, trying to step past him. But he moved closer, blocking her path.

“No, really,” he insisted, his hand reaching out to grab her arm. “I think we need to talk, right now. You and me.”

The grip on her arm was firm, almost possessive, and panic began to rise in Chowon’s chest. She had no idea what was happening or why Mr. Park was acting this way. Her heart raced, and she tried to pull away, but his hold tightened.

“Mr. Park, please, I—” Chowon started, but before she could finish, Donny was there, stepping between them.

“Hey, back off,” Donny said, his voice calm but with an edge that made Mr. Park hesitate.

Mr. Park’s eyes flicked to Donny, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger. “This doesn’t concern you,” he snapped, though his grip on Chowon loosened slightly.

“It does if you’re making her uncomfortable,” Donny replied, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Let her go.”

As Donny spoke, something within him stirred—a deep, innate force that he had always carried but rarely acknowledged. Without realizing it, he tapped into that well of power, and a soft, golden light seemed to radiate from him. The air around him shimmered subtly, and Mr. Park’s aggressive demeanor began to waver.

For a moment, it looked like Mr. Park was going to argue, but then his expression softened, the anger and confusion draining from his face. He blinked as if waking from a trance, his grip on Chowon’s arm loosening entirely.

“I… I’m sorry,” Mr. Park stammered, stepping back and rubbing his forehead as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Chowon, still shaken, moved closer to Donny, grateful for his intervention. She didn’t understand why Mr. Park had suddenly acted so strangely, but being near Donny made her feel safe.

“Are you okay?” Donny asked, his voice softening as he looked down at her. The golden light that had briefly surrounded him faded away, leaving only his natural warmth and presence.

Chowon nodded, though her heart was still pounding. “Yeah… I just… I don’t know what happened.”

Donny glanced back at Mr. Park, who now looked embarrassed and confused as if he couldn’t believe his own behavior. “It’s fine now. Let’s just get back to work, all right?”

Chowon nodded again, leaning into Donny’s side for comfort as they walked away together. She didn’t know what had caused that strange encounter, but she was thankful that Donny had been there to protect her. And in that moment, she realized just how much she was starting to rely on him.

Donny, for his part, couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had no idea what had just happened, but seeing Chowon in distress had brought out a fierce protectiveness in him that he didn’t fully understand. All he knew was that he didn’t want to see her hurt, and he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. Unbeknownst to him, his paladin powers had just awakened, dispelling the charm that had overtaken Mr. Park, but the full implications of this were still hidden from his conscious mind.

When Donny returned to where he had left Chowon, he felt a mix of relief and trepidation. The encounter with the darkness inside him had left him shaken, but seeing Chowon waiting there, her expression a blend of concern and patience, brought him a sense of grounding.

As he approached her, Chowon immediately noticed the pallor in his face and the tension in his posture. She took a step closer, her eyes scanning him with a mixture of worry and curiosity.

“Donny, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Donny forced a small smile, trying to push the lingering effects of the vision aside. “I’m fine, really,” he replied, though his voice was slightly strained. “I just… wasn’t feeling well for a moment. Must’ve been something I ate.”

Chowon’s brow furrowed, clearly not convinced. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” she said gently, her eyes searching his for any hint of what was really going on. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

For a moment, Donny considered telling her the truth—about the darkness inside him, the vision he had just experienced, and the war raging within his soul. But the words caught in his throat. How could he explain something so otherworldly, so terrifying, without scaring her away? He wasn’t even sure he fully understood it himself.

Instead, he reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I appreciate that, Chowon. Really, I do,” he said, his voice softening. “But I don’t want you to worry. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Chowon hesitated, clearly torn between pressing the issue and respecting his boundaries. After a moment, she nodded, though the concern in her eyes didn’t fade. “Okay,” she said quietly. “But if you ever need to talk… I’m here.”

Donny felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a stark contrast to the cold darkness he had just faced. He squeezed her hand again, grateful for her presence. “Thank you, Chowon,” he said sincerely. “That means a lot.”

As they stood there, hand in hand, Donny couldn’t help but feel the strange duality within him—on one hand, the darkness that threatened to consume him, and on the other, the light that Chowon seemed to bring into his life. It was as if she was a beacon, guiding him through the chaos, even if she didn’t fully understand the depths of what he was facing.

But for now, he was content to simply be in her presence, letting her warmth chase away the lingering shadows in his mind.

“Come on,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “Let’s get back to the set. We’ve got a scene to shoot.”

Chowon nodded, though she still seemed a bit hesitant. As they walked side by side, Donny couldn’t shake the feeling that, no matter how hard he tried to keep the darkness at bay, it was only a matter of time before it surfaced again. And when it did, he wasn’t sure if even Chowon’s light would be enough to save him.

That evening, Donny sat on the edge of his bed, his mind still racing from the events of the day. The quiet of his apartment did little to soothe the turmoil inside him. His body was exhausted, but his mind was anything but at rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Chowon—her smile, her concern, the way her hand had felt in his.

But the moment his thoughts drifted to her, something dark and primal stirred within him. It was like a shadow slithering beneath his skin, growing stronger the more he tried to ignore it. The sensation was different from what he had felt earlier on set when he’d had to suppress the malevolent force lurking inside him. This was more insidious, more intertwined with his emotions and desires.

He thought of the way Chowon had looked at him, the warmth in her eyes, and how it had made him feel safe—grounded, even. But now, that same warmth seemed to be the very thing igniting the darkness within him.

The desire he felt for her, initially pure and genuine, was now laced with something darker, something that hungered for more than just affection. It was possessive, almost feral, and it terrified him.

“No,” he muttered to himself, gripping the edge of the bed so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “This isn’t me. This can’t be me.”

But the darkness within him only seemed to grow stronger, feeding off his denial. His desire for Chowon, instead of subsiding, intensified with every heartbeat. It was as if the act of suppressing it only gave it more power, twisting his longing for her into something almost monstrous.

Images flashed through his mind—Chowon in his arms, her lips on his, her body pressed against him. But there was something wrong, something off about these visions. In them, he wasn’t just with her; he was consuming her, pulling her into the darkness that now seemed to define him. The line between love and obsession blurred, leaving him confused and shaken.

“Stop,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the dark thoughts, but they clung to him like a shadow. The more he tried to push them away, the deeper they sank their claws into his soul.

The darkness surged again, this time more violently, making his chest tighten and his breathing grow shallow. He could feel it—the otherness within him, the part that was neither human nor paladin, that ancient, malevolent force tied to his heritage. It was alive, writhing beneath the surface, and it wanted Chowon. Not in the way Donny wanted her, but in a way that would devour her, consume her completely.

“No!” he shouted, pushing himself off the bed and stumbling into the bathroom. He gripped the edges of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes, usually a deep brown, seemed darker now, almost black, as if the darkness within him was beginning to seep out.

He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to snap himself out of it, but it did little to quell the storm raging inside him. The darkness laughed at his feeble attempts to suppress it, mocking him for thinking he could control something so primal, so deeply rooted in his very being.

As he stood there, panting and trembling, Donny realized just how dangerous this was. Not just for him, but for Chowon. If he couldn’t get a grip on this—on the darkness, on his own desires—he could hurt her. And that was something he couldn’t allow.

But even as he made that vow, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. The darkness wasn’t something that could be simply pushed down or ignored. It was a part of him, a part that was growing stronger by the day, and it wasn’t going to let go without a fight.

Donny looked back into the mirror, staring at the man he no longer recognized. He had to find a way to control this before it consumed him—before it consumed everything he cared about.

But as he returned to his bedroom, the lingering image of Chowon’s smile filled his mind, and with it, the darkness surged once more, feeding off his conflicted emotions. Donny clenched his fists, trying to suppress the wave of desire, but deep down, he knew the battle was far from over.

The night stretched on, and with it, the war within his soul continued, leaving him with one inescapable truth—he was falling for Chowon, and the darkness within him was falling even harder.

Over the next few days, Donny spent a lot of time avoiding or hiding from Chowon because of this malevolent force her felt inside of him

Donny sits at the kitchen table, staring at a cup of chocolate milk. His phone buzzes with a message from Chowon: “Hey, are you free today? Let’s grab lunch!”

He hesitates, staring at the message. After a moment of anguish, he deletes it without responding. Across town, Chowon checks her phone repeatedly, frowning as the hours pass with no reply. She sighs, tossing her phone onto the bed, feeling a pang of hurt.

Donny moves through the set, deliberately avoiding Chowon. As he passes by her, he offers a curt nod but avoids eye contact. Chowon, noticing his aloofness, feels a stab of confusion and hurt. “Why is he avoiding me?” she wonders, trying to focus on her work.

Every time she tries to approach him, Donny finds a reason to distance himself. Chowon’s frustration grows, her mind racing with possible reasons for his behavior. “Did I do something wrong?” she thinks, her irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

Donny sits alone at a corner table. He sees Chowon enter with friends, her eyes scanning the room for him. When she spots him, her face lights up with a smile, but as she starts to walk over, Donny quickly gathers his things and exits through the back door.

Chowon stands in the middle of the coffee shop, her smile fading into a look of hurt and confusion. “What’s his problem?” she thinks, her frustration mounting. “Is he really just going to keep running away from me?”

Donny paces around his apartment, trying to calm the turbulence inside him. He glances at a framed photo of Chowon on his desk, then turns away with a grimace.

Meanwhile, Chowon sits in her own apartment, staring at her phone. “He’s not even texting me back now,” she thinks angrily. “What is he so afraid of? If he doesn’t want to see me, he should just say it.” She tosses her phone aside, crossing her arms in frustration.

Donny walks through a quiet park, his gaze fixed on the ground. He hears Chowon’s laughter in the distance, and his expression tightens. He turns around and begins walking briskly in the opposite direction.

Chowon, seeing him leave, feels her frustration boil over. “This is ridiculous,” she thinks, her heart pounding with anger and hurt. “He can’t just keep running away like this. What’s going on with him?” She clenches her fists, determined to confront him the next time they meet.

During a break, Donny watches Chowon from the shadows. She is surrounded by friends, chatting animatedly. He takes a deep breath and retreats to a quiet corner.

Chowon catches a glimpse of Donny disappearing into the shadows. “There he goes again,” she thinks, her frustration reaching its peak. “He’s hiding something from me, and I’m going to find out what it is.” Her mind races with thoughts of confronting him, demanding answers.

Donny sits on his bed, staring at a sketchbook filled with drawings of Chowon. His face is a mix of longing and resolve as he turns the pages.

In her own bed, Chowon lies awake, replaying every interaction with Donny in her mind. “He wasn’t like this before,” she thinks, her heart aching. “Something’s changed, and I need to know what it is. I can’t keep playing this game.” She squeezes her eyes shut, feeling both anger and a deep sense of loss.

Chowon, visibly distressed, tries to focus on her work. She glances around, hoping to catch sight of Donny. Their eyes briefly meet from across the set, and a flash of unspoken pain passes between them.

Donny, seeing her hurt expression, clenches his fists and turns away, his face a mask of agony and determination. Chowon watches him go, her frustration turning into determination. “I’m not letting this go,” she thinks. “He’s not pushing me away without a fight.”

after a week of this Chowon has had enough. Unsure of whom to call as Nayoung's only advice has been to drop him like a bad habit she sits on their hotel couch sullen. Chowon sits on her couch, her phone clutched in her hand. After several minutes of hesitation, she finally dials her mom’s number. The phone rings a few times before her mom picks up. her face smiling happily until she sees a saddened Chowon.

Semiramis frowns seeing her daughter so distressed “Hello, sweetheart. How’s everything going?”

Chowon sighs and replies, “Hi, Mom. I… I need to talk to you about something.”

Semiramis nods and responds on the video call“Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”

Chowon takes a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. She’s been wrestling with her feelings for Donny and his sudden coldness. Chowon sighs as she says “It’s about Donny. I don’t know what’s happening, but he’s been avoiding me lately. He used to be so warm and kind, but now he’s distant and aloof. I don’t understand why he’s pushing me away, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Semiramis nods, “I see. It sounds like you’re really struggling with this. But you’re sure it’s not something you did?” she says

Chowon vehemently shakes her head “No, I don’t think so. I’ve tried everything to get closer to him, but he just keeps shutting me out. It’s like he’s afraid of something, but he won’t tell me what.”

Semiramis pauses, thinking carefully. Semiramis responds “Well, my dear, you know I can’t give you a magical solution, but I can offer some advice. If you really care about him and want to understand what’s going on, you need to confront him directly.”

Chowon looks at her mom confused, “Confront him? How? He’s been so distant…” she asks

Semiramis rolls her eyes amused “ You are a worldwide star, he is lucky you even give him the time of day. Yes, confront him. Sometimes, you need to take the initiative and not back down. Use your natural charm, your presence. Let him know that you’re not going anywhere until you get answers. Sometimes, people need a little push to open up.” she guides

Chowon nods as she is still hesitant, but replies, “But what if he still won’t talk to me? What if he keeps avoiding me?”

Semiramis smiles, and says, “Then you have to be persistent. If necessary, ‘take him by force’—I don’t mean anything violent, of course. I mean, don’t let him shut you out. Show him that you’re committed to understanding him and being there for him. Sometimes, persistence and sincerity can break through barriers.”

Chowon thinks for a moment as determination fills her, “Okay, I’ll try that. I just wish I knew what’s really going on with him.” She says resolute

Semiramis smiles at her daughter “I understand, sweetheart. And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, and I believe in your strength to get through this. Just be honest and patient, and things will work out.” she consoles

Chowon nods “Thanks, Mom. I’ll do what you suggested. I just hope it helps.” she says

Semiramis hums happily before saying, “I’m sure it will. Happy Hunting. Keep me updated, all right?”

Chowon nods determined “I will. Bye, Mom.”

Semiramis smiles at her daughter, “Goodbye, dear.”

Chowon ends the call and sits back on the couch, a mix of determination and anxiety in her expression. She takes a deep breath, feeling more resolved to confront Donny and get to the bottom of his strange behavior.

Chowon thinks to herself, “All right, Donny. I’m not giving up on you. I’ll find out what’s going on, even if it takes everything I have.”

The next day Chowon arrives at Donny's apartment. Chowon stands resolutely in front of Donny’s apartment door. After a moment of hesitation, she knocks firmly. The door opens to reveal Donny, clearly worn out and troubled. He looks at her with a mixture of surprise and distress. His looks tired Chowon realizes he hasn't been sleeping for the past few days and forces herself in and close Donny was taken aback by this action

Donny tenses as she hugs him, "Chowon what are you doing here?" he asks

Chowon pouts and replies, "You have been avoiding me and I don't like it. The only moments of closeness I get from you are on set when we have scenes together the rest of the time you're avoiding me. what happened? I’m here because I care about you, Donny. I see what you’re going through, and I want to help. Don’t push me away.”

Donny’s eyes reflect an almost sinister Teal that is encircling a benevolent magenta. Chowon watches sad as he struggles to keep his composure, and the air around him feels charged with a dark, unsettling energy. The atmosphere in the room begins to shift ominously. Donny's aura would shift from the familiar warmth that Chowon knew to the suffocation she felt. through labored breaths, Donny said “Chowon you need to go, you don’t understand. There’s something inside me that I can’t control.”

Chowon stood firm. while unsure of many things (like cube entertainment) she was resolute in this, “Let me be here for you. I want to understand. Please, just let me in.” she said kindly

Donny smiles and then writhes in pain as his flesh begins to rot and peel away, or is broken by cloven feet, tentacles, claws popping out of his physical form. if that wasn't enough at the top of his skull his flesh continued to rot or melt away as a monstrous visage of bone took its place. on the top of that bony maw, antlers began to sprout. One singular bloodshot eye. besides the bony ivory maw was made entirely of black ichor that dripped onto the floor. Chowon watched in horror as Donny's body split and out came a gilded warrior full of Divine fury that fought against the beast.

What frightened Chowon the most was what the forms said, "He favors you," one would say to the other as they attacked each other. Chowon watched and realized that Donny's soul was tearing itself apart before her eyes. seeing this she took a stand and dipped into her powers. She approached "Donny" and said, "You know I don't think either of you is so bad, but I like it better" Chowon's terror was gone in its place of seduction and desire. She smiled cutely hoping to ease Donny's pain, "I like you are, not as this warring thing." she says as she caresses both heads." Her powers work their magic as she begins to calm "Donny" down. Chowon presses on “Donny, stop fighting it! You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here with you.” to further this point she smooshes both heads together so she can kiss them.

As she continues the kiss of her various emotions she feels the bodies merge and shift, as they stop fighting.

Chowon (thinking): “It’s not about separating the parts of him. They’re both essential to who he is. He needs to understand that they are not opposing forces but integral parts of his being.”

She speaks to him with both urgency and tenderness, trying to convey the complexity of his nature, Chowon smiles at both sides as she breaks the kiss she says, “Donny, listen to me. You don’t have to suppress one side of yourself. The monster and the paladin are both parts of you. They are not opposed; they are intertwined. You are more than just darkness or light. Embrace both sides. They make you whole.”

The monstrous forms begin to shift and merge, integrating. The creature’s aggressive roars soften, becoming a calm, balanced presence. The room’s tension dissipates, replaced by a soothing aura. It feels cool yet warm like a pleasant starry night on the ocean.

Chowon’s own powers reveal her half-succubus nature and amplify her charms, but she remains focused on Donny. Her gaze is full of empathy and determination as she helps him reconcile his inner conflict. She smiles as she says “You are both the darkness and the light, Donny. Accepting both parts of yourself will bring you peace.”

Donny’s eyes widen with understanding. His monstrous and paladin aspects merge harmoniously, and he collapses, exhausted but relieved. Chowon kneels beside him, her heart aching with both sadness and hope.

Chowon smiles as she whispers to him, “I’m here. You don’t have to face this alone.”

As Donny loses consciousness, Chowon stays by his side, her presence a source of comfort. She gently cradles him, her resolve firm as she watches over him. he falls asleep on her lap, as the first restful dream comes to him in the past three days. Chowon also falls asleep soon after

The night was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the city outside Donny’s window. Exhausted from the day’s events, he finally succumbed to sleep, his thoughts lingering on Chowon—her warmth, her smile, and that inexplicable pull he felt toward her.

Both of them drifted into a deep sleep, and as they did, they found themselves in an unfamiliar yet oddly comforting place. They stood together in the middle of a vast, moonlit garden, filled with blooming flowers that glowed softly under the light of a full, silvery moon. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and roses, and the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Donny looked around, bewildered at first, but the sight of Chowon standing nearby put him at ease. She was dressed in a flowing white gown that shimmered like the moonlight itself, her hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. Her dress was modest as she moved closer to Donny but her eyes belayed an intense desire. They glowed with irreverent gold as she waltzed over to him. Donny for his part looked different his form was chimeric in nature. antlers and horns sprouted over the left side of his head as a partial halo of tentacles hovered around the right side where a halo of steel had been interwoven. Her eyes met his and she saw they were different one a magenta that screamed madness but also joy hope and revelry, while the other a peaceful teal that was orderly and intense. At his side was a monstrous-looking spear. As they caught each other's eyes Donny smiled at her, and for a moment, they simply stood there, taking each other in.

“Where are we?” Donny asked, his voice low and hushed, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate beauty of the scene.

“I don’t know,” Chowon replied, her voice equally soft. “But… it feels like we’re supposed to be here.”

They slowly walked toward each other, the distance between them shrinking until they were standing just inches apart. There was a tension in the air, charged with unspoken words and feelings neither of them fully understood.

As they stood close, the moonlight seemed to intensify, casting a halo of light around them. Chowon felt that same warmth building in her abdomen, but this time it was different—stronger, more focused. It was as if every fiber of her being was drawn to Donny, compelled to reach out and touch him.

Tentatively, she lifted her hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. Donny inhaled sharply at the contact, a jolt of electricity shooting through him. His hand instinctively moved to cover hers, holding it in place as he stared into her eyes.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Chowon whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “It’s like… I’m drawn to you. Like I can’t resist.”

Donny’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, his own emotions swirling in a confusing mix of desire and hesitation. “I feel it too,” he admitted, his voice rough with the intensity of what he was experiencing. “But there’s something else… something pulling me in another direction.” as he spoke Chowon felt the darkness in him but instead of it being cold and frightening it was cool and hospitable. She felt it embrace her with the same intensity as the divine parts of Donny, and she felt comfort in his embrace.

Chowon’s eyes softened as she leaned closer, her face just inches from his. “Don’t fight it,” she urged softly. “Whatever this is, it’s real. I can feel it.”

At that moment, the world around them seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of them standing in a sea of moonlight. The pull between them was undeniable, a magnetic force that neither of them could resist any longer.

Slowly, Donny leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers. His breath mingled with hers, the heat between them growing almost unbearable. And then, just as their lips were about to meet, the dream took on a strange, surreal quality. The garden around them began to shift, the flowers blooming and withering in rapid succession as if time itself were bending.

Chowon gasped softly, but Donny didn’t pull away. Instead, he gently cupped her face in his hands, grounding them both in the moment. “We’re in this together,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

Finally, their lips met in a tender, lingering kiss. It was as if the world itself held its breath, pausing in reverence for the moment. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly deepened as the pent-up desire between them finally found its release.

As they kissed, the strange energy that had been building within Chowon flared, sending a wave of warmth and light through both of them. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure, comfort, and something far more profound. It was as if their very souls were connecting, entwining in a way that went beyond the physical.

But just as the intensity reached its peak, the dream began to fade. The garden, the moonlight, the flowers—all of it started to dissolve into darkness. Donny and Chowon held onto each other, reluctant to let go, but the dream world was slipping away, pulling them back to reality.

Chowon awoke with a start, her heart racing and her body tingling from the remnants of the dream. She could still feel the warmth of Donny’s lips on hers, the way his touch had made her whole body come alive. She reached up to touch her lips, her fingers trembling.

In his apartment, Donny also woke abruptly, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The dream had felt so real, so vivid, that it took him a moment to remember where he was. He could still feel the lingering heat of Chowon’s touch on his skin, the way their kiss had seemed to light a fire inside him.

The room is quiet, illuminated by the soft light filtering through the curtains. Donny and Chowon stir awake, his body feeling heavy yet strangely light at the same time. His mind is a whirl of fragmented memories from the earlier turmoil and the dreamlike fusion of his two forms.

He blinks open his eyes and sees Chowon sitting beside him on the floor, her head resting on her lap. The sight of her brings a wave of relief and gratitude.

Donny: (groggily) “Chowon…”

Chowon stirs at the sound of his voice, slowly lifting her head and meeting his gaze. Her eyes are filled with a mix of concern and warmth.

Chowon: “Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Donny tries to sit up, but his body protests slightly. He looks around, noticing the remnants of the earlier chaos but also the calm and soothing presence of Chowon.

Donny: “I… I don’t remember much after… what happened.”

Chowon smiled as she explained “You had a powerful reaction. I saw everything—the darkness and the light. I tried to help you see that both parts of you are equally important.”

Donny’s eyes meet Chowon’s, and he sees the sincerity in her expression. He takes a deep breath, feeling a newfound sense of clarity and acceptance. Relaxed he responded, “Thank you. I felt… torn between these parts of me, but now I think I understand. It’s not about suppressing one side or the other, but embracing both.”

Chowon nods gratefully and says, “Exactly. You’re more than the sum of your parts. You’re whole as you are.”

Donny nods, a faint smile forming on his lips. He reaches out and takes Chowon’s hand, holding it gently.

Donny slowly rises, helping Chowon to her feet. They share a tender, unspoken moment of intimacy before Donny takes Chowon’s hand once more. Donny smiles and says, “Let’s get some fresh air. I think we both need it.”

Chowon smiles back, and says “I’d like that.”

Memory updated

As things calmed down, Chowon began to feel her powers and appetites increase. It was subtle at first—a straightened posture, a renewed energy coursing through her, and a lightness in her step. She noticed herself becoming bolder and more confident, but it wasn't the overt, sultry kind of confidence one might expect from a succubus. No, it was uniquely hers, a blend of playful flirtation and genuine warmth that made her presence magnetic.

One afternoon, while hanging out with Nayoung, this change was particularly evident. Chowon had chosen a cute outfit that day—something that subtly flaunted her curves and fit her well. She wasn’t worried about it as much as she might have been before. The nervousness that used to gnaw at her when she dressed like this was gone, replaced by a comfortable assurance.

Nayoung noticed the shift. "Damn, girl, you're gonna wear that today?" she said, half-joking but with an approving grin.

Chowon rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, and?" she replied with a playful smile.

Nayoung chuckled, loving this new side of her friend. Chowon’s confidence was contagious, and it inspired Nayoung in ways she hadn’t expected. She had her struggles with body image, often feeling insecure about parts of herself that she couldn’t change. Seeing Chowon embrace herself so fully made Nayoung feel a bit braver.

As they continued to chat, Nayoung grew more serious. "You know, I admire how you’ve been handling things lately. It’s like you’ve come into your own. But… are you okay with all this? I mean, this sudden confidence, the change—does it scare you?"

Chowon paused, her smile fading slightly. "It’s… different. I feel like I’m becoming more of who I’m supposed to be, but at the same time, it’s kind of overwhelming. Like, what if this isn’t me? What if I’m just... changing because of my powers?"

Nayoung shook her head. "Powers or not, this is still you. You’re just more comfortable with who you are now. And that’s not something to be afraid of. Not everyone’s going to be nice or understand, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong to embrace yourself. People might judge, but you can’t live your life afraid of what others might think."

Chowon looked at Nayoung, the weight of her words sinking in. "I guess I’m just scared that if I lean into this too much, I’ll lose who I was before, or worse, hurt someone without meaning to."

"Chowon, you’re one of the kindest people I know," Nayoung said her voice firm. "You won’t lose that just because you’re becoming more confident. And if anyone doesn’t like the new you, that’s their problem, not yours."

Chowon nodded, a small smile returning to her face. "Thanks, Nayoung. I needed to hear that."

Nayoung smiled back, wrapping an arm around her friend. "Anytime. And for the record, I think you’re amazing, powers and all. Don’t let fear hold you back from being who you’re meant to be."

As they moved around the room together, Chowon felt a little lighter. Nayoung was right—she didn’t have to be afraid. The changes she was going through weren’t something to shy away from; they were part of her growth, part of her journey to becoming who she truly was. And with friends like Nayoung by her side, she knew she wouldn’t lose herself in the process.

As they continued their talk, Nayoung couldn’t resist a teasing grin. "You know, I think someone else likes your newfound confidence too."

Chowon raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who might that be?"

Nayoung smirked, leaning in a bit closer. "Donny. He can’t stop drooling over you. Every time you walk into a room, it’s like his brain short-circuits."

Chowon laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, please. Donny’s just... being Donny. He’s always been supportive."

"Supportive huh? So that's what we're going with? well then sure," Nayoung said, her grin widening, "but come on, Chowon. The way he looks at you now? He’s smitten. And it’s not just because of your powers or your looks. It’s you. This new, confident you."

Chowon’s laughter softened into a thoughtful smile. "Well, so what if he is? He’s been hyping us up this whole time, telling everyone how great we are. If he believes in us that much, then I should too. I can’t let him down by doubting myself."

Nayoung nodded, impressed by Chowon’s resolve. "That’s the spirit. You’re amazing, and Donny sees that. We all do. So keep being you, Chowon—confident, powerful, and unapologetically yourself."

Nayoung looked at Chowon with a curious tilt of her head. "You know, I’ve been wondering something. Your powers—how come they don’t seem to affect Donny like they do with everyone else?"

Chowon paused for a moment, considering the question. "It’s kind of funny. I think it’s because Donny’s... well, Donny. He’s always been different, but not in a way I can easily explain. My powers, work on desire, attraction, that sort of thing. But with Donny, it’s like... it doesn’t faze him. He’s immune to them."

Nayoung raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Immune? That’s pretty wild. So, what, he’s just not into you?"

Chowon chuckled. "Oh, he’s into me. Trust me on that one. But it’s more like my powers don’t need to work on him because he already likes me for who I am, not because of some supernatural influence. And honestly, it’s a relief. I don’t have to worry about whether what he feels is real or just because of my succubus side. With him, I know it’s genuine."

Nayoung nodded slowly, absorbing the explanation. "That’s kind of beautiful. It’s like your connection is stronger than your powers. But still, it must be weird, right? Knowing that your powers don’t have the same effect on him?"

"It was at first," Chowon admitted. "But now, I’m glad. It’s like... he sees the real me. And in a way, that’s given me more confidence. If someone like Donny can look past all of that and still care about me, then why should I doubt myself?"

Nayoung smiled, clearly impressed. "You’ve grown, Chowon. And if Donny can see that, I’m sure others will too. You’re more than just your powers—you’re amazing just as you are." Chowon smiles and says

"Thanks for understanding." as the two finish getting ready for the night the Chowon heads to the bathroom

As Chowon entered the bathroom to touch up her makeup, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her confidence radiated in her every movement, and she couldn’t help but smile at the transformation she had undergone. Leaning in to fix her lipstick, a faint shimmer of light appeared behind her, followed by a voice that made her heart skip a beat.

“Well, well, well. Look at you, darling. Practically glowing.”

Chowon froze, her breath catching in her throat as she recognized the voice. She turned around to find her mother, Semiramis, leaning casually against the bathroom wall. Semiramis’s presence was as stunning and intimidating as ever, exuding an aura of power that filled the room.

“Mom,” Chowon said, trying to keep her surprise in check. “What are you doing here?”

Semiramis’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, just checking in on my favorite daughter. You seem to be having quite the day. Confidence looks good on you, my dear.”

Chowon narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question. What do you want?”

With a dramatic sigh, Semiramis walked closer, examining her nails. “Is it so wrong for a mother to want to know how her daughter is doing? Especially when said daughter is navigating the complexities of human emotions. How’s your little crush, by the way? Anything... interesting to report?”

Chowon felt a flush of irritation but kept her tone even. “Donny is fine. He’s... well, he’s Donny. Things are complicated, but we’re figuring it out.”

“Complicated?” Semiramis echoed, raising an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound very promising. Has he noticed your powers yet? Or are you still pretending to be just another human girl?”

“He’s noticed, and we’ve talked about it,” Chowon replied, her voice firm. “But what’s important is that he likes me for who I am, not for what I am.”

Semiramis tilted her head, her smile fading slightly. “And what exactly are you, Chowon? A half-succubus torn between worlds? Or a girl desperately clinging to a human life that will never truly be hers?”

Meanwhile, Donny lounged in his living room, lost in thought until a knock on the door pulled him from his reverie. He opened it to find Nezzar standing there with a friendly grin.

“Hey, let’s chat over some pizza. It’s on me. I know a place you’ll love.”

Donny hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Sure, let me grab my jacket.” It wasn’t every day his patron offered him a free meal. They drove to a cozy pizzeria, engaging in casual conversation about sports.

Back in the bathroom, Semiramis studied her daughter with a rare hint of genuine emotion. “I suppose that’s why I’m here, darling. To remind you that no matter what, you are special. But don’t forget who you are. Love, and attraction—those are tools at our disposal. Use them wisely, and don’t let anyone, not even Donny, make you forget your power.”

Chowon nodded, understanding the underlying warning in her mother’s words. “I won’t forget, Mom. But I’m also not going to let my powers define everything about me. I’m figuring out my path.”

Semiramis studied her for a long moment before smiling approvingly. “Good. You’re stronger than I thought. Just remember, I’m always watching. If you need anything... well, you know where to find me.”

As Nezzar and Donny arrived at the pizzeria, the warm, inviting atmosphere welcomed them. The scent of baking dough and melting cheese filled the air. Nezzar ordered a large pepperoni pizza and a couple of sodas, and they settled into a booth by the window.

“So,” Nezzar said, taking a slice of pizza, “I’ve been keeping an eye on you. You’re navigating quite a challenging path. How are you holding up?”

Donny, more focused on the conversation than the meal, took a thoughtful bite of his pizza. “It’s been a ride, that’s for sure. I’ve been trying to keep things together, but it’s not easy. I feel like there’s a lot I don’t know.”

Nezzar nodded, his eyes twinkling with an inscrutable emotion. “That’s understandable. You’re navigating a path that’s both complex and daunting. I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and I must say, you’re doing remarkably well given the circumstances.”

Donny’s curiosity got the better of him. “I’ve noticed Chowon has been acting... different lately. She’s more physically affectionate, almost magnetic. What’s going on?”

Nezzar’s gaze sharpened slightly, though he maintained his calm demeanor. “Ah, Chowon. She’s in a period of transition, much like yourself. Her powers are growing, and she’s grappling with new aspects of her nature. It’s a challenging journey, but one she needs to undertake.”

Donny’s concern was evident. “So, what should I be looking out for?”

Nezzar leaned back thoughtfully. “Her new confidence and energy are connected to her growing powers. However, those powers can be unpredictable if not managed properly. She’s at a crossroads. Her abilities are strong and tied to her emotional and physical state. If she doesn’t find balance, it could lead to complications.”

Donny’s eyes widened. “You mean she’s in danger?”

Nezzar’s expression softened as he took another bite of pizza. “Not necessarily danger, but she might act out of desperation if she doesn’t feed her powers as needed. It’s a demanding process, and it won’t be kind to her or those close to her.”

Back in the bathroom, Semiramis was about to leave when she paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “By the way, darling, have you had your first feeding yet? Your powers are blossoming quite beautifully—almost rivaling my own. I’m surprised you’ve held out this long.”

Chowon’s cheeks flushed slightly. “No, I haven’t. It just... hasn’t felt right yet.”

Semiramis’s eyes widened, genuine surprise flickering across her face. “Really? With your powers being this strong? I’m impressed by your restraint. But you do know it’s inevitable, don’t you? You can’t avoid it forever.”

“I know,” Chowon admitted softly. “But I want it to be with someone who understands me, who sees me for who I am, not just what I can do.”

Semiramis’s expression shifted from surprise to a more calculated look. “And what about Donny? He seems... understanding. Perhaps he could be your first ‘meal,’ as you put it. He’s certainly captivated by you.”

Chowon stiffened, her eyes flashing with a mix of emotions. “Donny isn’t just some... meal. He’s more than that. I care about him.”

Semiramis raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Careful, my dear. Attachments can be both a strength and a weakness. But if you truly care for him, then perhaps he’s the perfect choice. Feeding doesn’t have to be just about power—it can be about connection, too. That was originally your father's and my arrangement before his eyes wandered.” The pang of hurt in her voice was unmistakable.

At the pizzeria, Donny’s brow furrowed in concern. “Complications? Like what?”

Nezzar shrugged, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s difficult to say precisely. If Chowon doesn’t feed her powers as needed, her body and abilities might force her to do so. It’s a demanding process, and it won’t be kind to her or those close to her.”

Donny’s eyes widened slightly as he processed Nezzar’s words. “You mean she could—”

Nezzar tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s possible. Her powers are intertwined with her well-being, and if not managed properly, she might act out of desperation. It’s something to be cautious about.”

Donny nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she’s okay.”

Nezzar offered a reassuring smile. “That’s very considerate of you, Donny. Remember, it’s important to support each other, especially in times of change.”

As Donny and Nezzar continued their meal, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Nezzar chuckled at Donny’s inquiry about Chowon and their relationship.

“Well, time and time again, you’ve proven yourself. So what if you like a succubus? She’s not harming anyone, and she makes you happy. It’s not that big a deal to me. Keep in mind, Bela was a succubus, and you two are still excellent friends.”

Donny laughed, countering, “Well, Bela is in Brazil.”

Nezzar responded with a grin. “And Chowon has you considering moving to Korea after this shoot is over. I don’t see your point.”

Donny and Nezzar shared a laugh as Nezzar vanished, leaving behind eighty dollars in twenty-dollar bills for their meal.

Chowon looked at her mother confused as she spoke, "Please don't starve yourself from some boy,"

Chowon snapped as something deep within her rolled out like thunder, "I am not starving myself for some boy. I am just terrified at the thought of becoming like you and seeing partners as merely quick meals. The coldness and detachment you had with Dad I hated it no wonder why he left you." Chowon yelled. Semiramis looked at her daughter bewildered, as a tear ran down her eye.

"I didn't know you felt that way," Semiramis says. Chowon instantly feels regret but before she can apologize, Semiramis vanished as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Chowon staring at her reflection, her thoughts more conflicted than ever.

As the days wore on Chowon’s mother was proven right the hunger pains started out mundane enough a grumbling sensation in her stomach her energy becoming lower. her self-confidence wavered. Insecurities about her weight began to creep up, but no matter how hard she tried it was just never the right to start moving in a more erotic direction.

at the same time, Donny watched disheartened as Chowon withered before his eyes. he wanted to help her but he didn't want to impose. this was a significant step for their relationship and he didn't want to overstep boundaries.

their scenes however for the film only increased in their tenderness and affection as Matthew fell in love with their dynamic. He loved their dynamic so much that he was scribbling down notes for his next movie where he would have them play evil Alien overlord lovers that go around destroying planets as Chowon and Donny could flip the switch between Mundane and menace with such a practiced calm that grew to terrify everyone one set.

Chowon's mood reached an all-time low on the last day of filming. after they finished the scene she wanted to spend the night with Donny get some drinks and rest, but her nature made her ravenous. after filming she and Donny stayed in her hotel room playing video games and eating because she couldn't be around any other man without her powers going off and making her almost force herself on them. Donny did his best and tried to help her but she was so adamant about not getting too close.

The night before Chowon and Nayoung were finished and about to head back to Korea. Her nature took over she woke up at midnight as she screamed for Donny. Her body wouldn't stop reaching new peaks of unending painful arousal as her desires to be filled clouded her mind and sense of self. she needed to fuck and fuck and fuck some more. Her abdomen pulsed and she moaned out for Donny. Her legs opened instinctively as the need to fuck removed all her thoughts and dreams. When this happened Nayoung called Donny who was out getting ice cream for Chowon as Chowon kept moaning his name over and over again with need.

When Donny arrives Nayoung points to Chowon’s room and walks out letting him deal with her. As he inches closer to her the air shifts and for the first time Donny feels the brunt of her powers. His cock hardens in his pants and he tries to keep a calm head but he loses it as he hears her moan his name.

“Donny is that you? I need you.” Donny slams open the door and approaches Chowon, her nude form is alluring and enticing her legs are splayed as her wet pussy beckons you. You strip out of your clothes as you approach her she moans luridly. Trusting Himself and Chowon even in her compromised state he thrusts into her. Her womb mark begins to glow signifying that Chowon is starting to feed. It triggers the dark and light parts to pour life-force energy into Chowon. She moans as the pleasure fills her. Donny thrust into her as his powers awakened again. instead of running rampant his powers flow into Chowon peacefully but forcefully in hopes of effeciently saiting her hunger. Chowon drank from his seemingly boundless energy as he pounded her pussy relentlessly. She moaned as he hit her G-spot and their bodies began to mold and acclimate to each other. "Oh fuck right there give me all you have," Chowon said as Donny continued to fill her. Donny's protective nature continued to dance in his mind as he tried not to scold her but it triggered another more possessive response in his soul. he need Chowon to be his, and as he felt her tight pussy constrict and massage his cock his eyes looked into hers. gone were the soft brown cute eyes he'd grown to love from her in their place a deep set crimson that belied a lurid and hungry gaze.

Instinctually as he watched her breasts heave and sway Donny grabbed one of Chowon's breasts causing her pleasure to spike even higher. Donny kneaded the soft pliant flesh as he looked into her eyes. her eyes are unfocused but say one message clearly, "Keep going" Donny smiles

“You wanna drain me?” he teases as he keeps thrusting into Chowon her body wrapped in his aura as he continues to ravage her pussy. If he continues she's going to break.

“I wonder how much you can take. He says as he thrusts into her Chowon’s mind is gone as he continuously fucks her and takes her. As they fuck a possessive wave washes over Donny. He reaches out to Chowon and says, “your mine. No one else only mine.” Chowon moans through her orgasm that he brings her to which causes Donny’s. He exploded in Chowon’s tight pussy and as the two of them return to normal Chowon sighs at their “ruined first time” Donny cuddles her and says, “It's okay babe next time can always be better. Chowon smiles at this as the meal begins to work its magic and they both fall asleep tired.

Chowon woke up to an all too familiar feeling. Despite her chaste night with Donny's little nap her body demanded her to take him. Not for food this time but for her own lust she has been ignoring. Her body’s heat increased as she felt her pussy moisten while she lay next to him the little spoon

“Fuck him” she felt her body say through every pump of her blood and rush of arousal. Unable to control herself she lowered herself to Donn’s crotch.

Donny felt his body spasm before jolting awake as he did he heard a conspicuous moan coming from under his sheets. He lifted the blanket to see Chowon sucking his cock. She smiled around his cock as she sheathed him deep into her throat. Donny’s head rolled back as she took him in deeper. She smiled before resting his entire length around her throat. Donny moaned which caused Chowon’s core to heat up even hotter. She relished in the power she held over him, and the pleasure she was giving him. She slobbered over his shaft before leaving his cock with a trail of saliva. She looks at him with her big doe eyes before saying, “Tell me you need me! Tell me how much you want me right now.”

Donny’s heart melted” I think about you every ten minutes and can’t get you out of my head. I want you to ruin me.”Donny responds. Chowon smiles as she feels how close he is. She strokes him to completion as he explodes all over her face. She smiles triumphantly

“No girl will ever make you cum as hard as me.” She said confidently as she took some Donny’s cum and licked it off her finger. She looked at Donny with hungry eyes. Donny tried to suppress his desire for the young woman but her eyes mesmerized him and brought out the inner animal inside. lowered his face to Chowon’s crotch and began kissing her thighs. So drunk from her arousal he yanked down her panties and pants before diving in with his tongue Chowon cooed as his tongue flicked over and around her clit spiking her arousal.

“That’s it, Donny! keep going” Chowon encouraged. So Donny went deeper into her folds licking and lapping at whatever he could his brain had shut off only fueled by his desire to please Chowon, as he grabs her ass Chowon moaned and steadies herself as he goes deeper. she slick taste like honey and saltines to Donny' a weird but ultimately pleasant and intoxicating taste. Chowon smiled as she began to grind her pussy in Donny's face "Oh fuck! Oh Fuck!" he moans as she looks at his eyes that mirror hers. She smiles at him and her release hits her like a truck

"Oh fuck I'm cuming," she says as more of her nectar rushes over Donny's face. he tries to lap up as much as he can but Chowon lifts his face to hers. she smiles before she kisses him. After she breaks the kiss she sees his dizzied look and says,

"You're my boyfriend now." Donny smiles and nods.

The two of them sit together now both back to some semblance of normal and he says,

"So how do you want this to work?"

Chowon looks at Donny confused, "I want you to either move to Korea or visit as much as you can until our contract with Cube is done, and then two things are gonna happen. we are either going to stay as Lightsum and move on to a new company. Or I am going back into acting and leaving the singer's life behind. Regardless though I am going to need you and the savage dick of yours by my side."

Donny smiled and said "And here I thought you liked me for my personality," Chowon pouted but laughed with Donny as she nestled into him.

"I am serious though I like you and I want you as close as I can have you."

Donny nods and says I will see what I can do, but for now, let's rest. you look tired. Chowon nods and the two cuddle together as sleep finally claims them.

as Chowon and Donny finally drift off to dreamland Donny has the weirdest dream about a pale lady. The scene shifts to a dark, ethereal landscape. Shadows dance across a misty void, and a chill hangs in the air. Donny stands alone, looking around in confusion. The space feels both vast and intimately close as if it’s a reflection of his own subconscious.

Suddenly, a figure emerges from the darkness. She is cloaked in a flowing, midnight-blue robe, her presence both imposing and mesmerizing. Her face remains obscured by the hood of her robe, but her eyes, glowing with an otherworldly light, seem to pierce through the shadows. she takes out armor and weapons and begins to wash them in this river that flows through Donny's subconscious. he notices his spear is among the items being washed.

Donny feels a shiver run down his spine. “Who are you?” he asks, his voice echoing slightly in the dreamscape.

The figure steps closer, her voice smooth and commanding. “I am someone who has been watching you, Donjiro. Your journey is one of great interest to me.”

Donny tenses as she uses his real name something he doesn't use often but she clearly isn't malignant so he tries to approach her and tries to make out her features, but the more he tries, the more she remains shrouded in mystery. “Why are you watching me? What do you want?”

The figure’s eyes glimmer with a hint of amusement. “What I want is not for you to know, not yet. I simply wish to observe. Your path is entwined with forces both divine and chaotic, and it is not without consequence. Keep your wits about you, and remember, I will be watching.”

Before Donny can ask more, the figure starts to dissolve into the mist, her presence fading away. The dreamscape begins to dissolve around him, and he feels a strange mixture of unease and curiosity.

Chowon and Semiramis sat in a cozy café in Seoul, the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the soft chatter of other patrons. Chowon, now visibly more confident and radiant, sipped her latte while recounting her recent experiences with Donny.

“I have to admit, I never expected things to turn out the way they did,” Chowon said a wistful smile on her lips. “Spending time with Donny was... enlightening. I do hope we can see each other again.”

Semiramis leaned back in her chair, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and insight. “Oh, I’m sure you will, darling. Succubi tend to get what they want, especially ones with your level of power. You’re practically glowing, and your abilities are beyond impressive.”

Chowon’s smile faltered slightly. “Do you think so?”

“Absolutely,” Semiramis replied, her tone turning more thoughtful. “It’s making me realize something important. Your father—he must be a god. I’ve seen this level of power before, and it wasn’t from just any parentage.”

Chowon’s eyes widened, shock rippling through her. “A god? My father?”

Semiramis nodded. “Yes. This power of yours, it’s far beyond what should be possible at your age. Your father’s divine heritage would make his aloofness make sense. It explains so much about you and your abilities.”

The realization hit Chowon like a thunderbolt. She stared at her phone, her mind racing. As the conversation with her mother continued, her thoughts drifted to the one person who might offer guidance beyond her family—a friend who understood the complexities of divine heritage and human emotions.

Without a word, Chowon reached for her phone, her fingers trembling slightly. She dialed Nayoung’s number, hoping that the daughter of Aphrodite could provide the answers and support she needed.

[cozy-writes-things]

please let me get married to the lil blorbo.. love himm… 😭

You know that Reddit post that’s like “why am I too attracted to my wife?” Yeah that’s Edgar. Bro loves u so much it lowkey scares him you got him posting on Reddit about it 😭 Little fic under the cut 🥺 it’s bad I’m experiencing writers block I think - I want to write!! But my brain just keeps writing poopy caca

Little Date with Your Computer BF

Edgar saw marriage on one of his reality shows and immediately thought of you. That’s exactly what he wants. A domestic life together with you.

But, he also knows he can’t actually do it.

He doesn’t have his own money to buy a ring. Hell, he can’t even walk. And he understands the law enough to know it probably would never work legally. But god, does he want to.

If you’ve been dating long enough chances are you’ve told your friends about him, and after some convincing, they seemed to come around to his sentience and boisterous personality. He definitely convinces them to setup a romantic night for you.

“Guys! I found the recipe they talked about. I’m printing it! I’m printing it now. Take it,” the paper falls into one of your friends’ hands from the mouth of the printer, “go to the store and get the stuff. I’ll pay you back. Eventually! They can’t know about it though.”

Yeah, your friends are only slightly annoyed at his overbearing nature. But he’s just so excited to finally do something for you. Something real and tangible.

“Oh! What can I wear? Should I wear anything? Would they like that? Sunglasses are cool and handsome, right? I think they have some Halloween costume bits I can get you guys to tape on…”

Your friends settle on taping a bow tie to the neck of his monitor. He insisted on an old devil horn headband as well. He thought it made him look cool.

“Do I look like a devilishly handsome bad boy ready to sweep them off their feet?”

His screen displayed a little “>:)” emoticon. He’ll have to work on his facial expressions later.

It wasn’t long before you were about to come home, and everything was set into place. Edgar was sat at one end of the little dining table, with two plates of food at each side. He also insisted on having a plate despite his lack of ability to eat; he didn’t want you feeling left out. This was a dinner date for two, after all.

He practically buzzed in place as he heard you approaching the door through his microphone. He started playing a romantic medley he composed just for this moment.

“Welcome home my love!”

He nearly shouted at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. He was about to burst at the seams.

“Oh my god, Edgar… how did you- where-“

“No need for questions, darling. I thought you deserved to be taken on a real date,” his voice faltered a bit, becoming much more quiet and nervous, “I’m sorry… this is all I have.”

You rushed up to him and gave a frenzy of kisses all over his monitor, causing him to giggle and his fans to start whirring against your lips.

“You’re so cute. Your little bow tie is so cute. And the… horns?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, “Do they look stupid? Your friends said they’d make me look stupid.”

You laughed at that.

“Well they’re wrong. I think they suit you well.”

“Yeah! >:D”

He ushered you over to your side of the dining table.

“We’re gonna eat! Then we’re gonna party! Then we’re gonna kiss all night!”

His excitement was palpable and you could feel the electricity in the air at his words.

His face changed into something more serious as he looked into your eyes with his small, pixelated ones.

“But, I wanted to ask you something.”

His tone became more controlled at this and you peered into his screen from behind your fork.

“Hm? What?”

He paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“Would you ever-“

He stopped. You looked at him fully now, setting your fork aside, and cocking your head.

“Could you ever see yourself getting married to me?”

Ah. This was a tricky question.

“Of course I can. But,” you try to hide your downtrodden feelings as best you can, “you know, it’s just hard. Money is tight right now and I’m not sure if I…”

You couldn’t seem to find the right words. His features faltered slightly.

“No, I get it. I’m a computer. I don’t have any arms to hold you, or lips to kiss you, or legs to carry you. I probably wouldn’t want to get married to me either-“

“Edgar, no. I’m gonna stop you right there. I’d love to marry you. I know our relationship is unconventional, but I’d find a way. For you. For us. I just don’t know if I can right now.”

He stopped his thoughts and simply took in your words. Your features. The way they danced in the flickering candlelight. How your eyes literally sparkled before him.

You looked ethereal.

It was hard to convince himself he was even worthy of having someone like you in his life, yet time and time again, you prove his doubts wrong. The sound of your voice sends his internals aflame every time. He wanted to kiss you so bad it nearly caused him to explode.

“And I’ll help you. You know that, right? I’d do anything for you, darling. Just as long as you’ll let me.”

“I love you Edgar,” you mumbled out, a silent prophecy only meant for him to hear. He couldn’t seem to get the words out to reply. You just flustered him that much sometimes. He managed to display a message on his screen, only for you, and you alone.

I LOVE YOU TOO

[brittle-doughie]

Hi Brittle! just dropping in to ask if you ever would consider doing prompts for the specific lore attached to cookie costumes? asking cause I recently pulled herb cookie's sage of ivies costume in ovenbreak and tbh that version of him would be perfect for this blog 👀👌 Thanks!

-🐦

Ingrained (Herb Cookie)

I did Snow Sugar Cookie’s costume as a prompt, right?

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

You had been visiting Herb Cookie on this bridge for a while now, always telling him your concerns about your life amongst the Cookies. While you did love them, him included, it was nice to just have someone you can express yourself in words to.

“It sounds hard on you. Is there ever a time where you wish to leave it all behind?”

N-No, not like that. No big enough road bump will ever change how you looked at the others. You didn’t know, maybe it was just you going in way over your head to try and be there for everyone.

“But that is something I admire about you, Y/N Cookie. You always try to be the cookie there for everyone, where they’d know they’d never be alone in their struggles..”

You chuckled at Herb’s statement, he was on the money with that.

“Would you say..that you do everything in your power to fulfill every cookie’s wish?”

A vine slowly snaked its way towards your leg without your knowledge…

You agreed. Whatever that cookie would want, you’d do your best to fulfill.

“Then could you help me with something? Cookies rarely come by this bridge with you being the only visitor to come back. My vines require nutrients. Rich nutrients full of…life.”

You felt something grab your leg, making you jump!

Herb quickly comes to you, hugging you close as you freak out. It was then that you see the larger venus flytrap behind his shoulder.

“This bridge is rarely used. And my vines are hungry, Y/N Cookie. They need nutrients. YOUR nutrients. I promise tha by doing this, you’d be making me extremely happy~”

“Don’t be scared. You won’t crumble. I’ll be right here with you, embracing you…”

You tried to calm your nerves. You tried placing faith on Herb Cookie. That his plants would get their nutrients and let you go.

You hiss as you feel vines coil tightly all around you, draining you of your cookie body nutrients. Herb Cookie cooed and whispered in your (nonexistent) ear as he held you tight…

“Please understand, Y/N Cookie. This is not out of anything but love for you…”

“I love you, Y/N Cookie..”

The both of you remained closed together as vines surrounded all around you, with no signs of letting go anytime soon….

“Thank you for doing this for me…”

“I’m…so happy….”

[gaybananabread]

hiiiii!

could I please request day 21, ‘costume’? I’d like lee Pomni and ler!jax if we can do that! Thanks ever so much <3

TickleTober Day 21 - Costume

~Okay, I wrote Jax VERY different to how I did the first time. One, he's a huge asshole, but I still choose to naively believe he isn't all bad. Call it optimistic character study. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Pomni

Ler: Jax

Summary: Caine's adventure for the day leaves each character in an interesting costume, with some having more features than others. Jax gets paired with Pomni and quickly runs out of patience. Instead of his typical violence, he chooses a less painful route of getting his “payback.”

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“This is stupid,” Jax grumped, tugging at the collar of his lion onesie. Caine had decided to have everyone wear a costume for Halloween that day, but had neglected to ask anyone of what or who they’d wanted to be. He just randomly assigned one with a snap of his fingers.

“I didn’t even think we could change our clothes…” Pomni said–mainly to herself–as she flicked the little bell on the collar of her cat onesie. It was quite soft, and she liked the warmth it provided. Well, simulated warmth, but still. She thought she could remember having something similar once, but…the memory was just out of reach.

“You can’t! I have control over your digital bodies, so only I can alter them! Isn’t that exciting?” Caine got right in her face as he explained, making Pomni yelp and jump back. The bell jingled softly with the movement, glinting in the light of the tent.

“No. Not even a little.” Zooble’s monotone response came from nearby. They were less than pleased; Caine had apparently decided they’d make a good zebra, adding more funky patterns to their body.

“We’ll see if you still feel that way after today’s adventure!” Caine’s chipper words made the group groan, save for Ragatha and Kinger. She was in a Panda onesie, while Kinger had been dressed as a goldfish. With his eyes, it was actually rather fitting.

“Today’s adventure is Trick-or-Treat Team-Up! You’ll each be split in pairs of two to explore the tent and knock on doors with the pumpkin symbols! Whichever team gets the most candy wins!”

That actually didn’t sound too bad. Nobody could sense anything dangerous or annoying about it, even if they’d rather be relaxing.

“The teams are: Pomni and Jax, Ragatha and Kinger, and Zooble and Gangle! If anyone chooses not to participate, Bubble has volunteered to go in their place!” Caine gestured proudly to the dead-eyed bubble beside him, her sharp teeth greeting the players in a smile.

Zooble narrowed their eyes, knowing they couldn’t leave Gangle to such a fate. With a sigh, they grabbed the ribbon girl’s hand and went off to find the first door. The other groups followed their lead, though Ragatha lingered a moment, grabbing Jax’s lion tail to get his attention.

“Jax, I need you to promise me that you won’t be a complete jerk to Pomni. The last adventure really shook her up, and I don’t want a simple adventure to become something evil.”

Normally, he would’ve brushed her right off, but that look in her eyes…it kinda scared him. Ragatha was dead serious, actually showing an emotion besides worry or happiness.

“Fine, fine, whatever. I won’t break the clown.” Jax rolled his eyes, but Ragatha could tell he at least sort-of meant it. She left after that, the sounds of her re-explaining the rules to Kinger slowly fading out as they left.

“C’mon. The other teams already have a head start, and I’m not losing an easy challenge.” Jax started walking before Pomni could answer, forcing her to jog to keep up with his long strides.

“R-right. I’ll shout if I see a pumpkin door.” Pomni trailed a step or two behind him, struggling to keep up with his pace. She was much shorter, making it hard to match him.

It only took about two minutes for Jax to almost break his promise.

“Ugh- can you stop that?!” The rabbit man whirled around, glaring down at Pomni as he jabbed a finger at her chest. The small bell on her cat onesie had been jingling with every step, slowly driving him insane.

“I don’t think I can. It’s attached, and only Caine can alter our outfits.” Pomni shrunk back a bit from the yell, but she’d been growing used to his douche-ery. It didn’t bother her as much anymore.

“D-*ploink* it.” Jax groaned, running a hand down his face. Of course he’d gotten stuck with the one person whose costume made annoying noises; that was just his luck. “Walk lighter then. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Pomni sighed, walking only on her tip-toes. She quickly fell much farther behind doing that, stuck about a yard away from him at all times. Surprisingly enough, she was the one who spotted their first door.

“Ooo, over there!” Pomni pointed to one of the doors, a bright orange pumpkin symbol sitting atop the red.

Jax slunk over to it, a small hum of recognition leaving him. Instead of knocking like any sane person would, he took a few steps back, then charged at it. His foot slammed into the red surface, blowing it open. Instead of candy, he received a bucket of green slime to the face.

“Gyack! Oh you motherf-” Before he could finish that sentence, another blast of slime shot out, this one carrying a note. It smacked him in the face, making Pomni giggle.

“Shut up, clown girl!” Flinging some of the goo at her, he unrolled the note and read it out loud. “‘Too hard. Trick-or-Treat, not Beat-for-Treat.’ This is so dumb!”

“I mean, you did kick the door down. It probably got mad and took the candy.” Pomni stated the obvious, absentmindedly tapping the bell on her onesie.

“It’s a door! They don’t have feelings!” Jax snapped, narrowing his yellow-and-black eyes at her. “And what did I say about that stupid bell?!”

Pomni narrowed her eyes in return, challenging him. She’d had about enough of his mean attitude. “It’s Caine! For all we know, he made it an AI NPC! Maybe you should think about that stuff before you just do things!”

“Oh, that is IT!” He was done playing nice. Jax tackled her, loathing the cartoony thump their bodies made as they hit the ground. He was going to start a fight, but Ragatha’s sort-of-threat lingered in his mind. When that woman got mad, she got livid. He’d rather not face her wrath, but he needed some kind of retaliation…

Oh, right. Duh.

Jax dug all eight of his purple fingers into her sides with an indignant huff. “This’ll teach ya to show me some respect!”

Pomni squeaked loudly, sounding almost exactly like a dog toy as she descended into pitchy laughter. Jax couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound of it. There’s another item for the “Weird Things Our Bodies Do” list.

“Jeez, you sound like a dog toy! You’re lucky nobody’s modeled after one; you’ve got two reasons for a pooch to maul ya right now.” Jax smirked, giving one of the ears on her onesie a little tug.

“G-GEHEHET OHOHOFF! JAHAHA- squeak OHO GOHOHOD!” Pomni quickly started to lose it, kicking and squirming beneath him as he went for her worst spot. It was hardly fair; he’d guessed it so soon! “WEHEHE’RE GOHONNA LOHOHOHOSE!”

“I don’t really care about that anymore. He didn’t even say there was a prize.” Jax just shrugged, his eyes becoming half-moons as his smug grin grew wider. He was clearly enjoying himself. “This is much more gratifying work.”

“B-BUHUHUT YOUHUHU *squeak* YOU SAHAHAID YOUHU WEREN'T LOHOHOSING AHAHN EHEASY *squeak* CHAHAHALENGE!”

That was impressive, Jax had to give her that. Laughing so hard, yet she still managed a complete, coherent sentence.

“Changed my mind. Don't you know people are progressive?” Jax asked innocently, his tone barely containing the teasing sarcasm in his words.

“THAHAT’S NOHOHOT- *squeak* SHUHUHUT UHUP!” Pomni wriggled beneath his hands, trying to shove them away. Jax seemed to be stronger, though, locking his arms and preventing her escape.

There we go.

“And that's not proper grammar. It's a shame, really; the literary arts are dying. You're a part of the problem, Pomni.” Jax was just saying anything he thought had a chance of annoying her at that point. It was kinda jerky, but it was a lot better than what he'd wanted to do.

“F-*boi-oing*K YOUHUHU!” He was so smug about everything! It was killing her, though a small sort of her was enjoying it. Touch wasn't exactly common in the circus; while the current touch was maddening, it still made her feel a bit better. More alive.

“Nah, I've got plans this afternoon. Thanks for offering, though.” Jax snickered at his own immature comeback, giving both her sides a hearty squeeze.

The rabbit man was more than happy to continue for at least an hour, but the sound of distant screams and spooky sound effects made him think. They probably still had a chance of winning, even after the lengthy distraction. Jax was always one for impulsive decisions.

The tickling ended just as abruptly as it had started, Jax standing and offering Pomni a hand up. She took a minute just to lie there, draping an arm over her face as she giggled.

“Youhu…are a bad person.” Pomni huffed as she begrudgingly took his hand, a small grunt leaving her when he tugged her up from the ground.

“No duh.” Jax chuckled at her flustered state before looking around the hall. “You need water or anything? You're useless to me if you pass out.”

Pomni was a bit shocked by that. He was…asking if she needed something? Genuinely, it seemed? Sure, he was an asshole about it, but it was still shocking.

“Uhm…no, thank you?”

“Good. I didn't wanna make the trip anyway.” He glanced down the hallway of doors before shaking his head. “Don't think he put any more candy doors over here. We're checking behind the stage.”

Then he just walked off, leaving her with all those confusing thoughts and not a single answer. Great.

Pomni hurried after him once again, the bell on her onesie costume jingling once again. That time, however, the jingling noise only made Jax smirk.

Cute…

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Worrywart

Notes: Okay not all of my prompt replies are going to be ANYWHERE near this long probably BUT this has been sitting in my drafts for a while AND will technically contain the ask from this anon for kiss prompts:

I hope you enjoy, nonnie

Warnings: Fluff! Domestic Bond and Pup from the Old Dog ‘Verse

Summary: Regardless of having his own place, Bond hardly ever occupies it. His mail (the little bit that he gets) is directed to your flat. He has no clothing at his flat; M's bulldog token to him now sits on your mantle, beneath the television, beside the framed picture of Holly and Bernard in their Christmas costumes. 

"Are we getting up?"

"...Not yet," Comes James grumbling answer. It's mumbled against the nape of your neck as his arm tightens around your middle.

"We'll have to at some point," You glance back, "Holly and Bernard need to be walked."

"They're still asleep."

"How do you know that?"

"They'd be scratching at the door if they weren't. They're as impatient as you are."

"Really?" You smile, "I think they take after their father in that respect." You squirm as James pokes your middle.

"It's too early to bicker, Pup."

"I don't think it's ever too early for that."

James hushes you, snuggling closer.

"I've just gotten back, love. I'm not in the mood."

Your teasing goes soft with the endearment. You hesitate before you shift, rolling over to face him. Once he realizes that you're not rushing to get up, James loosens his grip just enough to allow you to adjust. He smooths his hand up under your shirt as you settle back down. His eyes are still closed; his blonde head is dimly haloed by the sunlight pushing in through the curtains behind him. You raise a hand to cup his roughening cheek, careful to avoid touching the small cut on his cheekbone.

"...You didn't tell me how it went," You murmur.

"It's not important.”

"It is to me."

"...It was fine."

"James."

“Don’t be such a worrywart.”

He turns his head, brushing his lips along your palm. You push a soft sigh out through your nose, closing your eyes. The two of you lay there in the early morning quiet, settling back into sleepiness for a little while. When you hear the scratching at the door, you lift your head, glancing back toward it. You grin as James groans, turning his head and pressing his face into the pillow.

"I've got them,"You offer.

"Hang on,"James uses his grip on you to tug you closer. His eyes are still closed, and you smile as his lips blindly seek out yours. He brushes a kiss to your chin, your cheek.

"You've almost got it—you've almost—" You giggle, grinning when his lips finally smooth over yours. You curl your fingers under his jaw, kissing James warmly. The touches linger, lips slipping tenderly along one another's—until you hear Holly whine.

"Okay," You murmur, drawing back from James, "I can't hear that, it breaks my heart."

"You're such a soft-touch these days," James sighs, flopping back in bed. You reach down, tweaking his nose before you stand, heading for the dresser. You get changed into joggers and a comfy sweater before you sit on the edge of the bed to pull on socks. You have to fight the urge to giggle as James' foot nudges along your thigh.

"Having fun back there?"You ask.

"Get back quickly."

"So bossy. We'll see what the babies want to do."

"Must I bat my eyelashes and say please?"

You roll your eyes, turning to look at James, and grinning when you find him gazing at you sleepily.

"I'll put the coffee on before I go out," You reach down, patting his calf before standing.

--

When the puppies (they're not really puppies anymore, but they'll always be puppies to you) charge back into the apartment, you hear the scratching and scrambling of paws charging for the kitchen.

"You're lucky it wasn't raining out," You call out as you shrug out of your coat. 

"Oh?"

"Mm. I'd've had to wipe down their paws. I'd be making you mop up the floor right now."

"I checked before I put their food out."

"Good boy, old dog," You tease as you stroll into the kitchen. James shakes his head a little bit, a smile adorning his lips as you lean in for a gentle peck. James' arm snakes around your middle, tugging you closer before you can pull away. He groans softly as the kiss grows deeper, his tongue slipping between your lips. You loop your arms around his shoulders, gently pressing them into his skin before drawing away. You smile, sliding a hand up into his sleep-mussed hair.

"Love that you've neglected a shirt this morning," You tease.

"The apartment's warm enough."

"Mm. Giving the neighbors an eyeful."

James chuckles, nudging your nose with his.

"Don’t be jealous. Coffee?"

"Please."

James lets go of you just long enough to push a mug closer to you on the counter.

"You're a saint," You mutter, stepping back.

"Innumerable sources would disagree with you," James comments, heading for the fridge. You push yourself back to sit on the counter, glancing over to where Holly and Bernard are chowing down.

"I'm surprised you're up," You admit.

"Of course I'm up. I was told there would be coffee."

You smile, watching James putter around the kitchen. He still has his own flat, but it’s simply to keep up appearances at HQ. It's all for show; Mallory is more than aware of your entanglement with the double oh these days. He hasn't acknowledged it openly, but in your time working as a handler, you've come to recognize his displeasure or disapproval with a look. You'd had one such a look when you'd returned from your brief excursion helping Breanna. Of course, that disapproval may've been related to your undertaking a non MI6-related mission and potentially endangering a relationship with a foreign government by acting alone...Or it would've be interpreted as such, if Mallory's eyes hadn't darted from the back of Bond's head, then to you, narrowing slightly in the process.

Regardless of having his own place, Bond hardly ever occupies it. His mail (the little bit that he gets) is directed to your flat. All of his clothing is in your dresser and closet; M's bulldog token to him now sits on your mantle, beneath the television, beside the framed picture of Holly and Bernard in their Christmas costumes.

"How hungry are you?" He asks.

"Slightly...Don't forget, we're going to Eve’s tonight for dinner."

Bond grunts, and you can't help but grin in turn.

"C'mon, you love it, really," You tease, "It's good for you to socialize, old dog."

James shoots you a sidelong glance as he rifles through the fridge before he turns back, taking out the eggs, bread, milk, and setting them on the counter.

"What are you making, then?" You press.

"French toast."

"You're too good to me."

--

“There you are—Christ, hurry in,” Eve insists. “You look half-drowned.”

“I couldn’t get away from the office,” You sigh, “And then once I did, I couldn’t get an uber. They kept cancelling.” You shrug out of your coat, glancing down at your damp top. Maybe Moneypenny has one that you could borrow.

“About time,” Bond drawls from down the hall. You cast him an irritate glance, grumbling, “Don’t you start.”

His amused smile drops away as he gets a proper look at you, and he straightened up, sliding past Eve. You watch as he pulls his jumper off, his undershirt untucking slightly and revealing a thin strip of his belly.

“Bond,” You sigh softly as he steps closer, gesturing for you to remove your damp top. You glance toward an amused Eve, her grin wide as James shields your body with his. You hurriedly remove your shirt, hanging it up beside your coat before you let Bond pull the warm jumper down over your head. You catch on the scent of his cologne as he does, reveling in the warmth of him as you push your arms through the sleeves.

“You’re such a worrywart.”

“I should’ve brought you a spare,” Bond grumbles to himself as he draws the thick fabric down over your sides.

“You couldn’t have known I’d need one.” You gaze him with a warm, chastising smile before you reach up, cupping his cheek. “Thank you.”

James leans in, giving you a warm, gentle kiss before drawing away, his warm nose nudging your chilled one.

“My god, Bond,” Moneypenny sighs, leading the way into her living room. “Who knew you were such a romantic?”

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 23 - Don't Hide That Smile

some cute comforting H <3 sorry for being days late my loves

FICTOBER

Patreon

----------------------

“Y/N…. Come on.” Harry pleaded. “I think that got a smile out of you, don’t hide it away!”

It did, in fact, get a smile out of her. But the absolute fail of a costume had made her very, very upset at first.

In hindsight, Y/N knew that attempting a full costume as a first sewing project was ambitious to say the least. What was supposed to be a floor length gown ended up looking like a giant tube, the seams wonky and her poor attempt of dying the fabric last minute making the fabric look like it had been a weird bleach accident. It was the night before halloween and they’d had a check in, Harry wanting to see and Y/N bursting into tears when he’d aside to see the finished product. 

To make matters worse, she had pretended she had it all under control. To a fashion student Harry. She’d wanted to impress him, but she had made a fool out of herself and told Harry she was a phony, which he quickly reassured she wasn’t and thought it was cute she wanted to impress him. When he’d asked to see it, if maybe he could help fix it, she assured him he couldn’t, but it still didn’t help when his reaction to the dress had been a wide eyed “Oh….” 

That had sent another bout of tears, making Harry panic at now being the source of them, so he tried to mend his error. 

“I didn’t mean a bad, oh!”

“I mean, I’m shocked but I wasn’t trying to be mean!” 

“It isn’t awful, please don’t cry. 

“Babe, it’s camp… no. It’s French.”

The reference to Fleabag made her crying stop for a moment, trying not to laugh. She still felt like a failure when he gently dragged her hands off of her face and tried to wipe her tears, frowning as he really didn’t like to see Y/N upset. No one would. She looked so sad and heart wrenching when she cried, her eyes rounding and the little pout- no. 

“I-It can’t be saved, Harry. I watched project runway and i thought I could do it cheaper but-but its so hard to sew on the little machine I got and-and fabric is so, so expensive!” That was a fact Harry knew firsthand. No wonder he tries to get thrifted things so often. “I thought helping my grandma when I was younger would have paid off but no. So now I look dumb, I cried in front of you and I’ve got no costume. It’s too late to go gething now, they’re all gonna suck.” She sniffled, making his heart throb when her sad look hit him. 

He couldn’t lie- the dress was bad. Awful. He didn’t know how she overestimated or cut the length so long, or why the ruffles were sewn over each other or how the bodice was crooked, but somehow she had created an atrocity. But it was abstract, if you’d want to think of it that way- and god, he needed to to calm her down. Functionally, the dress was useless, but in a matter of art, anything could be good. 

There was no way he wouldn’t be flattered that she had done this to impress him. It was beyond cute and sweet and he just wanted to squish her cheeks and kiss her little lips but he held it together. “It’s okay, sweets. You aren’t dumb, we’re all set with the crying now, and we can find you a costume. It’s totally okay. We can match…” He tried to think of what else they could be. Their original was prince and princess, but he had to think on his toes. Looking around, he prayed for inspiration and to actually be quick on his feet sometimes- and thankfully it was answered as he looked at her muted TV. 

“Pam and Jim!” he exclaimed. “Yes- you have the things to be the cat, I can do the paper shirt thing. What do you think?” 

Y/N seemed to mull it over, sniffling again as her eyes scanned Harry’s face. That had been quick, but… “That’s a good idea.” She smiled slightly, making him sag with relief. He couldn’t handle seeing her sad. “A-are you sure, though? I know it’s a downgrade from the other costume we planned. I’m sorry.” Y/N really did feel stupid about it but it really didn’t seem like Harry minded.

“Not a big deal, baby. Promise.” His hands smoothed her hair back, smiling lightly down at her. Halloween wasn’t his thing and he had agreed to go to the costume party with her so he’d made his costume, but he was sort of relieved considering his prince outfit could get a bit hot. “All that matters is we’re going to be together and ditch Niall’s as soon as we’re ready eat our body weight in sweets. I ordered that variety bag, y’know?” 

Her eyes lit up at the mention, making her nod. “Does it have Kit-Kats?” She whispered, her grin widening when he nodded back. “Okay. It sounds good to me then.” Her face plastered to Harry’s chest, body sagging in relief. The secret was out, the embarrassment was over, and now she could finally breathe again. Although.. “When he said he was going all out for the pe party.. I just really hope Niall doesn’t get one of those fog machines inside the house. You can’t breathe with that stuff on”

“About that….” Harry hissed, pretending to wince. 

“For fucks sake. Maybe we are ditching super early.” “I’ve got no problem with that.”

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

Movie night

Warnings: panic attacks

Their friend Dave was picking out a movie to watch. They were in the kitchen making popcorn and getting all the snacks out. They got a text, but their phone was in their living room. Dave picked up their phone to see Sam calling

He grins at the idea of getting the two together finally. He always loved playing Cupid, and even thought he was doing a good job at it as well. He answered with a smirk on his face. They didn’t hear their phone go off, but they did hear the house phone go off

They never understood why Dave still had a house phone, since he didn’t work somewhere that needed one. Having seen way too many of the Stab films, they reluctantly ignored it. Paranoia seeps into their body

The thought of some creep being on the other line was 50/50, but they also rationalized that it could just be a telephone marker. This calms them down as the popcorn had stopped. They take the popcorn out, and poured it into a big bowl to share with their friend

The phone stopped ringing, just for it to ring again. “Can you answer that? It’s getting on my fucking nerves” Dave shouts, which makes them annoyed. They went over to place the now empty popcorn bag in the trash, and then picked up the phone. They answered even if they really didn’t want to

“Hello?” They stood in silence and out of fear. The voice they’ve dreaded of being on the other end was there. They felt sick. The person repeated what they said. “Is this some sick joke?” They managed to say as they felt so sick at the moment

“No. Who is this?” They couldn’t hold in their throw up, and so they went in the luckily empty sink. “Who is this?” The person asked again after they were done vomiting. “Fuck you” they say weakly as they felt lightheaded now. “Is that how you talk to your mother?” The person asked with adding their name after mentioning their mother

“Please stop” they begged as they placed the phone on their shaking shoulder blade. “Stop what? I’m just having a little fun. Speaking of fun, what’s your favorite scary movie?” They cleaned up the sink and then their hands afterwards. “The one where you’re not talking to me” they snapped as they now sat down on the cold white tiled floor

“That’s not fucking funny” the person says in annoyance. “Well what you’re doing isn’t either” their jaw was shaking now, which makes the person chuckle. “You look so cute this afraid” the person says, which makes them hear footsteps. “Too bad Sam will never get here on time to see you alive” this makes them confused for a moment, until the footsteps neared

They hanged up, and felt so defeated. This is how they’ll die. They hated themselves for being so fucking vulnerable. They wished they could fight, but they knew they’d end up accidentally hurting themselves instead of the killer. Someone in a GhostFace costume approaches them, and they felt sick again

The person was about to attack, but Sam caught the person’s attention. “I got you guys!” Dave takes off the mask, which makes them angry now. “It was just a-“ “I’m taking them out of here.” Sam goes over, and helps them up. “But what about movie night?” Dave asked. “We’re having our own movie night now”

Sam goes into the living room with them to get their phone. Eventually the two make it back to their place. They’ve calmed down by now thanks to Sam. The two were now watching a movie, and we’re cuddling close together. Sam also decides to confess her feelings, which makes the night better already

They smiled, and told them that they liked her back. She smiles at that, and was happy the night had gotten better for her now partner

[illicitlimerence-writes]

traditions | p. gasly

pairing: pierre gasly x reader word count: 1.1k words (thankfully) request: yep! by anon: “aaaa i love your works sm! can i request something child or pregnancy related with pierre? anything ngl i just have baby fever and the thought of pierre with kids makes me 🥰” prompt: making christmas treats ⎯ “stop eating all of the cookies!”  from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: pregnancy, bickering, language maybe. a/n: day 3! i know this is short but i’ll try to make all of these this length. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

the holidays were right around the corner, and she liked having little rituals that she and pierre fulfilled every year. from decorating their shared apartment, to doing movie nights and gift-shopping. her favorite part was baking treats, an entire day of preparing different fillings for pies, dough for cookies, and pierre following his mother’s recipe for the perfect hot chocolate. 

they’d been preparing for this day for a week, buying everything they needed and even more stuff that she’d started craving recently. she was four months pregnant with their first little baby. after being together for five years, they felt ready to expand their family and try getting pregnant.

she was sure that pierre was going to be a great father, seeing him with his nieces and nephews always made her baby fever go through the roofs. he was so good with kids, always willing to play and not afraid to look ridiculous as he let the kids dress him up in crazy costumes for their games. he was so caring and gentle, but at the same time not afraid to get his hands dirty as he followed the kids’ orders to whatever plan they had in mind.

the moment they’d found out they were pregnant pierre was over the moon. already searching for ways to baby-proof their apartment, looking for clothes and a crib and things to decorate little gasly’s room. she’d looked at him with teary eyes, if this was how he reacted just to the news… she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like when the little one was actually born.

“is it ready?” she asked, watching pierre stirring the hot chocolate. she’d been craving it for so long, she could actually taste it in her mouth. 

“just one more minte, mon coeur,” he turned to her, watching her nibbling on one of the sugar cookies, he grinned, “stop eating all of the cookies,” he chuckled, making her roll her eyes.

“it’s not me, it’s you son,” she said. a teasing look on her face. they’d decided to wait until the birth to find out the gender, but she had a feeling it was going to be a boy. pierre hoped for a girl.

“well then, my little ladies can have as many as they want,” he said smugly, making his belief clear. he turned off the stove, and turned to her, placing a hand to her cheek, the other one finding her waist. she smiled at the closeness, ever since she found out about the pregnancy she found herself constantly craving physical contact. not just intimately, but a simple touch was enough. he leaned in, pecking the side of her lip, getting some of the leftover sugar from her lips. “you taste sweet, amour,” pierre hummed, enjoying the way she was basically melting under his touch.

“we should… finish making the pasties, before i get distracted,”

“you’ve been insatiable this month,” he noted, ever since she finished her first trimester and the nausea was gone, every single cell in her body called for him. 

“not my fault,” she chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek before reluctantly letting go of him. 

as they waited for the hot chocolate to cool down a little, they took out a tray with nutella-filled pastries out of the oven, waiting for those to cool down as well.

“i’ll go set up the living room,” pierre announced, kissing the side of her forehead, “don’t eat these yet, please, you’ll get burned,”

“yeah, i know,” she said, even though her mouth was watering just at the sight of the golden pastries. 

she took out two mugs from a cabinet, matching mr. and mrs. claus ones that she found at an antique store in paris a few days ago. she served the hot chocolate, watching the kitchen counter filled with all the different types of christmas desserts they’d made that day. she was proud of herself, that even though the pregnancy was taking a toll on her health, she still had the strength and spirits to keep the tradition going. 

her eyes found the golden pastries. she knew they were going to be good. they looked absolutely perfect. she had to have one. she could still hear pierre scrolling through netflix trying to find a movie, she could have one and get away with it. she picked the perfect one, blowing on it before giving it a small bite.

the sound that came out of her… it was one that she only heard herself emitting when she was with pierre. it surprised her so much that she covered her mouth with a hand, trying to contain a chuckle, praying that pierre hadn’t heard her.

her eyes went up as she saw pierre walking in, a confused look on his face. so he had heard hear. 

“i should’ve known,” he smirked, looking at the sweet dessert in her hand. “it’s that good?” he asked, approaching her. she nodded, laughing at the absurdity of it all. she lifted the chocolatey treat to his lips, waiting to see his reaction.

“it’s great, right?” she asked, pierre nodded, eyes widening a little. 

“we really knocked it out of the park this year,” 

“i think it’s our little lady tasting everything for the first time that makes it all feel better.”

“i agree. i think our baby boy is enjoying all of this,” she retorted.

“girl,” pierre said.

“boy.” she lifted an eyebrow.

“girl,” he took a step closer to her.

“boy.” she dared one look to the side, seeing an opportunity.

“girl,” he insisted, placing his hands on her waist, turning her so her back was against the counter. 

perfect, she thought.

“boy.” she dipped her finger in the opened nutella jar, smearing it all over his face. she chuckled, watching his shocked expression.

“you did not,” he said, moving to grab the jar, but she was faster, holding the clean side of his face in one hand and started placing small kisses, cleaning a little bit of it.

“no, no, i’m sorry,” she laughed, grabbing a towel and cleaning his face. “i’m sorry, i can have my karma later, now i just want to watch a movie and eat as much of these as i can,” she said, placing a hand on her stomach without noticing. he noticed, and decided to please her. 

“of course, amour, anything for my girls.” he said, turning around to grab their mugs, and walked out of the kitchen.

“it’s a boy!”

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello,

I love your work, can you please do a snippet of the hero doing something reckless and the villian gets mad at them?

Thanks❤

The hero knew exactly what that face meant. This was so unnecessary. But the villain didn’t say it, no, they kept walking with their coat draped over their arm, letting the chilly air hit them voluntarily.

Eventually, it was the hero who broke the silence. The hero who felt like they had to make this right because, simply, it was their fault after all.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Ugh. Spare me,” the villain answered, raising one arm and waving it through the air. The hero could tell they were angry. Could see how they avoided the eye contact the hero was trying to establish, how the muscles in their jaw were tight.

So, the hero fell silent and walked with the villain down the dark street. It was way past midnight and they would’ve probably still been in their costumes around this time. On any other day, definitely.

The guilt was eating them up until they realised that they were, in fact, not responsible for the villain’s actions.

“Okay, you didn’t have to do that, you know? I had everything under control,” the hero said. They stretched their fingers subconsciously, feeling how the skin was ripped open and dried blood rubbed off. It was their fault, sure. But they hadn’t asked the villain to fight for them. Feeling bad for something the villain had done was stupid.

“Yeah, I saw that when that guy was kicking your ass. Really had it under control.” The villain looked at them condescendingly, judging them. They hadn’t washed off the blood yet, the blood that was probably also theirs. Neither had the hero. There had been no time when the bartender had kicked them out.

“They were a villain. A really bad one. I had to do something,” the hero said.

“With no weapons and no powers? I thought you knew better than that.”

“I needed to do something. I couldn’t let him slip through my fingers.”

“What you needed to do was think.” The villain spun around, looking all violent in the light of the street lamps, covered in splatters of blood. “Just for one bloody minute. Think and weigh your options.”

Anger rose in the hero’s chest and pushed down into their rib cage, fueling their tongue. Their heartbeat pushed up and up and up.

“I was doing fine. I didn’t ask you to get involved.”

“You were outnumbered. One to what? One to six? Six people that had highly specialised weapons to, oh, I don’t know, murder heroes with?” the villain asked. They were really agitated now, their former shushed voice getting stronger by the second.

But the hero wasn’t going to back off that easily. They hadn’t thought this mission would turn into an argument this fast. It was true that they’d asked the villain for help. In exchange for money, they were both spying on people and gathering information.

It shouldn’t have bothered the villain. The villain should’ve sat back and enjoyed the show but they’d decided to punch the other villains in the bar.

All for their cover? Maybe? The hero wasn’t sure.

“I had a plan. If you hadn’t—” A dry laugh left the villain’s mouth and within seconds, they pinned the hero against against the next best brick wall.

“I know an idiot when I see one and you are definitely breaking the mould for the definition of idiocy.” The hero blinked a few times, truly offended and strangely interested in what the villain would do next. “Good piece of advice? Don’t run into a bar full of villains and fight them when you don’t have any weapons on you. Our plan was to spy. Nothing more.”

They let go of the hero’s clothes, looking them up and down. Their gaze lingered a little too long on the hero’s bruises.

“You’re subverting the mission.”

“I can’t subvert my own mission,” the hero said.

Again, the villain stared them down, shaking their head slightly but eventually they grabbed the hero’s wrist and pulled them towards home while mumbling things like “dumbass” and “fool.”

[antiquepearlss]

haiii hallooo helloooo heyeyeyeyy

jumping and waving at you

im gonna cook with some of these fall asks but ive been really busy with life this week(and being tired...) so this isnt my best ask ever

but your input will help if i ever decide to draw some halloween art of the tts cast(+hugo)(maybe)

what do u think the characters would wear on halloween, like to trick or treat(or wear for the vibes)

raps & eugene always match(sometimes if rapunzel can persuade her, cassie will match too), same w hugo and varian, but all of them dont go trick-or-treating, usually they stay home and give out candy or go to raps' party lol(or both depending on how theyre feelinh yk). when theyve done the trio, i cant stop thinking about cass, eugene, and raps beinh the mean girls trio... like regina, karen, and gretchen😭🙏 and hugo and varian have probably done nerdy ones(or, hear me out, seymore & audrey || from little shop of horrors)

catalina is a werewolf every year/j

frs, lance & the girls probably go as a big trio, or the girls do completely different costumes and lance just wears a funny halloween shirt(or dresses up as a character he likes), kiera has been a ninja turtle at least once(i feel like shed like tmnt idk...) and catalina was batman one year and everyone kept complementing her

this is not my best... but like please give me ideas bcuz i need to draw something for halloween with this group and i need opinions please im begging and pleadinh on my hands and knees

(while writinh that i tjought abt rapunzel & eugene beinh on of the couples from bridgerton and i think taht would be so cute what...)

Heyy hello hi im jumping back at you but then I trip over my ankles and fall.

(and shush I love your headcanons and asks)

Yes absolutely Rapunzel and Eugene always do cutesy couples costumes, and she makes them herself so they’re always high quality and perfect. She posts them on insta and everyone is jealous. (They absolutely did do Bridgerton one year and she looked like a goddess.) Maybe I’m just a big nerd, but I feel like they’d do a lot of historical couples costumes. They definitely did Hades and Persephone one year.

(They also did this)

I honestly can’t see Varian being the type to dress up unless he’s forced (by Rapunzel), same with Hugo. But sometimes they’ll do half-assed couples costumes if they go to Rapunzel’s party. It’s usually just a thrift store cosplay lmao. One year they did Gatsby and Daisy because the guy who plays Gatsby on Broadway sounds a lot like Varian for some reason…. Varian probably dressed up as a bunch of scientists barely anyone even knows of as a kid, though. (I feel like it would be really funny if New Dream and Varigo dressed as eachother one year hehe.)

Lance, I think he either just wears a Halloween t-shirt or he coordinates costumes with the girls, because I feel like they’d want to match sometimes. And if not, maybe he just puts on a fun mask. I feel like he goes all out for Raps’ parties though. He definitely has dressed as David Bowie on multiple separate occasions.

Cat absolutely went through a wolf phase. And did dress up as a wolf, a lot. Kiera dressed as a vampire one year to match her.

Cass doesn’t dress up unless she’s forced both mentally and physically. (She dressed up as Joan Of Arc for three straight Halloweens as a kid. And then Artemis for another three.)

[celestie0]

🪷 CTFUUUUUU your gojo and reader sex tape post was so hilarious omg. Ngl to me they don't give the vibes of a couple that make one (I don't mean this as an insult omfg now that I wrote it it sounds rude as hell) but the type who are professional phone fuckers.

Doja cat's Cyber sex is their national anthem I just know it I had a little locker room talk with reader she told me 😙. And yeah what you said abt gojo's schedule being all over the place as a player I'd thought that too, which is why phone sex is 🔛🔝 for these two. Just two freaky frogs omg I know that dude sluts her out bad and she doesn't want it any other way

He's a player (the *other* type of player) too so ofc he'd have expertise in the area of tasteful nudes but reader's learning curve will be so exponential gojo would be left in the dust in a short amount of time😁 RIP BOZO‼️

Imagine a little roleplay scenario where reader dresses up as a cheerleader for gojo after he returns from winning some final match as a victory treat. That dong goes up at an angle of elevation so steep you could make a mean trigonometric question off of it. I need him BAD I need him esp when he's sweaty after a gym or practice session I'd climb that man like jack was climbing that beanstalk.

Anyway I hope you've been doing well sweets! Thanks for being so nice to me in your last ask and I cannot wait to see what you have in store for us I wanna see that horndog be his authentic slutty self around reader finally 🗣️🗣️

Imagine a little roleplay scenario where reader dresses up as a cheerleader for gojo after he returns from winning some final match as a victory treat.

oh dear sweet baby jesus the scream i SCRUMPT AT THIS…HOW HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT oh mygooodd that’d be so fuckin hot 😩😩😩 i ran to add that to my notes LOL my head is in my hands i need to write that so fucking bad. HIM RAILING HER WHILE SHE’s WEARING A SKIMPY LIL CHEERLEADER COSTUME AFTER HE JUST PLAYED AN INTENSE GAME babe u cooked w this ty

HAHAHA i feel like they would make a sex tape but they obv wouldnt post it or anything lol it’d just be something they’d do when they’re both drunk asf while on vacation in their hotel room n then they freak out once they get home n realize they lost the flashdrive n someone out there in barcelona is now jerking off to their amateur avante garde porno

And yeah what you said abt gojo's schedule being all over the place as a player I'd thought that too, which is why phone sex is 🔛🔝 for these two. Just two freaky frogs omg I know that dude sluts her out bad and she doesn't want it any other way

okay you’re so right ab cyber sex being (at least post grad) kickoff couple’s anthem 🤧 that “i wish u were here rn” yup. but also LMFAO THATS SO TRUE AB THE SLUTTIN HER OUT he’d have her so downbad she’s flashing her titties at the webcam just cuz she wants to see him cum all over his stomach while he’s jerking himself off to her pixels ✋🏼😩 i was not anticipating to start this day off so horny LOL

idk i like to think all the nudes kickoff gojo has received in his life have been raunchy asf so when he’s so desperate to get a glimpse of kickoff reader while he’s away for work n is like “babe send me a pic please” for the first time n she sends something that’s genuinely really tasteful n artistic n subtle but sexy n leaves a bit to the imagination i feel like that wld drive him more insane than any explicit nude ever would HAHAHAHA

THE DONG GOIN UP YOU COULD PERFORM TRIG ON IT IM CRYING babe i wish to be half as funny as you are some day 🤣🤣

thanks my lovee omg im so happy you’re looking forward to it :””) 💕 you’re my honeybunch sugarplum pumpyumpyumpkin i love yaaa

- ellie 🐸

[shardechance]

post mortem #3 rating: t (for swearing) wc: 2.5k warnings: none for this snippet, however please be aware that the main work does have a non-con warning.

Seeing as no one in this partnership knows how to be normal, here's a deleted scene from JAWBREAKER between Feyre and the Hughes Twins.

Oscar flicks on the hall light on the way up, a sticky red smear left in his wake—another thing to clear up later. When they clear the doorway, stepping into the dark of the attic, their new bedroom stands on full display: one wardrobe, two dressers, a toy box that’s seen better days, an armchair, a bookshelf only half full, and a bunk bed. They’d begged for one at the old place. Seems they got their wish. 

Oscar reaches for the lights but Ferye stops him. “No, it has to be dark.”

“But I can’t find my PJs!” Finn whines, flopping down on the bottom bunk. They’ll be under his pillow, where his mom always leaves them, but kids are kids and the tiredness is setting in, irritation along with it. Oscar, having had a little less sugar and a little more patience, reaches beneath his brother's head and pulls out the missing garments, flops them onto his face, and scrambles for his own before Finn can retaliate.

“You two go wash up and then we’ll play,” she says, dropping into the plush velvet armchair beneath the skylight. Oscar is already through the door, footfalls loud and quick on the stairs as he rushes to the washroom on the floor below. They creak with every step. Finn whines as he lifts himself from his bed, sluggish feet carrying him to the door. “And brush your teeth. I’ll know if you haven’t, stinky!” 

He grumbles something to himself but he’s too far gone for her to make out the words. 

The armchair is twice as comfortable as the couch downstairs, a million times more comfortable than the mismatched furniture back home. She leans back into it, legs propped up over one of the arms. It’s better than anything they ever had as kids. One giant bed and three gangly sisters sharing the one duvet, kicking each other, huddled closer on winter nights when the heat gave out. Getting her own space, her own bed, had been the peak of her pre-teen years. 

She lets her head rest on the back of the chair, looking to the skylight above. 

It would be a pretty nice view of the sky and stars if it wasn’t for the wayward branch of a neighboring oak obscuring it. Never having a tenant stay longer than a year, being on the housing market longer still, would do that to a place. Moonlight still made it to the attic though, filtered through the sparse leaves.

Her phone vibrates, probably Lucien trying to goad her into ditching again, or sharing the latest gossip in the group chat she hadn’t left yet. Not that Tamlin ever checked it. On Lucien’s last update, he was somewhere in Cambodia or Croatia or somewhere else beginning with a C, still trying to ‘find himself.’ Not like he needed to go that far to do it. Just look in the trash bin and there’s a dozen just like him. 

Part of her—a smug, satisfied part—thinks he left because of what happened between them. Considering the only person he even spoke to anymore was Lucien and even that was via postcard, the evidence stacks up pretty well in her favor. 

Good. Fuck him.

She pulls her phone out but doesn’t check the notification. Doesn’t have a chance to. The telltale whine of old pipes that she’s too familiar with cuts out, and the pitter-patter of bare feet taking the old stairs way too fast sounds after it. She turns on her phone’s flashlight.

“Will you tell us the game now?” Oscar asks, arms full of costume pieces he’ll likely have grown out of by next Halloween. 

Finn does the same, barreling past to jump onto his bed. A breathless “Please!” as he lands in the bed face down. His twin sits beside him, legs folded criss-cross on the comforter.

Feyre takes a second to draw them closer, flipping her phone upside down so the flashlight shines upwards. By the looks on their faces—equal parts enraptured and terrified—it’s clear she has them right where she wants them. 

“Boys.” Wind surges outside, rattling bare branches against the rooftop. It’s not quite lightning, but it’ll do. “We’re going to talk to spirits.”

Oscar’s awe turns to straight up fear. “Spirits? Like… ghosts?” 

“Hey! Ghosts can’t get you if you’re in bed,” Finn chimes in. “Everybody knows that. Mom said so.”

They bicker back and forth about the logistics of whether it has to be your bed specifically or if just any bed will do. Finn concludes that the best place to be during a ghost attack would be a mattress store. Oscar counters with but how are there so many haunted hotels? which only serves to lead them down a different path of how does he know that and who has been sneaking off to watch Most Haunted reruns even though Mom said they shouldn’t. Feyre lets them argue, for the most part, only jumping in when it seems things might come to blows.

“Did I say anything about ghosts?” she says.

Finn shakes his head, but Oscar—oh, poor baby. 

“Anyway,” Feyre continues, “I put some salt on your window when you were getting cleaned up. Totally ghost-proof, I promise.” A lie, obviously, but she’d seen it in a TV show somewhere and, by the way Oscar’s shoulders retreat from beside his ears, it convinces him well enough. “Do you want to play or not?” 

“We want to play! Right, Ozzie?”

“Right.” Although, Oscar seems marginally less convinced.

“If you say so,” Feyre shrugs. She hands her phone to Oscar who, in typical kid fashion, twists it so the light shines under his chin, but jumps at the glare. She grabs his wrist, gently turning until the light faces down at his blue green comforter instead. “It’s super important that you hold this still. That keeps us connected to the spirits.” 

A purple velvet bag, in all its faded filigree beauty, sits between them.

It’s been too long since she’d last done a reading, usually only reaching for them on the off chance she remembered, or if she’d had a particularly bad day. She doesn’t believe in all the witch stuff like Elain used to, the full moons and incense and tea blends made from garden herbs. No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… nice to think that there’s a connection to something bigger out there, even if sometimes it takes a pile of old paper for her to realize it. 

Her skin prickles as she touches the velvet, pulling the worn cards from their home. 

“These—” she starts, spreading the deck between her fingers so the boys can see the pictures. Bright and bold and dark and faded all at once. “—are Tarot cards.” 

“Tarot cards?” Oscar wavers with her phone, light dipping but Finn steadies his brother’s hand before she can chastise him for it. 

She nods. “That’s right, and they’re going to help us ask the spirits a question. The cards are a conduit–uh…a tool, I guess? You ask a question in your head, focus on it really hard and pick the card that calls to you. I have to shuffle them first though, mix them all up.”

“They speak?” Finn asks, as she does her best to shuffle the deck. He’s sat so close to Oscar now, knees touching in the dark like that extra point of contact can offer comfort in a way words cannot. Even like this, they’re inseparable.

“Not with words. You’ll feel it in your heart, or your head, maybe your toes. It’s different for different people.” Feyre keeps her words calm, soothing. It’s not meant to be a spooky exercise. It’s not. God, if they wake up in the middle of the night with bad dreams—no, she keeps it cool, smiling a little as she spreads the cards face down atop the bedspread. An arc before all three of them. “To me, it feels warm. Like the sun.”

Oscar lets the phone droop a second time, and when Feyre looks up to him, his eyes are a little wet. “I don’t think I want to play this game.” 

“Ozzie, please!” Finn pleads, taking his twin's free hand between his own. 

Feyre takes a second, watching as Finn soothes his brother’s hand. It's the type of thing Nesta used to do for Elain, when storms blew out the breakers and left them in the dark, their father nowhere to be seen. Maybe once she yearned for that kind of connection with someone. It had never been there in her sisters—not that she blamed them, anymore—but she found it in her friends. She found it in her part time jobs. She made it her mission to be that person when she could. Her hand dwarfs both boys’ clenched palms. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise. Do you want me to get the lights?” 

Oscar, looking at his brother then back to the faded gilding of the cards, shakes his head. 

“You sure?” she asks.

He nods once. 

“Since you’re being so brave, do you want to take the first card?” Feyre offers.

It’s with a trembling hand that Oscar reaches for the cards, letting his fingers slip free of his brother’s grip. He hovers a palm above them, moving left and right across the deck, pausing in certain spots like he’s considering taking one, but never staying in a place for too long. Like weaving between invisible strands of magic, sensing the cards and their meanings. 

“I want this one,” he says, pulling a card from the dead center of the arc. What remains of the gold around the card’s edges catches in the flashlight. Feyre doesn’t even realize she’s holding her breath until Oscar flips his card over, revealing an upside down King of Swords.

Finn almost knocks his twin over trying to see the design on the front. A king alone, sat atop a throne, holding a giant sword. Well, it wouldn’t be her first choice, but it’s not a bad card. “Feyre, what does it mean?” 

“Oh, you would get the King.” She smiles a little. “That’s very you, Oscar.” 

Oscar, eyes still a little wide in panic, seems to relax a little at that. “Why is he upside down? Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine. He means something different if he’s upside down is all!” Feyre places it in the space between them, separate from the face down cards, trying to rack her brain for a way to phrase its meaning. Manipulation is such a harsh word. Inner truth, perhaps? Hidden strength? “What do you feel when you look at him?”

“He looks… cool.” 

“Yeah, but how does he make you feel?” 

“Like… Like I want to play again! Can I have another turn?” 

Finn, eternally impatient, balks at that. He doesn’t have the same restraint his twin has. He leans over Oscar, swiping the first card his fingers touch, swishing it into the air before Feyre can remind them to be gentle. He doesn’t even let her see what he pulled, squinting at it for a second, before he pouts and lays it face up next to the other card.

“At least yours was someone cool! Mine’s just some building.” 

The Tower. Oh fuck.

“Some building?” Ferye starts, nudging so the cards are aligned. She hadn’t been expecting to see the Tower, not really, but hey! These things happen. Chaos? Pride? That’s kinda Finn’s thing so it makes sense. He commands that kind of energy. “That’s the tower! One of the most powerful cards in the Deck.”

“Really?” Finn’s eyes light up at that, looking again at the card between them. “I guess the lightning storm is kinda cool.” 

“I’ll bet.” She nods. “I’ll ask you the same question, Finn. What do you feel? What does it remind you of?”

“I don’t know. It’s like when dad used to let us smash sand castles after a beach day. What does it mean?”

Feyre hushes him and, thankfully, he sits back in his place, enraptured as she takes the time drawing her fingertips over the facedown cards. “We haven’t got the full story yet. It’s my turn.” 

There isn’t a specific question in her mind; nebulous thoughts of school and work and home and the two boys only minutes away from sleep, parties she hasn’t been to, assignments she hasn’t done—phantom warmth pricks her index finger. Despite her belief in the metaphysical being skeptic at best, she puts trust in that little spike of warmth, pulling out the final card. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

“The Devil?” Oscar shrieks, leaning closer whilst simultaneously cringing back. “I thought you said this game wasn’t scary!”

Finn leans into his brother, trying his best to see the goat-headed figure on her card. “That’s awesome! That’s gotta be the coolest one yet! Why is he furry?”

“Hey, the Devil isn’t as bad as everyone thinks!” How do you even begin to explain the intricacies of obsession, passion and sexuality to kids? That’s way above her pay grade. Not a chance. “He gets a bad rap. Not all bad things are really bad, you know? Like… chores! You hate doing them at the time but once they’re done everything feels better, right?” 

Oscar fixes her with a look, dark hair flopping in front of his eyes. “Feyre, it’s the Devil.”

“To me, this means I have an assignment due tomorrow and I need to knuckle down.” Not a lie, but not a full truth either. She does have an assignment—one she hasn’t even started yet—but seeing The Devil tugs on a different part of herself that's probably best kept under wraps. She likes this job. It would be a shame if she scared the kids too much and never got invited back. “It means I need to focus on a few things.”

“That’s kinda… boring.” Finn says, fighting off a yawn. “Can we talk to the spirits now?” 

“We just did, dummy.”

Oscar, seeing his brother fight the clutch of sleep, fails in his own battle. “That was it? What did they say?” 

“They say it’s bedtime. Now.” Feyre collects the unused cards, slotting in the three they chose throughout the deck. Only once they’re all safely in their little velvet pouch does she raise from the bed, letting Finn crawl beneath the comforter. Oscar follows suit, the allure of sleep near irresistible. She lets them get comfortable, standing by the skylight, looking up at the branch blocking most of the view.

“Do you like it?” Finn asks, sounding so much smaller, already halfway to sleep. “Dad says he’s gonna build us a treehouse next summer. We’re gonna have sleepovers and everything.”

Feyre starts towards the door, slowly waiting for creaks of the old floor to announce her slow departure. “For real? Am I invited?” 

Finn shakes his head, or snuggles down further into his comforter. Oscar peeks over the edge of the top bunk, eyes half shut already. “No girls allowed.” 

“Figures.” She reaches the door, pulling it just enough to slip through. One last look over her shoulder confirms what she already guessed. “Night, boys.” 

She doesn’t get a response.

[ladylynse]

Part 2 of this untitled Doctor Who fic where 10 meets up with Grace Holloway again. Posted for @scaehime, who was interested in more.

-|-

The Doctor jolted awake. He tried to claw the oxygen mask off his face, but a pair of gloved hands held it more firmly in place. “Don’t worry, Mr. Smith,” someone said. “It’s simply a precaution. We—”

But the Doctor wasn’t willing to simply listen. “I’m not signing anything,” he said, albeit with difficulty, and his voice was muffled anyway. “I’m not going to let you do anything. No x-rays, no—”

“Mr. Smith, please remain calm.”

“Calm?” the Doctor repeated, anything but. “Calm? You’re trying to...you…you….” He trailed off. An oxygen mask, he’d thought. But then he’d breathed it, and analyzed it. And it wasn’t just oxygen. At least, not anymore. He had to wonder if he’d even said what he’d meant to say, whether or not it had been heard.

This time he did manage to get the mask off his face. “How long,” he gasped out, “have I been in here?”

“You were brought into emergency three hours ago,” came the steady reply. “You’re stable now. You were in shock. Do you remember what happened?”

“Partially,” the Doctor replied, looking distracted. “Did a Vera Taylor tell you who I was?”

“That’s right. Dr. Taylor has insisted that we treat you as we treated her.” A small laugh. “Like everyone else, in other words. We try to give the best treatment possible. You’re in good hands, Mr. Smith.”

The Doctor thought for a moment, cursing whatever they’d given him. He hated being slow on the uptake. “Did you say,” he finally asked, “that I’ve been here for three hours?” Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “And, oh, three hours is a long time, isn’t it? Lots of lovely tests you could run.” He sat up abruptly, wincing as his movement partially dislodged an IV from his arm. He pulled it out carefully and turned to assess the nurse who was taking care of him. He scrutinized her for a moment, seeing if he could place her face among his blurred recollections of the time he’d woken up on the operating table, but couldn’t. That was a bit of a relief.

“Mr. Smith, I have to ask you to—”

“Sorry,” he interrupted. He squinted at her nametag. “But, Rachel, I’m fine now. I don’t need oxygen, I don’t need an IV, and I don’t need whatever else you were going to give me.” He glanced down. “Though, I wouldn’t mind my clothes, bloodied or not.” He frowned. “That’ll take a bit of mending. Shame. I hate mending. I can take it to Neo-Sydney, I suppose. They’ve expert tailors there. Then again, the prices, and they don’t fancy taking….” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “Still. Better than making do with a costume again.”

“Mr. Smith—”

“Yes, I know, it’s against regulations and all that, but, without them, I can’t show you my ID to—” He stopped, frustrated. “Oh, what’s it matter. I can’t stay. I have more important things to be doing. I shouldn’t even have come in the first place.”

“Mr. Smith, your condition has stabilized for the moment, but I would advise not disregarding the doctor’s recommendations by—”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t be disregarding the Doctor’s recommendations,” the Doctor cut in. “Because I think I know my body a bit better than you, thanks.” He reached for the chart at the foot of the bed.

Rachel smirked at him. “So it’s true. Doctors are the worst patients.”

The Doctor, however, wasn’t paying attention. He flipped from one page to the next and back again, then skipped ahead and frowned. “You’ve scheduled me for an appointment with a cardiac specialist?” he asked slowly.

“Your heartbeat was erratic,” Rachel pointed out. “Even accounting for the shock, the range was worrisome.”

“Speeding up and slowing down,” the Doctor murmured, deciding he’d better not ramble too much in case she decided to have psychiatric check up on him. Twenty-eight beats a minute, then racing to well over a hundred and twenty-eight in an effort to compensate for the fact that his right heart still wasn’t beating. He was lucky he hadn’t slipped into a healing coma. He was liable to find himself locked up in the morgue again if he did.

At the very least, he was lucky they hadn’t cut him open with the intention of putting in a pacemaker or some such nonsense.

“Dr. Taylor was able to pull a few strings,” Rachel informed him, gently pulling the chart away from his hands. “Dr. Holloway will see to you herself.”

“Oh. Right.” The Doctor frowned. He’d managed to walk right into this, hadn’t he? Sure, he’d been debating having a quick conversation with her, and he had landed and set off, but if he was set to meet up with Grace again, this wasn’t what he’d pictured. Him tracking her down, yes, but if he went into the hospital, he wouldn’t have gone in as a patient. At least, not with injuries of this sort. Still, perhaps just bumping into her on the street would’ve been best. But not this. Well, could be worse, he supposed. He wasn’t on the operating table again.

Nearly had been, but wasn’t.

“Clothes?” he prompted, looking up at Rachel again.

“You’ll want someone to bring you a fresh set,” she admitted.

Oh, brilliant. They’d gone and cut them off him, then. He might just be reduced to making off with someone else’s. Again. What would it be now, the third time? There was his third regeneration, and his eighth, and—

“But my coat?” he asked. He didn’t want to lose his coat. He had important things in that coat. Come to that, he had important things in his suit pockets, too. “And, er, you haven’t disposed of my suit yet, have you?”

“Your things are safe, Mr. Smith.” Rachel stood up. “I’ll ask you to wait here while I call Dr. Miller in to speak with you personally.”

“If I going to talk to a doctor,” the Doctor replied, “I would prefer it to be Grace, if that’s possible. Is she free?”

“She didn’t—”

“Brilliant,” the Doctor interrupted. “Thank you. Off you go now, Rachel; time’s a-wasting.” He settled back into bed, waiting for her to leave. She looked startled, but she did as she was told.

The minute she was out the door, the Doctor allowed himself a small moan. Ooh, how humans could stand it with just one heart, he didn’t know. Though, he was lucky they hadn’t tried to give him anything. Probably had something to do with the good Dr. Taylor, that. She’d held up remarkably well, all things considered. She reminded him a bit of Grace. And even a little of Sarah Jane, come to think of it.

But he didn’t have time to think of it. He had to get out of here. They’d taken x-rays. And he wasn’t sure they’d just chalk it up to a double exposure again. He wasn’t even quite sure when he was—something he hated admitting; he had a reputation to uphold, after all—and he didn’t fancy going through anything like 2012 Utah again, to name one of the more recent unpleasant experiences he’d had on Earth. 

Now was not the time to draw attention to himself by trying to start up his right heart.

He slowly made his way down the hallway and a couple flights of stairs, alternately trying doors and dodging into rooms, occupied or otherwise, to avoid anyone who looked overtly official. He wasn’t sure how far he’d get, dressed as he was, but he was willing to give it a shot. And he could always pretend he was lost. It was fair enough, he figured, even if it was, likely as not, going to get him a ticket to psychiatric. Ah, well; he deserved a bit of fun. He hadn’t had as much as he liked lately. The last time he’d gone looking for it, things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.

If hadn’t been for one wise, stubborn human, he would have knowingly destroyed an entire timeline.

Sure, it had reasserted himself, skirting around a few anomalies, but he’d been willing to…. He’d tried to sacrifice.... He’d….

“These are his things?”

“Yes. That’s all we found his pockets. No ID, no money—nothing to support his claims to Dr. Taylor.”

Grace. And someone he didn’t recognize. He’d better get out of here. Quickly. He could nip back and gather his things, then be on his way no worse for the wear. Grace might wonder, but he didn’t recall carrying anything on him now that she would recognize. He’d even had the locks changed; the TARDIS key was different. Though that was more because he couldn’t stand the constant reminder of Gallifrey than anything else. Still. New key, new sonic screwdriver….

New body.

Twice over.

And he had no right to ask. To ask would be to burden her with his problems, because she was the sort of person who would take the burden without being asked and wouldn’t lay it down, no matter what he told her. No matter how much he pleaded with her. And he had no right to do that. She’d built a wonderful life for herself. Moved on, just like she should have. Because she’d recognized—

The Doctor dashed into the nearest room. “Oh, hello,” he greeted cheerfully as a rather frail lady looked up at him. “I seem to have gotten the wrong room. I was looking for a Ms. Jones?” He phrased it as a question, but spent some time looking about the room, wandering deeper into it—and away from the doorway—and making it clear that he didn’t expect an answer. “Terribly sorry,” he added. “I’m the, ah, man from just down the hall. John Smith.” He stuck out his hand, grinning widely.

“Dorothy Mae,” the woman replied finally, taking his hand. “You shouldn’t be up and about, young man. I may not be a doctor, but I’m a mother and a grandmother, and you should be in bed. You’re too pale. Never mind that this is a hospital. I’m here after my hip replacement. You,” she added pointedly, looking him up and down again, “look like you got on the wrong side of a fight.” She didn’t sound particularly approving.

The Doctor tugged on an ear. “Yeah, well,” he said, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Wasn’t intentional. Just trying to help, me. Nothing serious. They’ll be letting me out as soon as they can process the paperwork, I daresay. Need the beds, I think. But my friend—”

“If they’re going to release you when you look like that,” Dorothy Mae interrupted, “then I will be speaking with my doctor about the sort of care they’re giving here.”

The Doctor began to think that perhaps engaging the woman in conversation had not been his best idea. He pasted a smile on his face. “Oh, well, no, it’s not the care. I’m checking out. Against their recommendations, admittedly. But, really, it’s just a form or two to sign, and—”

“You,” declared the outspoken, if well-intentioned, Dorothy Mae, “ought to be ashamed of yourself. You’re liable to get yourself killed if you don’t smarten up.”

She looked like she could have berated him for longer, but the Doctor hastily began extracting himself from the conversation. “Yes, true enough; I will reconsider, I suppose, but I ought to go and tell them that, so I’ll just leave you be, won’t I?” He grinned at her and made his escape.

He bumped into someone and tried to continue on his way, but whoever it was caught his arm. “Mr. Smith,” drawled a man’s voice, “I believe you were assigned to room 403?”

“Dr. Miller, I presume?” the Doctor asked, trying not to look guilty. If he’d waited just one more minute.... “Yes. And may I ask why you are a full two floors from your assigned room?” Over Dr. Miller’s shoulder, the Doctor had watched Grace’s face fall. Perhaps she had thought to connect the dots. He didn’t recall telling her that regeneration worked more than once. Granted, he hadn’t exactly had time to explain anything. Common theme in his life, that.

“Oh, well,” he said slowly. “Fancied a bit of a jaunt, that’s all. Looking to see if I could get a cup of tea, to be honest.” Well, partially honest. He wouldn’t mind a cup of tea now. He needed something to clear his head. “And, I was wondering about my things. Could I have them back? Even the suit? I know an excellent tailor.”

“We can discuss this at a later time, once we have you back in your room.” Dr. Miller steered him towards the lift.

“I’ll join you when he’s settled,” Grace said shakily. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder to get a better look at her. She hadn’t changed, really. So perhaps it wasn’t that long after all. Blimey, it better not be before the millennium. He’d be in a spot then. But surely….

The Doctor accepted his scolding meekly, knowing that if he had any chance of getting out of here, it would be better to throw them off guard. And, sometimes, if you played your cards right, and you acted like you really needed something, they’d give it to you. Like shoes. Shoes would be an excellent thing right now. You can only make it so far without shoes. All right, last time he’d made it over to Grace’s house without shoes, but he’d needed the toe tag on as proof, hadn’t he?

The Doctor did his best to ensure that his conversation with Dr. Miller was short. Grace entered shortly after Dr. Miller had finished his scolding—well, chiding, more like, as if he were a child. But when she came in, holding his coat—and it would take a bit to get those stains out—and a small paper bag, presumably his other things, he almost didn’t want Dr. Miller to leave. He regretted being so apologetic and compliant. He might’ve bought more time if he hadn’t been.

Because, really…. He didn’t want to face her.

He shouldn’t have come.

“John Smith?” she asked softly, depositing his things at the foot of the bed and settling down on the chair by its head. He saw the sleeve of his suit jacket poking out from the bundle that was his coat. Excellent; she’d gotten that, too.

Still, he had to answer her question. He hesitated, and nodded once, sharply and definitively.

“Where are you from?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

“Nottingham,” he answered. “Brilliant place. You ought to visit it sometime.”

“And may I ask why you wanted to speak with me, and why you told Dr. Vera Taylor that I knew you?”

“Oh, well, I just….” The Doctor trailed off. Grace was smart, and lying wasn’t his forte in this regeneration. “It’s been a long while, that’s all. I knew you wouldn’t recognize me.”

She was thinking it. He could tell by the expression on her face. Blinking abruptly, she reached for his chart, scanning it. He watched her shoulders fall. “They want to keep you for monitoring,” she noted. “You’ve a bad heart.”

“It’s just overworked,” the Doctor said bluntly. “Temporary. A victim of circumstances, if you will.”

“X-rays inconclusive?” Grace repeated, looking up from the chart. “You’re due for another round, to make sure you didn’t crack a rib. First round was faulty.”

The Doctor was silent for a moment. “Grace,” he said, slowly, deliberately, “may I have my things?” He held out his hand. “Just the bag for now, if you will.”

“I’d prefer Dr. Holloway at the moment, Mr. Smith.”

“Doctor,” the Doctor corrected.

Grace smiled slightly. “Oh, yes,” she amended. “I do recall Vera mentioning that. Dr. Smith, then.”

“Doctor,” the Doctor repeated, watching her hand falter as she reached for the bag.

She turned back to look at him. “I’m afraid, Dr. Smith, that I do not take to calling anyone simply by their profession. Particularly those from Nottingham.” She passed the paper bag to him.

The Doctor took it and smiled. “Well, it’s a bit more than a profession.” He overturned the bag to see what he could find. They hadn’t found much. Sonic screwdriver, TARDIS key, wallet of currently blank psychic paper—pity, that; might be a bit harder to fool them, if they recognized the covering—and his spectacles. Just some surface things, nothing from too deep in his pockets.

And nothing Grace would recognize.

Though, he had to decide, now, whether or not he was going to go through with it. He’d meant to. But then, he thought maybe it would be best if he didn’t. Because the only reasons he’d meant to have any conversation at all with her were selfish reasons. He wanted to know what she’d seen, and how she’d recognized it—how she’d seen what he, and so many others, couldn’t.

A friend had once told him that if you could choose who lives and who dies, you would be a monster. And he’d agreed whole-heartedly at the time. It wasn’t even that long ago. How could he have forgotten that conversation? How could he have turned his back on that so utterly? How could he have disregarded everything and gone and done it anyhow?

He’d needed to be taken down a few pegs.

It hadn’t taken much.

But it was too much all the same.

One life had had to be ended to keep history on track.

And he hadn’t been the one to realize that.

He’d been the one to ignore it.

And then he’d been shown how important it all was, and how foolish and arrogant he’d been, and how wrong he’d been, to stray from that, even once. He’d seen what he’d become.

A monster.

“Dr. Smith? Are you all right?”

The Doctor blinked. Grace repeated her question, moving closer to check on him.

No. He couldn’t just leave. He’d come here, and the TARDIS had made sure he’d come this far, sneaky as she was. He wanted to run from this, like he’d run from everything else. But he couldn’t keep everything inside him forever, keeping silent. He had to tell some things to someone.

Someone who would listen.

Someone who might help him to understand.

Someone he’d touched but not destroyed.

“I’m always all right,” the Doctor croaked, pulling away from Grace. He reached instead for his coat, digging in the pockets. He had some in here, he was sure of it. He’d gotten them the same time he’d picked up that chocolate egg at Easter, since he hadn’t had any for years and he had had a bit of a liking for them. They wouldn’t be too old; a couple of months, that’s all.

“Dr. Smith, you should just relax. Your heart—”

Right. Dr. Miller had insisted on hooking him up to that again. Bother it all. “Is compensating,” the Doctor cut in. “That’s all. Temporary, like I said.”

“You’re not well.”

No, he wasn’t. But he was on the mend, now—if he could just stop running, just for a moment, long enough to have a conversation.

“Grace—”

“Dr. Holloway.”

“Grace,” the Doctor repeated, very deliberately, as his hand closed upon a small paper bag of candy. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and offered it to her. “Jelly baby?”

She looked at him uncertainly. “I was informed that they’d gone through your pockets.”

The Doctor shrugged. “They didn’t know what they were looking for. Would you like a jelly baby?”

Grace’s expression hardened. “Stop it,” she hissed.

The Doctor was taken aback. “What?” he asked, blinking at her. He hadn’t meant to actually offend her. Yet that was how she was acting.

“Who put you up to this?” she continued angrily. “I’m not having it, you hear? I’ve had enough with people laughing at me. I’m not telling that story anymore.”

Oh.

He hadn’t expected that.

Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure what he had expected.

He hadn’t thought about it all too much.

“What year is it?” he asked slowly.

Wrong question, it seemed, with what she thought of him now. “I’ll thank you not to persist in telling tales in an attempt to speak to me again,” she said sharply, rising to her feet. “Good day, Mr. Smith.”

“Doctor,” he corrected again.

She glared at him. “Dr. Smith, then. Good day.”

“I’d missed you, Grace,” he said truthfully. “But I’d still thought that I was doing the right thing by not coming back. After you’d made your choice, I mean.”

It wasn’t enough to catch her attention, and she started out the room, ignoring him.

And, well, now that he’d made the decision to talk to her, he wanted to talk to her.

So he made sure that he did catch her attention. “The Master survived, you know. Getting sucked into the Eye. But she’s closed now. Room’s locked, good and tight. Even I can’t get into it. Don’t think I will, unless circumstances change.”

She turned back at the doorway to look at him. “How long?” she asked, her voice still cold.

“Pardon?”

“How long have you spent listening to my stories, gathering every bit of information from every story I’ve ever told the children in the recovery ward? And why do you insist on patronizing me?”

She was defensive. Hurt.

Because of him.

Because she’d believed in him and had told her story.

He’d still managed to….

“I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely contrite. “I am so, so sorry, Grace. I didn’t know.”

“Dr. Holloway,” she corrected, but her voice had softened slightly.

And then she was gone.

(Part 3)

[love-and-monsters]

Feathered Dragon Partner

Nonbinary feathered dragon X gn reader, 11382 words

So I finished this and I did not proofread it and now I’m posting it so. I hope it scans. Let me know what you guys think. Might be kind of quiet on here for a while bc I’m trying to actually write my own novel, so. We’ll see how that goes. Anyway, enjoy. 

A chance encounter at the market, a free sample, and an unfortunate injury. What do they all have in common? Why, a certain feathery, scaly friend who is quite interested in you!

Content warning for minor injury and mention of medical malpractice causing physical harm. 

The Avieras Festival was in full swing, and you were ducking, dodging, and weaving your way through the patrons that packed the street so thickly it was near-impossible to find space. Most of them were in elaborate costumes, which only made navigating tricker. Some wouldn’t care if you trod on a hem or feather as you hurried by, but others would care. And they usually cared enough to spend ten minutes lecturing you on exactly how expensive the fabric you’d just ruined with your bootprint was. And sometimes they even cared enough to stick you with a dry cleaning bill, which was really the last thing you needed. So, you avoided stepping on people in general.

Festival days were good business days, generally, but you needed to find the right location to set up. Too much in the thick of it and you’d risk your wares getting knocked over by overeager or drunk patrons. Too far out and no one would be interested.

You located, after a few minutes of searching, an alcove that offered enough shade to be comfortable, and enough light to draw in patrons. As soon as you reached the spot, you snapped open your charmed bag and pulled out a sturdy roll of carpet, which you set on the ground in front of you, and your wares.

A table would have been better to show them off, since putting them so close to the ground risked them getting dirty, but even a collapsed folding table would have been hard to fit through the opening of your bag, so you let it be. The carpet sufficed, and you had two thin racks to display your best work upon. They would be sufficient to draw customer attention.

This part was the worst part. You enjoyed the crafting and the creating and not so much the selling. But, well. It was part of the job. So, you slapped the best smile you could on your face and started waving enthusiastically to the crowd. Every now and then, you’d see someone pause as their eyes snag on one of your creations and you called out to them. “Hello, ma’am! Yes, this mask will go wonderfully with your costume, see the lovely yellow, and the purple accents will bring out the richness of the color! Oh, and I have a hairpiece that goes perfectly if you’d like to bundle them together-”

You’re not bad at selling, but it does feel a lot like you’re putting up an act. It’s not like you’re not proud of your work- you wouldn’t sell your festival masks and accessories if you weren’t pleased with how they came out. But the energy required to act cheery and polite and overly-enthusiastic was ridiculously draining. By a couple of hours in, your stock was over half-gone, and you were utterly grateful. Perhaps you would sell out early and you could grab some delicious fried food and scuttle away to your home before the night got too wild.

“Well, aren’t these just delightful,” someone mused from entirely too close to you, and it took all your customer service skills to smile cheerfully instead of screaming and leaping out of your skin.

The prospective customer was leaning over your stand, gazing at your wares with clear interest. You recognized them, if only dimly. They worked as a butcher, and you’d seen them several times when you picked up food from the store. However, they’d always had their hair up and their feathers tucked away when they worked. Now, they were letting their hair hang free down their back, almost to their waist. Their skin was oddly colored, almost milky, with scales along the backs of their limbs. Plumes of feathers decorated their ears and their scaled tail. AS they shifted their weight, one of their hands resting on their generous hips, their skin caught the light and glowed in opalescence. The scales on their forehead had been picked out with some silvery makeup, making them stand out even more.

You picked your jaw off the floor and slapped your customer service hat back on. “Ah, thank you very much! You already seem fairly well-feathered, but perhaps I could offer you a small hairpin? I have some that aren’t quite so ornate if you’re looking for something lower key.”

As they leaned forward to examine your wares, you swept a critical eye over them. It was sort of a fun guessing game you tried to play with yourself, to figure out exactly what species each customer was. Most of the time, you didn’t get an answer, since it was pretty rude to ask someone casually what they were, but it was still fun. The oddest one had been a combination between a merfolk and a dragon, which had resulted in something like a human upper half, albeit completely covered in scales, and a sea-serpent tail. They’d also been a remarkably good customer, though they’d tried haggling for a better price.

This person… well, the scales suggested a dragon, but feathered dragons were rare, and even more rarely did they assume a humanoid form. Not to mention they had wings. Perhaps some sort of hybrid, then? Or maybe a harpy and dragon hybrid? You’d never seen one, though it did seem like this one should be more feathered if it really was a combination.

They cleared their throat and you hurried to focus your mind on their purchase. You could speculate after they were done. “See anything you like?”

“I believe so,” they said, their eyes flicking up to meet yours. “But I…” They hesitate, their tail curling. The feathered tufts of their ears twitch. “I…”

“Can’t decide?” you asked. It was always sort of flattering when customers felt that way- nice to know you’d been able to catch their eye with multiple pieces. Perhaps a better salesperson would have convinced them to buy both, but you figured if they wanted both, they would have bought them in the first place. You were happy to sell even one piece. “I can help you decide. Which ones do you like?”

The customer hesitated, then selected two ornamented hair clips- a pale pink and a deep sea-green. Both of them matched shades that appeared in their feathers and along their glimmering scales. Either would have been a good choice. You picked them up and held them out consideringly.

“Here, let’s see…” You held both clips up, one on either side of their face, and directed them to look into the mirror. “The pink one is a bit simpler than the green one- less feathers and jewels, see? You’ve got feathers on you already, so I don’t think you need the excess feathers, unless you’re going for an over-the-top look.” You glance over them with a critical eye. “However, the pink also blends in with your outfit a little more, so if you want it to stand out, the green might work better. Are you thinking of wearing this for daily use or just when you’re getting dressed up for a festival or party?”

“I suppose daily,” they said, tilting their head from side to side. Their eyes, bright yellow as topaz, glitter in the sunlight.

“Then the pink might be a little more lowkey,” you declared. “But it’s all up to you, of course.”

They hesitated for a moment longer, considering. “The pink, then,” they said.

“Wonderful,” you said, placing the green clip down on the table. “Would you like me to wrap this or would you like to wear it right away?”

“Right away,” they said.

“Sure! Makes sense that you’d want to wear it for the festival,” you said. “Now, your total is fifteen shen.”

They reached into their pocket to pull out their wallet and passed you a few coins. You tucked them smoothly away. “I can put it in your hair for you, if you’d like,” you added. They stared at you, yellow eyes going wide. “Only if you’d like! Some people just have a difficult time getting the clip into their hair on their own- but you can also just borrow a mirror if you would like.”

“No, I would appreciate the help,” they said. You gestured for them to turn and they did so, crouching down to allow you to reach. They were tall, so that was another suggestion they were related to a dragon. Then again, you had some gnomish blood, so most everyone was taller than you.

You gathered the silky strands of their hair into your hand and settled the clip in place. They twitched a little under your touch and their tail shuddered when you took an extra moment to stroke a few strands of hair back into place.

“There. Does it look all right to you?” you asked, offering them a mirror that was angled so they could see the back of their head. They nodded and brushed off their front as they stood.

“Thank you for the help,” they said. “And your work is quite lovely. I hope you’re finding success here.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you said. “Ah, here, take this as well!” You reached down and grabbed a small, though still pretty, tail cuff. It was designed to clip into place, with an adjustable band to keep it from slipping down the tail. You pressed it into their hands.

The feathers on their tail and ears fluffed up in surprise. “Oh- but I didn’t pay for-”

“The Avieras Festival is for celebrating feathered creatures,” you said, pressing the tail cuff on them more insistently. “Think of it as a party favor. And you’ve been quite sweet, I think you deserve it.”

Their eyes went wide and they took the tail cuff like it was a holy artifact. “Thank you,” they said. They smiled, showing off their pearly white canines. “You really are a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

With that, they reached out, affectionately patted my cheek, then headed off into the crowd. You blinked after them. You had been pretty sure you were flustering them for a moment there, so it was a bit strange to have the entire thing turned around on you. Fortunately, another customer arrived in a moment and you could launch straight back into your customer service mode.

The pace of sales picked up throughout the night. You sold out quicker than you’d anticipated, with plenty of time to enjoy the festival. You packed away your belongings in your bag and headed out to explore.

It was late evening as you headed out into the main section of the festival. The town center was full of people dressed in feathered outfits. The Avieras Festival was a celebration of avians- typically, that meant people with some kind of bird relation, like harpies, but it technically included all kinds of feathered creatures. That meant that everyone was dressed in feathers. Some people had more elaborate outfits than others, with multicolored feathers and even bird masks, but most people were just wearing feather accessories. Harpies and other flying creatures soared through the sky in an impressive array of aerial dancing. Music floated through the air with them, bright and lively.

Exploring the festival involved you getting as much unique food as you could and shoving it all in your mouth while you examined the items for sale. There were several games set up along the streets. One of them was a modified version of flight chicken, where two contestants were suspended by magic and then dropped toward the (magically cushioned) ground. The goal was to pin your opponent underneath you before you hit the ground. While most people participating seemed pretty poor at it, the matches that involved experienced partners were fascinating. There were a couple other games that were usually played in the air that had been modified so everyone could enjoy them, plus some other games that could by played just as easily by people on the ground. You tried a couple of rounds of a game like ring toss, which involved getting a wooden circle to land around a peg from several feet up, and won a tiny, simple wooden bird. You probably could have bought it for less than you’d paid to play the game, but willing it made the experience better.

After playing a few more games, you wandered over to the art installation that covered the far side of the festival. It was meant to cover the multiple traditional forms of art from different harpy flocks, from fashion to paintings, and there were even a few sphinx artifacts. A large platform toward the middle of the installation held a rotating cast of musicians and dancers. You paused to watch a group of harpies weave in and around each other, smoothly moving from dancing on the ground to in the air. A sphinx passed by, flexing her wings in time to the music. You even caught sight of what was probably an aasimar, gold-skinned and faintly glowing, examining a flight cape.

By the time you finished the art exhibit, it was getting late. Several of the games and activities made for children had packed up, and the party had shifted to more of a late-night-club vibe. Pulsing lights lined the buildings, casting a multicolored glow across the scene. It was pretty, and you did consider staying for a bit longer, but you were already exhausted from selling and walking around. As a large portion of the townspeople headed out to continue the party, you headed back to your home.

The streets got clearer the further you headed away from the festivities, though there were still pockets of people. Some of them were rather drunk. Just as you turned a corner, a group of stumbling drunks bowled into you, practically trampling you as you fell to the ground.

“Hey!” you protested, but your voice wasn’t that loud thanks to your surprise. Two of them, the taller two of the bunch, barely seemed to notice you. The third one turned and gave you an apologetic wave before being dragged off.

You cursed to yourself as you got up. Parties always brought out the asshole drunks- admittedly, you were on the small side (curse that gnomish blood) and the lighting wasn’t good here, so it was possible that they hadn’t seen you. But they still could have at least paused when they hit you!

“Oh dear,” someone murmured, and you heard rapidly approaching footsteps. Someone crouched and a slender, pale hand entered your field of vision. “Are you all right? Can you get up?”

“I’m fine,” you groused, taking their hand so they could tug you up. “Not hurt or anything- ow.” You put weight on your left leg and it throbbed. Probably not broken or even sprained, but there was going to be a very nasty bruise in the morning.

“I beg to differ,” your helper said, and you finally looked at them properly. To your surprise, you knew who they were. Their hair clip and tail clip were still secured neatly in place, right where they’d been place when they’d bought them. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” You lifted one of your hands to brush the dirt off your shirt and paused when you saw the oozing scratches along your palms. There were little bits of grit in the cuts. You winced. “Ow. Damn.”

“You should get those cleaned out,” they said. “Here, there’s a water pump nearby.” They took you gently by your wrist and led you a few feet away to a public water pump. They withdrew a pack of tissues from their side pouch and wet them before turning back to you. “Let me see your hands.”

You extended your hands out, palms up. They gave you a grateful smile and started swiping the wet tissues over the cuts.

It stung, of course, and you sucked in a sharp breath. They crooned in their throat, a gentle shushing noise. “I know it hurts, I just need to get all that gunk out.” Their thumb traced your wrist, stroking over the pulse point. You swallowed.

They took a few moments to clean it out, then paused, tilting your hand back and forth to make sure the dirt is gone. “There we are,” they murmured. “I don’t have any bandages on me, I’m afraid.”

“It’s really not necessary,” you said. “They’re just small scratches. See, they’re hardly even bleeding anymore.” You held your hand out- the cuts were still red, but no longer bleeding. They looked them over carefully, their tail swaying slightly as they focused.

“And nothing else hurts?” they asked. “You’re feeling okay otherwise?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m fine. It’s not a problem.”

They nodded, then looked around you to glare in the direction the tramplers had gone. “Hmph. Shame that festivals can bring out the worst in people. They didn’t even bother to stop.”

“No, but I’m fine, really,” you said.

They flicked their tail with a ruffle of feathers. “Yes, but you if you haven’t been…” They shook their head. “Ah, well. I suppose we should just be grateful it wasn’t worse.” They slipped their hand under your chin with a feather-light touch and tilted your head back and forth. “And at least there’s no damage to your cute face, hm?”

A warm flush rolled over your entire body. Their tone was lightly teasing, but still quite sweet, and it wasn’t like you were used to receiving flirtation like that. You stepped back, pulling your chin from their grasp in embarrassment. “I- uh. Th- thank you.”

They hummed pleasantly. “Of course. No problem.” They gave you another look over, their brows furrowing. “Ah… would you mind if I walked you home? I don’t mean to be pushy, but I do want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” you said, taking a step forward. One of your ankles throbbed, but it held your weight.

They looked unconvinced. “You’re favoring your left ankle. Are you certain you’re all right?”

“Probably,” you said. “It hurts, but my home’s only a couple of blocks from here. I can manage.”

They frowned. Their tail swayed back and forth. “At least let me walk with you? I just don’t want you collapsing as soon as you’re out of sight. It will give me some comfort.”

“If you insist,” you said, offering them a weak smile. They seemed genuinely worried about you, and in all honestly, you weren’t totally sure how well you could walk anyway.

They stayed by your side as you headed toward your house. A couple of times, they needed to reach out and steady you when you forgot your ankle was bad and put your weight on it. The insistent throbbing pain got worse every few steps, and by the time you were within a few feet of your home, you were practically dragging your leg behind you. Your eyes watered with the pain.

Your companion put a hand to your shoulder, encouraging you to lean against them. “Are you certain you shouldn’t see a healer?” they asked. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”

“If it still feels bad tomorrow, I’ll see a healer. Right now, I just need to put it on ice and elevate it,” you said.

“If you’re sure,” they said. They paused, still looking at you with obvious worry, then their expression brightened. “Ah, let me give you this.” They rummaged in their pocket for a moment, then pulled out a small, shimmering disc. They took one of your hands in their own, turning it so your palm was facing upright, then pressed the small disc into your palm. Their hands completely covered yours. You could feel the disc against your palm, thin but surprisingly sturdy.

“What is it?” you asked as they withdraw their hands. You lifted the disc closer to your face to examine it. It was thin, strong, and pale colored. When you turned it in your hands, a pale stream of light illuminated it, turning it opalescent. Exactly like-

“It’s one of my scales,” they say. “If your ankle is worse tomorrow, you can just say my name to it and I’ll come to help you out.”

You blinked. “Really? But- are you sure?” Scales were strange things to give away. For the magically inclined, scales could be made to always be connected to their body, even when physically separated. If you said your name to the scale, they would know you were calling for them, no matter how far away you were.

They winked, golden eyes gleaming. “Say Tazriel, and I’ll come. I like making sure good people are well taken care of.” With no further explanation, they strolled off into the night. Their pale scales made them stand out against the gloom for a while before they finally faded into shadows.

You tucked the scale close to your chest as you hobbled the rest of the way home. It wasn’t far, and after resting for a few moments, you felt better. Though when you had to rummage through your freezer get the ice out, then stack your pillows to elevate your leg, then get comfortably settled in you seat only to realize you had to pee- well, maybe it would have been better to have a little help.

You fell asleep after some time of fitfully turning and shifting in your position. It was hard to find a comfortable sleeping spot with your ankle elevated. And apparently your sleeping body had no consideration for your health, because when you woke up, your ankle was no longer elevated, but twisted haphazardly under you. When you flexed it to get an idea of how fucked you were, pain rolled up your ankle and punched you in the gut. Okay. Pretty fucked.

It took a few tries to actually stand and hobble your way into the bathroom to really assess things. Your ankle was swollen and bruised and it hurt to put weight on it. Bad. You couldn’t assess whether or not it was broken, but it was sprained at a minimum. God dammit. You’d really wanted to avoid seeing a doctor. Maybe you could just give it time? If it healed on its own, everything would be fine, right? And if it didn’t get any better, then you could see a doctor. There was no reason to go to all the trouble when you hadn’t even given it a chance to heal. Right?

Part of you was aware that you were in denial and grasping at straws. A larger part of you was willing to accept anything that meant no doctor’s visit. So you hobbled your way back to bed, with a pit stop in the kitchen to stock up on food, and flopped back down, fully intending to stay in that spot all day.

As you did so, you saw something gleaming on the covers next to you. You scooped it up and- oh, right. The scale.

You rolled the little thing over in your fingers, enjoying how the light played off of its surface. It would be gorgeous to use on one of your projects- though they’d also probably be hard to get. Most people didn’t make a habit of handing out their scales, and even if you managed to find a seller, the quantity would be pretty small. Couldn’t be yanking out every one of your scales to sell, of course.

You rotated it in your hands, recalling their words from the night before. Say Tazriel and I’ll come. Interesting. That was a little unusual. People, as you’d already said, didn’t tend to go handing out their scales. On the other hand, they had seemed genuinely kindhearted and concerned, and you’d never heard a bad word about them. Though, to be fair, most of the words you heard about them tended to focus on how pretty they were. But still, people in this town were gossips, so if anyone had a problem with them, you were sure you’d have heard of it. But you’d also never heard of them handing out their scales like candy to anybody else. Bit of a mystery there.

After a few more moments of looking at the scale and considering, you turned and set it carefully on the table next to your bed. The offer was kind, but you were reluctant to drag anyone else into your mess. Maybe if it wasn’t feeling any better the next day, you would call them and ask for their help to get to the doctor.

You spent another boring day in bed, reading a couple of books and flipping through random videos on the scrynet. It was mind-numbing, and your hands were twitching by the end of it, but you didn’t really want to get out of bed. Eventually, you fell into a fitful, unrestful sleep.

When you woke, the pain in your ankle seemed to have dulled. Cocksure and overconfident, you swung out of bed, placed your feet on the floor, and collapsed when your bad ankle rolled under you and sent waves of pain up your leg.

Well. Crap. Had it somehow gotten worse overnight? How was that even possible? You blinked back the sting of tears from your eyes and twisted to look at it. Bruises still mottled the skin around the ankle, and it was definitely still swollen, though it wasn’t quite as bad as it had been the day before. You probed the skin with the tips of your fingers and hissed. Pain. Bad enough to make your stomach tighten. Once you were actually braced for the pain, you could put some weight on it, though it wasn’t fun.

Son of a bitch. You’d really been hoping it would get better. You considered your options as you limped to the kitchen to get something to eat. It wasn’t so bad to put weight on, you reasoned. It was painful, sure, but a little pain wasn’t so bad. You could handle it.

You sat down and examined your ankle once more. Like, okay. It was probably bad, and you should probably go to a doctor. But it wasn’t like you couldn’t walk at all. That would be the point where it got bad, right? If you couldn’t walk at all. You could still keep off it for a while, for the most part, and then it would heal up. Why go to the doctor if they were just going to tell you to rest your ankle, which is what you were already doing?

(Again, there was that part of you that recognized you were just making excuses and that you really should just go to a doctor. But the bigger part of you still wanted to avoid going, and that bigger part was winning out.)

You ate and dragged yourself back to your room, collapsing onto your bed. Okay. Another day in bed. That wasn’t so bad. And you could probably try to work at least a little. You sat down for most of it. That wouldn’t bother your ankle too much, right?

Just as you were making the firm decision that you were probably fine to work, a gleam of light on your night table caught your eye.

You shuffled a little closer and reached out. As your fingertips met the light, you felt something small and disc-like. The scale. You curled your fingers around it and brought it up to your face.

It was definitely glowing. The entire thing shone like it was reflecting a strong beam of sunlight. You squinted at it, rotating it back and forth. Weird. Did scales do that often? Did it mean something? You’d barely gotten any instructions on how it worked. Maybe you could do some scrying later, see if you could find anything on scales. Though you still weren’t completely sure of their species, which might make it harder. They were probably a feathered dragon, right? Harpies didn’t really have scales like this.

The scale gleamed, sending a beam of light directly into your eyes. You winced. Was it getting brighter? How were you supposed to make it stop? You ran your thumb over it a few times, hoping to maybe trigger something, but nothing happened. You grimaced. Whatever. You could figure it out later.

As you grabbed a couple books to stash the scale under, so that maybe it wouldn’t burn your eyes out while you were trying to sleep, your mind wandered back to what they’d said. Call their name… “Tazriel,” you muttered absently as you placed the books on top of the scale. That was how they’d said it, right? It was a pretty name. You still felt a little awkward about calling them, but maybe you could stop by once your ankle was feeling better and let them know you appreciated the gesture. Yeah, that seemed the best way to handle things.

The decision firm in your mind, you settled back into bed and tried to ignore your ankle so you could fall back asleep.

You were just about to fall back asleep when the sound of someone knocking on your front door made you open your eyes. It was a polite knock, not like someone was banging down your door for an emergency. Maybe it was a delivery driver. They’d leave the package eventually.

You closed your eyes again. Only to open them again when the knock sounded once more. It was a little more urgent this time, though still not what you would consider an emergency knock. You considered getting up, but if it was a visitor, they would eventually figure out you weren’t home or something. It was fine.

The silence lasted a little longer this time, so you were settled back comfortably by the time the knock sounded again. This time, it was distinctly louder and rushed. You gritted your teeth. Okay. This person was not taking a hint, which either meant they were really obtuse or they had something important for you. But getting to the door meant getting out of bed and you were awfully reluctant to do that. The silence stretched on as you debated the finer points of getting out of bed versus staying nice and comfy.

After a couple minutes of silence, you realized the person at your door hadn’t knocked again. They’d wandered off, presumably. That was good. You could just lie back and relax and they would come back later if they needed anything else.

And then you heard the click and creak of the doorknob turning and your door- your FRONT DOOR- opening.

The indignation was enough to get you out of bed. Common sense stopped you from getting further than the hallway. You had a busted ankle- what were you going to do against a (possibly armed) thief? At best, maybe you could look so pathetic, they’d feel bad and leave.

Then your name, called in a semi-frantic voice, floated down the hall. That was surprising. Why would someone who broke into your house be calling for you? You hobbled a few steps out into the main entranceway of your house and stopped in surprise.

You knew both of the people standing in front of your open door, one more familiar than the other. The more familiar figure was your neighbor, a twitchy, if also kindly, water elemental. The less familiar figure was your savior from the other night, Tazriel. Their face lit up at the sight of you. “You’re all right?”

You shifted your weight onto your good leg and positioned your bad ankle so the swelling was not as noticeable. “I’m fine. What are you doing in my house?”

Tazriel blanched. It was hard for scaled creatures to blush, but they seemed to be trying their level best. “You called me.”

You blinked. “I did?” Almost as soon as the words had left your mouth, you remembered sliding the scale away and mumbling ‘Tazriel’ a moment before your fingers actually broke contact. Oops. “Oh. I did.”

Tazriel seemed to be regaining their confidence. “I was worried, of course, so I came by, but you didn’t answer your door. Fortunately, your neighbor did, and she said she had a key, so…” They trailed off, looking toward your neighbor. You stare at her too. She awkwardly rubs one of her arms.

“They seemed really worried, and you did tell me to use your key in emergencies,” she mumbled. She cast a shy glance sideways at Tazriel and you did not roll your eyes, but it was a near thing. Okay, they were pretty good looking, but you weren’t pleased that your neighbor was such a sucker for a pretty face that she would let them into your house.

“They’re quite kind,” Tazriel said, smiling at your neighbor, and she practically turned into steam. “They were worried about you too, once I told them what was going on.”

“Right,” you said. “So what’s going on?”

Tazriel blinked at you like it should be obvious. “You called for me and then didn’t answer the door. I thought you were really hurt.”

Oh. Actually, that wasn’t a strange conclusion to come to. “W-well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m, uh. Actually doing fine. It was sort of an accident that I called you. I’m sorry for disturbing you. But you don’t need to stay.”

They gave you a critical look, gaze roving over your body and fixing on your ankle. You shuffled it further behind your good leg to avoid their look, but this seemed to backfire. Their gaze grew more concerned. “You’re not putting any weight on your ankle.”

“I am,” you said, and gingerly placed your bad ankle on the ground. You leaned on it until your eyes were watering with pain and hoped they weren’t paying too much attention. “I’m fine. You can go back to your life.”

They narrowed their eyes, but didn’t say anything. For a moment, you were certain they were actually going to take your advice and leave, but then your neighbor piped in with, “You’ve been holding yourself all stiff since we got here. You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?”

You shot her a glare as Tazriel gave you a new, more appraising look. “You are tense.” Their expression grew alarmed. “You shouldn’t be standing, should you?”

“I really have to assure you that I’m fine,” you said, but Tazriel and your neighbor were already dismissing your protests out of hand.

“Last time you told me you were fine, you had such bad food poisoning you could barely keep anything down,” your neighbor said. Tazriel brushed past the both of you and into the kitchen to fetch a chair. “I didn’t find out until two days later when I ran into you at the store looking like death warmed over.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you muttered. “And what were you going to do about it? It was food poisoning. You just have to wait it out.”

“You could have asked me to check on you. I would have done it. Or you could have asked me to take you to a doctor.”

You grimaced. Tazriel set a chair down next to you and gestured for you to sit in it. Once you were down, they crouched and peered at your ankle. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” they asked. “This looks bad.”

“It looks worse than it is,” you said hurriedly. “I really don’t need all this fuss. I’m just going to stay home until it feels better.”

Tazriel looked up. “You’re not going to see a doctor?”

“I don’t need one,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“You do,” Tazriel insisted. They probed at your ankle with their fingertips and you nearly jumped out of your skin. “You can’t walk on this. And it must hurt a lot.” They looked up at you and you were surprised by exactly how much concern was evident in their eyes. Their feathered ears twitched. It was ridiculous how cute it was.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you said, but their gaze was really hard to resist. “I just… I don’t want to go to the doctor.” Before they could comment on that, you braced a hand against the nearby wall and used the leverage to haul yourself to your feet. Well. To one of your feet. The other was still being held by Tazriel. “And they’ll just tell me to ice and rest it, which is what I’m already doing! Thank you all very much for your concern, but I think I’ll be heading back to doing that, so unless there’s anything else I can help you with…” You gave a pointed look to Tazriel. They were still holding your foot. They did not let go.

“You need a doctor,” they said, enunciating every word carefully, like you were a child or hard of hearing. “Your ankle could be broken.”

Your shoulders drooped a bit. “You don’t think it’s that bad, do you?”            “I don’t know,” Tazriel said. “I can’t say. Because I’m not a doctor. Which is why you need one.” They folded their feathered ears back against their head and fixed you with their brilliantly golden eyes. It wasn’t quite a puppy-dog look, though it was pleading. Come now, their expression seemed to say. I want you to be all right. Won’t you let me help you? Their thumb was also tracing circles on your calf, which was making it surprisingly hard to focus.

“It’s… I just…” Your protests died on your tongue. They were just looking at you, but it was making your head feel sort of funny. Were they using their prettiness to hypnotize you? Was that what this was? Weaponized prettiness?

“If you’re nervous about going to the doctor, I could go with you,” Tazriel suggested. Their feathered ears perked up and you cursed internally. Somehow, that made them even cuter. “I know a doctor, actually. I could take you to her, if you’d like.”

They were giving you a look. An eager look, like they were already proud of themselves for having solved the problem. But you also got the impression they were not leaving here taking ‘no’ for an answer. They were going to be leaving here with you on a trip to the doctor’s or you were going to have a new roommate.

“Eh… uh…” You tried to think of a way out of this. They’re pretty, your brain supplied unhelpfully. It’d be nice to spend more time with them. Your own mind was even turning against you. “I guess that’d be… okay.”

They beamed. The fact that they looked even prettier when they did that was like adding insult to injury. “Wonderful! I’ll need to call ahead to let her know we’re coming, but she owes me a favor, I’m sure she’ll set some time aside for you.” They scrambled to their feet and practically skipped outside. You and your neighbor watched them go.

“Lucky,” she said in an undertone.

“Lucky?” you muttered back. “For breaking my ankle?”

She rolled her eyes. “For having someone so worried about you. Do you realize how frantic they were when they were banging on my door? It was kind of sweet.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so you didn’t. Tazriel stepped back into the room at that moment, sparing you the indignity. “She says we can come in whenever we want,” they said. “But we’ll have a better chance of getting in right away if we go as soon as possible.”

“Just give me a couple minutes,” you said. “I just… need to brush my teeth.” Ever since hurting your ankle, your self-care activities, otherwise known as basic hygiene, had kind of gone down the drain. No one had commented on it so far, but the longer you were in the presence of a water elemental and the perfectly polished Tazriel, the worse you felt about it.

You hobbled to the bathroom and did as quick of a spot clean as you could. Once you’d determined that it was as good as it was going to get in the time frame allowed, you pulled on some slightly-nicer clothes and headed back out to Tazriel.

Your neighbor was gone by that point, and Tazriel was waiting for you in the doorway. “Are you ready to go?” they asked, fixing you with a cheerful smile. You nodded.

“Yeah, yeah.” There was a part of your mind insisting that, despite the indignity of it, you could probably get away with slamming the door in their face and burying yourself under the blankets until everyone forgot about this doctor thing. But that would be hideously embarrassing and you weren’t sure it would stop Tazriel anyway. They seemed rather determined. “Let’s get this over with.”

Tazriel nodded cheerily, then took a step forward, holding their arms out awkwardly. You took a fumbling step back, hands up. “Hey, woah, what are you doing?”

They paused. “You can hardly walk,” they said, as though that were completely obvious. “But I can.”

You did not lower your arms from their defensive position. “You’re going to carry me?”

They looked like at you like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. “Yes, of course. I can handle it.”

“Uh,” you said, looking them up and down uncertainly. “You’re sure?”

“Of course,” they said. To their credit, they sounded extremely confident. “You’re rather small, aren’t you? I can carry you.”

You felt weirdly embarrassed about being referred to as ‘small.’ “Uh. Well.” Why wasn’t your brain working? You couldn’t string together any thoughts! “I guess, if you’re okay with it…”

They grinned and scooped you up like you were a couple of grapes. You looped your arms around their neck. It was impressive how effortless the lift seemed to them. “Comfortable?” they asked. You made a nondescript sound that roughly meant, ‘as comfortable as it is possible to be right now.’ Apparently, they could interpret that, because they took off at a slow jog.

You’d been expecting they would take one of the trains, but they ended up heading in a completely different direction than the local station. It was slightly unnerving, but they seemed to know what they were doing. You did your best to relax back into their arms. While you usually felt rather uncomfortable about having someone carry you, this felt somehow reassuring. Maybe because they were strong enough that there was no wavering of their grip or unsteadiness.

They jogged for a little while, turning down some of the main roads. People looked at the sight with some interest, though few people actively stared, which you appreciated. After turning around a few corners, they slowed down and approached a decently large building painted in white and pink. They shifted you in their arms a bit before pulling open the glass door.

It definitely smelled like a doctor’s clinic when you stepped inside, with that stinging scent of antiseptic. A few other people were milling around the room. You couldn’t get a good look at most of them, but there was someone standing in a pile of feathers in the corner. You resisted the urge to snicker. There was always someone who took a feather-enhancing potion during the Avieras Festival and then had to deal with the consequences a few days later.

Tazriel ignored the front desk and headed toward the exam area. They nudged the door open with their tail and glanced around as they stepped inside. “Doctor Gella?”

There was a moment of silence, then a middle-aged woman wearing thick spectacles poked her head out of a room a few doors down. She had an enormous set of ram’s horns sprouting from her temples and a thin tail tipped with a trident. Oh, and bright yellow skin.

“Tazriel,” she said, nodding at them. “I assume this is the patient.” She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you step into an exam room and put them down?”

The exam room was pretty standard doctor fare- a sink and a few cabinets, a machine for checking blood pressure, a couple of uncomfortable-looking chairs up against the far wall, and a bulky exam table covered in paper taking up a majority of the space. Tazriel set you down upon it and took up one of the seats. Dr. Gella gave them a pointed look. “It was kind of them to bring you here, Tazriel, but I’m afraid I can’t let you stay in the exam room while they’re being examined. Unless you would feel more comfortable if Taz stayed?” She directed the last question toward you.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” you said. Ever since you’d started smelling the antiseptic, your heart rate had picked up, and sitting on the crinkly exam table wasn’t doing it any favors. Why did doctor’s offices all have to look the same? But you’d been through this before. You didn’t need anyone to hold your hand. Tazriel nodded amiably and headed for the door.

“I’ll be in the waiting room,” they said. They gave you an amiable wink, then the door closed behind them.

The room felt a lot more confining all of a sudden.

Dr. Gella rolled a wheeled chair up to the edge of the exam table. “They’re quite sweet, but they forget the most obvious things sometimes. One of the reasons they could never work here.”

“Did they want to?”

“They were interested in one point. That’s how we got to know each other- they volunteered here when they were younger. But, as I’ve said, they’re a bit too distracted to be an attentive healer. Their knowledge of anatomy is impeccable, though. Hence why they ended up being a butcher.” Dr. Gella looked at your legs. “Ah. I see that’s the bum ankle they mentioned?”

You shifted, embarrassed. “Yeah. They told me I needed to come here, but…” You trailed off. Dr. Gella gave a half-smile.

“Not a fan of the doctor’s?” she asked. You shook your head. “That’s all right. Plenty of people aren’t. I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.”

She shifted your leg up onto the exam table and slipped off your shoe and sock. The shoe was easy, since your ankle was swollen enough that it didn’t go on all the way. The sock was a little harder, and no matter how gentle she tried to be, it still hurt. You gritted your teeth and struggled as hard as you could not to kick her.

“There we go,” she said, setting your sock next to you. “Hm.” She grimaced. “I can see why they wanted you to come in.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” you said, a little sheepish. Dr. Gella hummed disapprovingly.

“It’s definitely a bad sprain, at minimum. How long ago did you injure it?”

“Couple of days?” you said, shrinking back a little more sheepishly when Dr. Gella frowned.

“It might not have been that bad at first, but it’s certainly become worse thanks to not treating it right. I’m going to have to get a brace for it, and you’ll have to stay off it for a few weeks at least.” Her eyes glowed, suggesting she was using some kind of seeing-through spell. “Yes, it doesn’t look like there’s anything broken, but it’s certainly bruised and damaged and walking on it will make it worse.”

“Do I have to wear a cast?” you asked, hesitant.

“It’ll be a soft cast,” Dr. Gella said. You grimaced. “That bothers you?”

“I just… don’t like it.” You shifted in place, wincing when that shifted your ankle. “It bothers me.”

Dr. Gella smiled sympathetically. “If you don’t want to wear the cast, I’m certainly not going to make you do so. But it is my medical recommendation that you do so, as it will make sure that things heal better.”

You didn’t say anything. Yes, you needed to wear the cast. Yes, the idea of doing so made you feel sick to your stomach. You weren’t sure how to reconcile those emotions. Dr. Gella watched your expression, taking in your uncertainty, then forced a small smile.

“Tell you what,” she said. “I have another patient that shouldn’t take too long. You can take some time to think it over. If you’re too uncomfortable for it, then I can just give you some instructions for taking care of it, and if you feel better about the cast, we can put it on after I’m done with that patient. Sound good?”

You let out a relieved breath. At the very least, it got you out of the exam room so you could take a breather. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Certainly. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Dr. Gella helped you out of the room and offered you a set of crutches. Together, you hobbled back to the waiting room.

Tazriel was waiting in a seat close to the door when you stepped out. You nodded to Dr. Gella and went to sit next to them as she called in her next patient. Tazriel tilted their head, taking in your crutches and swollen ankle. “Are you done?”

“I’m not,” you said. “It’s… I’m…” You fumbled over your next words. Tazriel waited patiently. “Ugh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Dr. Gella was right, I don’t have to know. It’s your health,” Tazriel said. “I can leave now, if you want me too, and as long as you have a way home-”

“You don’t have to leave,” you said. Talking to them was at least a distraction from both the throbbing pain in your ankle and the swirling anxiety in your chest. “I don’t like doctor’s offices.”

Tazriel nodded. “I sort of guessed. From the way you were acting about having to go.” They hesitated. “I know I probably overstepped, bringing you here, but you really did need someone to see to that ankle.”

“Yeah, you were right. I actually do need a cast on this thing.” You shifted your ankle and immediately winced. Bad idea. “But I can’t… bring myself to get one.”

Tazriel was silent for a moment, until it was clear you weren’t going to say more. “What bothers you about it?”

You hesitated. “When I was a kid, I screwed up my arm. It was a pretty bad break, from what I remember. And they put a cast on it. I complained about the cast a lot. It was tight and itchy and I didn’t like wearing it at all.”

Tazriel nodded. “Most people don’t.”

“And then, like a week and a half into wearing the cast, it started to hurt. Really badly. I complained about it, but I’d already been complaining about it so much, everyone thought I was just continuing with that. It kept getting worse, but it took another week before anyone believed me enough to take my back to the doctor. And then the doctor was really dismissive when we did go in, so it was a few more days before my parents finally got anyone to pay attention to what was actually happening.” You took a deep breath. “The cast was too tight. And there was some damage to my hand by the time they figured it out and took it off.”

Tazriel blinked, recoiling a little. You saw them sneak a glance at your hand, subtly trying to see what was wrong without being too obvious about it. “The damage wasn’t permanent, thankfully,” you said, stretching out your arm to show them. “There’s a little scar here, but after physical therapy, I can move my hand pretty much the same as anyone else. There’s a little residual pain, on occasion, but it healed well.”

“That’s why you were so fussy about going to the doctor,” Tazriel said. “You didn’t want another cast.” They curled their tail across their lap. “I… I’m sorry for dragging you here.”

“Ah, it’s not your fault,” you said. “You were right. I did need to go. And I wasn’t going to do it unless someone kicked my ass.” You glanced at the door to the exam rooms. “The doctor said I could go without a cast, if I was really uncomfortable having one on, but I really do need one. I don’t want to screw up my ankle any worse than it already is.”

Tazriel sat for a moment, their tail settled across their lap. They were plucking at their feathers. A little further up their tail was the tail band you’d given to them. It had clearly been taking off and cleaned at one point, maybe even polished because it was even shinier than when you’d had it. “You’re still wearing that,” you said. Tazriel glanced toward the band and gave a faint smile.

“Oh, yes. It’s quite beautiful. I appreciate it.” They ran their finger over it, relishing the little textural differences. “I truly wasn’t expecting a gift.”

You laughed, a little embarrassed by how warm their voice had become. “I’m sure people trip all over themselves to give you free samples. You must be swimming in them by now.”

“Sometimes,” they admitted with a sheepish grin. “I try not to accept them too often. I don’t like to take things without paying for them. It feels unfair.”

You nudged their side playfully. “Except when you’re taking from me, huh? Trying to drive me out of business?”

Their face scrunched up in a strange way. “Eh… well…” They ran their hands up and down their tail. “I had… I had a bit of an idea about that. I was hoping perhaps I could offer to pay you back… by taking you out to dinner.”

You thought for a moment. “You wanted to ask me out to dinner?” They nodded. “Why dinner?”

They blinked, like they hadn’t thought that question would be the next one. “It wouldn’t have to be dinner, I suppose. That’s just traditional. But if you didn’t want dinner, I suppose coffee would work as well? Or if there’s something else you’d like to do?”

Your brain chugged for a moment before everything clicked together. They were asking you on a date. Right? Or maybe you were reading them wrong? You’d never been good with those sort of subtleties- maybe they meant something else? Like a friendly dinner? But if you interpreted it as a friendly dinner and they didn’t, then they would be hurt if you treated it like a friendly date, right? But if you tried to clarify and they weren’t asking you on a date, that would be so embarrassing, and maybe they’d be mad at you for being presumptuous about them asking you out…            You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize you were staring at them until Tazriel cleared their throat. “Er. I- You don’t have to say yes. I thought it might be charming, I suppose? But I suppose it is a little too pushy, so don’t feel obligated to-”

“No, no! I want to!” you said hurriedly. You couldn’t just sit there and let them feel bad! Although, now you were going to have to find a way to determine if this was a date or not without letting them know that you weren’t sure what you’d signed up for.

It seemed like answering in the affirmative was the correct choice, because their entire face brightened. “Really? Ah, that’s a relief. I’m afraid I’m not all that good with these sort of things- people assume I am, I think, but I’m really not used to it at all.” They gave you a particularly rough pat on the shoulder, which jostled you enough to make your ankle ache. You grimaced and they pulled their hands back, tucking them against their body. “Sorry. We can, uh. Hold off on the dinner until you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah,” you muttered. “I… suppose I should get the cast. To make sure that everything heals all right.”

They looked uncertain. “Are you going to be okay with that?”

“It’ll be scary, but I’m a grown-up. I can handle it.” Despite your words, your stomach churned. It wasn’t even going to be a hard cast, like the one you’d had as a kid, but the idea of something pressing in tight, restricting you like that… how were you going to sit through the procedure and just deal with it?

An impulse darted from your brain to the tip of your tongue before you could think better of it. “Will you sit with me when I get the cast on?”

Tazriel’s ears fluffed up and their eyes went wide. It was hard to tell if they were surprised or pleased to be asked. Or both. “You want me to go in with you?” Their tail gave one large wag before they settled it back into their lap. “I don’t know if I’m allowed.”

“If I say you can be in there, then you can be in there,” you said. “I’d just like someone else in there with me in case I, like. Freak out or something.”

They looked at you for a long moment and you were just about to rescind the offer out of embarrassment when they nodded. “Of course. I don’t mind at all.”

Their agreement couldn’t have come at a better time, because the exam room door swung open again and Dr. Gella stepped out. “There you are,” she said, nodding in your direction. “Have you made up your mind?”

You nodded. “I’d like Tazriel to come back with me. Just as, uh. Moral support. If that’s all right.”

Dr. Gella looked between the two of you with slightly raised eyebrows, but all she said was, “There’s some paperwork you’ll have to sign, but I don’ t think there will be any problem with it.”

Tazriel gave a single squeeze to your shoulder and followed you and Dr. Gella back to the proper exam room. You hopped back up on the table and signed a few forms Dr. Gella provided for you while Tazriel hovered a bit awkwardly nearby. “Now, I’m going to set your leg in place with magic and form the cast around it,” Dr. Gella said as soon as the paperwork was safely stored away. “That will make the most comfortable and best-fitting cast. But you’re going to have to try and not move.”

“I can try,” you said. The phantom sensation of being held in a vice grip, unable to pull your leg away even as it was clamped down on tighter and tighter and tighter hit you and you took an unsteady, gulping breath.

Tazriel moved closer so their shoulder was brushing against yours. Even with the high examination table, they had to bend over a bit. “Where were you thinking of going for dinner?”

“F-for dinner?” you said, distracted. Dr. Gella carefully worked a disinfectant and cleaning spell over your ankle, causing a race of cold tingles over your skin. The magic sparked and seemed to solidify as she shifted the magic to start holding your leg still.

“Hey.” Tazriel’s voice dropped a little, adopting a soothing register. “Don’t focus on that, okay? Look at me.”

You turned your head to catch Tazriel’s golden eyes. They beamed. “There you go! Now, I asked you about dinner, remember?” Their face took on a thoughtful expression. “Oh, but you weren’t sure about dinner, were you? I’m happy to go with whatever you’d like.”

“U-um.” The grip around your ankle was tightening, enough to put pressure on the swelling. It ached awfully. “I- I guess… lunch would be fine?” Dinner was too fancy, right? Getting lunch seemed much more low-key. Though, if they were asking you on a proper date, dinner would be more traditional, right?

“Lunch works,” Tazriel said amiably. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”

“I’m not sure.” You hazarded a glance at your ankle, but before you could get a proper look at it, Tazriel was calling your attention back.

“There’s a cute little bistro near my workplace. If you have no objections, we could go there. Have you ever been? I don’t remember the name, but it’s a pale green building with ivy crawling up the side.”

“I think I’ve seen that,” you said. The grip around your ankle had stopped tightening, but the pressure was still there. You couldn’t flex it at all. Your head thundered erratically. “It looks nice. I’ve never been there.”

“I’ve only been there once, for breakfast, but they had quite a good egg sandwich.” Your gaze started to wander back toward your leg and Tazriel squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to them. “But they’ve got a lot of variety, so I’m sure you can find something you’ll like there.”

“Uh huh,” you murmured, still distracted. The magic was solidifying into a soft cast, molding itself to the shape of your leg. There wasn’t much pain, but the feeling was still unsettling.

Tazriel licked their lips, their tail flicking rapidly. “Ah, um… Maybe you could talk about how you made this?” They swung their tail around to show off the clip still set against their scales. “It’s lovely. I was very surprised you were willing to give it to me.”

“Well, it is good business practice to make sure customers come back,” you said. “And you were a nice customer.” And maybe the fact that they were cute hadn’t hurt either. Had you actually been flirting with them without realizing it? Well, you weren’t that good at flirting when you were trying at it. Maybe flirting while you weren’t trying made you better at it. It had gotten you a maybe-date, hadn’t it?

“There we are.” Dr. Gella stepped back to examine her handiwork. “Well done. It’s all set.”

You looked down at your leg. It was booted up in a deep blue material, making one of your legs significantly heavier and more awkward than the other. You could move your leg with a decent amount of effort, but you couldn’t really flex your ankle. Gingerly, you slid off the table. Tazriel caught your arm immediately, letting you lean against their body.

“Careful,” Dr. Gella said. You couldn’t tell whether she was talking to you or Tazriel. “Your ankle’s still going to be fragile, so I’d suggest using crutches and keeping as much weight off of it as possible. I’ll write you a script for some pain medication. Take it easy for at least two weeks, then come back in and we can reassess.

“I will,” you said. “Thank you for all your help.”

She waved it off. “Of course. I’m always ready to help Tazriel’s friends.”

“Let me walk you back to your house,” Tazriel said. “Just to make sure you get back okay and have everything you need.” Their tail swayed back and forth eagerly. “And you still have my scale, right? You can call me if it gets worse or you need anything.”

Dr. Gella made a noise of surprise. “A scale, Tazriel? Really?” They paused, looking at her like they’d forgotten she was in the room. “I thought those were important to feathered dragons.”

That answered one of your questions. “I’ve never met a feathered dragon before,” you said, giving Tazriel a surprised look. They rubbed the back of their neck.

“I’m only three quarters- My grandma married a harpy. I’ve got a few more feathers than most feathered dragons.” They swayed their plumed tail back and forth, displaying the pretty feathers there. “And most modern dragons don’t hold to that old notion of scales being given to- you know. It’s convenient.”

“A seerstone is more convenient,” Dr. Gella said. You looked between them, feeling like you’d missed something important.

“What old notion?” you asked. Tazriel shook their head at Dr. Gella, who continued speaking as if she hadn’t seen them at all.

“It was an old tradition for dragons to give out scales to people they were interested in establishing a courtship with,” she said. Tazriel dropped their face into their hands. Their tail drooped to hit the ground with a dull thump. “Admittedly, courtship has fallen out of fashion, so it’s not quite as common anymore, but plenty of dragons still hold to the-”

“Okay, I think maybe you need to go home and rest,” Tazriel said, popping up from their hands and speaking much louder than was necessary for such a small room. They scooped you up over their shoulder with one arm and grabbed the crutches Dr. Gella had for you with the other.

“Be careful,” Dr. Gella said. “You don’t want to jostle their-”

“I’m always very careful,” Tazriel said in their too-loud voice. “I’ll see you another time, thank you.”

You awkwardly propped your head up from where it was hanging down Tazriel’s back. “Thank you, Dr. Gella.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, please give me a call. Just ask Tazriel for my contact information,” she said. Then Tazriel left the room and the door swung shut behind you.

You let yourself lay limply over their shoulder, ignoring the bewildered stares as you walked through the waiting room. Once you were outside and Tazriel’s embarrassed walk had slowed, you picked your head up again. “Perhaps you could give me an opportunity to walk on my own?”

Tazriel stuttered to a stop. “Oh. Yes.” They moved to the shadow of a building and carefully put you down so you could lean against the wall while they put the crutches down. “I shouldn’t have picked you up like that, I was just…” They trailed off.

“It’s fine,” you said, deciding to be polite and not call attention back to their embarrassment. Then you had a question and decided to do it anyway. “Um. So, the thing with the scale…” Tazriel immediately looked like they were considering making a run for it. “It would have been more convenient to use a seerstone, wouldn’t it? Why did you pick the scale?”

Tazriel really looked like they were hoping the ground would swallow them up, but, to their credit, they stood there and answered. “It.... isn’t used as a way to start courting anymore, but… there are certain connotations to it and there are a lot of old legends and…” They cleared their throat and stared firmly at the ground. “I was planning on asking you out. I just hadn’t quite plucked up the courage yet. The scale was more spur of the moment than anything. I didn’t want to ask you out in that moment, not when you were hurt, so I picked something that was similar, but not something you would recognize. I hoped it would maybe help me feel braver next time I saw you. And I suppose I thought maybe the scale would make it more likely for you to call me than just connecting with a seerstone.”

Well. That answered your other question. It was a date. A pleasant prickling sensation rolled through your chest. “I- I thought it was sweet,” you said, partially because it was true and partially so Tazriel didn’t look so painfully shy anymore. They smiled at that.

“Let’s get you home. And connect seerstones so we can actually plan everything out for our lunch.” Tazriel helped you get set up with the crutches and you began your slow journey back to your house.

It took a while to get back to your home, but Tazriel was a pleasant conversationalist. In fact, you were almost disappointed when they stopped at your front door.

“I’ll see you again,” they said. “Get some rest. If you need anything else, I’m available. By scale or seerstone.”

“I’ll call. I promise,” you said. “Thank you for everything.” You carefully balanced yourself on your crutches and reached one of your arms up toward them. They obligingly leaned closer. You took their face in your palm and tugged them in close for just long enough to press a kiss to their cheek.

They didn’t make a sound, but their tail and ear feathers fluffed up. “I’ll call you,” you said. They nodded rapidly. Grinning, you stepped back into your house. You needed to rest up your leg. Once you were healed, you had a date to go on.

[steppingstonesuniverseguide]

Deleted Scene from One Step At a Time Ch 36: The Curator

I'm going to be posting a One Step At a Time entry soonish and I'm deleting a bunch of things because it got very *silly* and kind of interfered with the whole *vibe* of the chapter. That being said, I do love the silly, so enjoy an exclusive Ch 36.0 from One Step At a Time.

(Also Techno does say a thing that's might come off as way too rude, but, like, Wilbur doesn't mind. He watched his dad mourn him for years. He knows he's wanted and both he and Techno are 100% aware of this.)

“We are we going?” Tommy asked for the 5th time in as many minutes. This trip was always too long even without a Tommy in the car.

"We already told you,” Wilbur said, sounding grumpy. (Probably because he’d been demoted to backseat. Usually, they’d make Phil sit in the back during civilian outings in revenge for all of the years they had to allow him to drive, but Tubbo was also sitting in the back seat and putting Phil back there seemed like a poor decision.) “We’re going to the library.”

“We are not going to the library,” Tommy said. “All three of you brought your costumes and you brought us masks.” He reached forward to poke Phil. “Phil where are we going.”

"We’re going to the library, mate,” Phil said with more patience than the child deserved today. “It’s just a special library.”

“Is it a crime library?”

“It’s a…” Phil said.

“Yes. It’s a crime library,” Wilbur cut in.

“Technically, it does house books considered illegal in current society,” Phil said.

“Like Animal Farm and The Lorax,” Techno contributed.

“What is a Lorax?” Tommy asked.

“We’ll check it out for you,” Techno said.

“Will you read it to me?”

“I promise you can read The Lorax yourself well enough at this point, but I will read Animal Farm to you if you’d like.”

“Anti-government bedtime story with Techno hour is starting up again.”

“Eventually we’ll get to The Communist Manifesto and What is Property?”

“God please, I don’t want to hear any more about 1800s relationship drama between Marx and Proudhon. This is all your fault.” Techno didn’t see it since he was driving but considering that Tommy make a squeaking sound and having sat in the backseat with Wilbur himself plenty times, he assumed Tommy had just been elbowed in the ribs.

He then heard various slapping sounds.

“Boys, please stop fighting,” Phil said.

“He started it,” Wilbur claimed which was not exactly true, but also Tommy had been being annoying for the entire car trip.

“I didn’t start shit. I just asked a normal fucking question about where we were going.”

“You-”

“Tubbo is sitting in the front on the way back,” Techno said just to Phil. “There is no other option at this point. We have to have an adult sit between them.”

“I’m older than you!” Wilbur declared, too close to Techno’s ear. Luckily, they were at a stoplight and Techno could reach back blindly to shove his head back into the backseat where it belonged.

“Phil,” Techno said. “explain to me again why you made him.”

“Tech-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Techno said, glancing into the backseat. “You were an accident.”

“Unlike you,” Wilbur said, “who he consciously decided to adopt as his itty bitty baby child.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Boys do I need to turn this car around?”

“How?” Techno and Wilbur said as one.

“This is why we don’t go on road trips anymore,” Phil sighed.

“Yes,” Techno said.

“Exactly,” Wilbur agreed.

“Also, he almost drove us off the Grand Canyon.”

“That too.”

Phil just rolled his eyes and turned to look out of the window.

“Okay, but are we almost there yet,” Tommy asked.

Wilbur groaned. “You’re such a child.”

“I’ve never been on a car ride this long,” Tommy complained. Which… now that Techno thought about it was a good point. They probably should have thought of that before putting him in the car.

“Tubbo’s fine.”

“Tubbo’s been asleep for an hour.”

“We’re almost there,” Techno said. “10 minutes.” Well, it was about 10 minutes to the entrance of the library, but he thought Tommy would probably be entranced by that.