#story tag: all ye mighty

[shadow4-1]

“Dying alone.” You hummed, running the brush through your horse’s hair. “Y’know, it’s been weighing on me.”

Price huffed out a soft breath and nuzzled his graying muzzle against your palm. You smiled at him, rubbing your knuckles over the soft fuzz of his snout. When you’d first got him he’d been a young workhorse too ornery for any ranch hand in the county. After doing some research, you figured out he was a European breed, one not meant for the rough hands of your fellow Americans. You’d gotten him cheap, and yet his training came at a ‘price’. It took awhile for you to learn his ins an outs but he quickly grew to become your favorite - as well as your oldest. He was the first member of your ranch after all.

“I’ve never wanted to look for a man. They’re so gross, Price.” You sighed, working a few tangles out of his short, dark mane. “They always say they want me for me, but really they just want the ranch.”

There was a short bark from the door of the barn. A black and white, muscular dog stood waiting for your command. You tsked at him and he slowly came trotting up to you, head low to the ground in a submissive posture. The closer he came, the more you noticed the white fur surrounding his eyes and snout - starting to gray like Price’s.

“C’mere Ghost.” You hummed.

The dog obliged and pressed the top of his head into your hand. Ghost was such a mutt. You’d picked him up as a pup from a mean roadside vendor. If you had to guess, he had some kind of German Shepherd in him. Maybe some Rottweiler or Pit Bull? You couldn’t be sure. But what you did know, is that -

“Aw, look at my best boy! You’re my best boy!” You baby talked, squishing his chunky face. Ghost just licked his lips in indignation but made no move to escape your hold. Price snorted loudly and pawed at the ground, upset that you stopped brushing his mane.

“Okay okay. I get it.” You laughed. “Let me just finish up here!”

-

There wasn’t any field tending that needed to be done, so you sent Price off to the fenced in pasture. Despite his age, he kicked up dirt and pranced about in delight. You smiled at the old horse before heading back to the barn. Ghost sat patiently outside, his metal tags glinting in the sunlight.

“Okay, boy. Show time.”

And just like that, all hell seemed to break loose. Ghost ran into the barn and started to bark. While usually subdued, this time his bark was loud and mighty. The sheep and cows stirred in their pens. The chickens squawked from their roosts. You threw open the barn with a mighty heave. And just like that, the animals were also let out into the fenced pasture.

The cows bounded out happily, their bells clanging. Then came the half dozen sheep and their young lambs, followed by a dozen assorted chickens. You sprinkled chicken feed and enjoyed the morning mayhem. A rooster made himself known from the pack by standing up straight, puffing out his chest, and crowing with so much might you thought he might hurt himself. You poured a bit of feed in your hand before crouching down.

“Here Johnny, Johnny.” You giggled, shaking your hand.

The large rooster strutted up to you with absolutely no fear. He ruffled his feathers and clucked at you before eating the feed right out of your hand. When he was done, he let you pet him. If you wanted to pick him up, you easily could’ve. Most mornings you spent with him on your hip. Despite how amazing of a rooster he was, he never got violent with you. Now, any other hired help, it was a different story. Come to think of it, none of your animals really worked for anyone else but you.

“Sorry Johnny.” You sighed, standing up and taking a step back. “Gotta trim-woah!”

Something hard nudged firmly against your rear. You regained your balance and looked behind you.

“Kyle!” You scolded. “Yes, yes! You’re going out to the pasture too!”

The large billy goat bleated at you and rubbed the top of his de-horned head against your hip, as if to scratch himself on your belt. With a soft pat to his head, you lead him through the pasture and farther into the green grass. It took him a minute, but after taking a glance at Price on the other end of the field, he began to run towards him. The two creatures met in the middle and began to play.

You weren’t entirely sure why those two got along so well, but they certainly did. Price playfully nipped at Kyle’s short tail. Kyle just bleated in excitement and tried to ram his head into the old horse’s leg. They were a funny little duo, that was certain.

And with that, you began to finish up your morning chores. You collected the eggs and the fresh milk from the gallon jugs in the barn. You cleaned up the stalls and polished Price’s riding tack. Once you made sure everyone had fresh food and water you decided to go inside and clean up. Today was an easy day. All you would be responsible for was to bring the animals back in as well as feed yourself.

You showered, dressed in a flowy white sundress, and headed outside. You sat out in the pasture, under the shade of the old oak tree and your floppy sun hat. This day was like no other. After enjoying a bowl of fruit and a glass of iced tea it didn’t take long for you to doze off in your favorite lawn chair.

-

You dreamed that you were taking Price back to the stables after a good ride around the ranch. It was late, and the southern heat was oppressive. You wiped the sweat off Price’s back with an old towel as your removed his tack.

“Y’know. Despite your age, y’ still give a girl a great ride.” You chuckled at the old horse. You rubbed his snout. He snorted at you and you giggled. “You have no clue what I’m talking about.”

With another laugh, you turned to the stall's gate. You opened it just enough to reach to the built in shelf next to it. You dug your hand into a small box and swiped a handful of sugar cubes from within it. You turned, hand outstretched to offer it to Price. Except, when you turned, there was no longer a horse.

Standing there, completely nude, was a human man.

You gasped in shock and took a step back, hitting the edge of the stall’s wall. He took a step forward, blue eyes glittering. He eyed the sugar cubes you now clutched tightly in your palm. He reached forward, prying them from your grip, before hungrily tossing them into his mouth. He ate them with no discomfort and even smiled as he swallowed them down.

“Thanks, Love.” He licked his lips, remnants of the glittery sugar still caught in his mustache.

“P-Price?” You squeaked.

“Who else would it be?”

You had half a mind to run, but you were so enamored with the thought that your precious horse could be a human. He stepped even farther forward, boxing you into the corner of the wooden stall. Your head hit the wall, making the various items hung up shudder from the impact. Price unhooked one of the ancient reins away from the top of your head before dropping it into the fresh hay at your feet. He admired his hands for a second and so did you.

“I-you-wh-what is going on?” You managed out. “This is some kind of joke, right?”

Price didn’t seem to hear you as he tried to get a feel for his own body. You watched in shock and arousal as he flexed his arm muscles and observed the firm ripples of his own chiseled abdomen. He petted down his belly and admired the thick curls that trailed over his cock. He gripped at it, tugged at it experimentally before seeming to realize something important.

“Ready for that ride, Love?”

[chanranghaeys]

🎥 chemistry read

in which Junhui’s casting director gets a little bit too jealous during a chemistry read

pairing: actor!junhui x afab!casting director!reader word count: 2.1k+ genre: hurt, comfort, nsfw rating: r-18. nsfw, mdni! tags: established relationship, JEALOUSY, fluffy ending, reader is mentioned to be smaller than jun, i claim no accuracy over the movie industry processes nsfw warnings: heavy makeout, petting, voyeurism (if you squint?) a/n: mainly inspired by lana condor and noah centineo’s chemistry read for “to all the boys i’ve loved before” and it still lives rent-free in my head because it made me feel so, so many things. also my first nsfw-rated fic oh my. took me a while to make sense of where the story was going but it seemed all roads led to this. credits to @strxwberry-skiess, @diamonddaze01, @haologram, and c for beta reading because this took a village to get out!! thank you bless your souls 🫶

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Do you believe in the red string of fate?”

“The what?”

“The red string of fate. Have you seriously not heard of it?”

Jun was pulling out all the stops for this one. He had cranked up his charm to the max level evident in the smiles and subtle glances towards her direction. He knew exactly what he was doing.

It was sickening.

You were sitting on the opposite end of the screen in another room. Yes, you chose to go into a separate room today.

“It’s to see the literal on-screen chemistry,” you said. “We can’t have the face-to-face chemistry not translating well on camera.”

Just as well. You’d had enough of them making heart eyes at each other right in front of you anyway.

Today’s schedule was packed with absolutely no time for breaks in between and no time to even sit for a proper meal which you knew you’d only get by the end of the day.

And no time to actually sit down with the actor you were working with—who you were also lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

If you too were an actor, you’d truly believe that Jun was the perfect fit for you. It was something about his carefree presence and easygoing demeanor that turned shy when praises were directed at him no matter how much he deserved it. It was something that made you want to keep rooting for him.

He saw precisely that in you: your unwavering dedication and quiet support, whether in giving him insider tips and tricks to get ahead or letting him run wild with his character at every casting call. It was something he had never seen so strongly in someone during his time as an actor.

“You remind me of my members,” he told you the very first time you had coffee together—as colleagues who were on the verge of becoming something. “They’re my brothers. And I mean that in the best way possible! Not that you’re my brother in the messing around and crazy kind of way,” he quickly added when you raised your eyebrows in question. “I mean in the ‘always being there to stand by your side no matter what’ kind of way.” He sips from his drink nervously. “Don’t ask me to explain please, because I will not stop rambling until I say something even more stupid than I already have.”

You laughed because he’d already rambled more than he usually did. As a casting director, it was your job to match actors to roles that suited them perfectly. But as people, you both could say you did a mighty good job in matching each other’s quirks and freaks.

Professional mode on during work, you two agreed. And you two did very well on that promise.

But bringing her in for the role made it infinitely difficult for you to keep up your end of this deal.

“She’s an old friend of mine! We worked together on one of my very first projects, the small ones I used to tell you about.” He said this when you asked about her. You knew all that already, of course—it was part of your job.

But when the two finally met again in person, you saw it. As a casting director, your professional instincts felt it. You saw it in the way they instantly gravitated to each other, the way their eyes both sparkled, the way their hands naturally connected even after all those years apart.

They were perfect for the role.

And in your head, a small voice continued the thought you didn’t want to touch.

They were perfect for each other.

It was the same voice nagging in your head throughout the duration of the chemistry read. You knew this scene by heart as if you were the one auditioning for the role. You’ve watched how many callbacks and chemistry reads of this scene. And you knew what came next.

After the back-and-forth dialogue was a moment of silence, followed by a lingering gaze, which was sealed with a kiss that escalated to a bed scene. It was a pivotal moment in the film so it had to be perfect.

You’d almost been desensitized to your boyfriend doing such scenes—professional mode on as always. But all that work crumbled the moment you saw their eyes lock onscreen. Slowly, slowly, their faces inched closer together to meet in a kiss.

Your eyes burned. Your fist clenched as you saw his hand fist in her hair. Your jaw tightened when you saw her lips land in the corner of his jaw. And just as he brought her head down on the couch, the director called “Cut!” and you stood up to walk out of the room, not without feeling a stray tear fall down your cheek.

Jun heard the slam of the door and jerked his head toward the sound. That was all it took for him to know what happened.

He wasn't the only one to notice. Jun found the director’s eyes meeting his with a knowing look. “Alright,” the director started. “Well, they don't call it a chemistry read for nothing!” Scattered laughs filled the small room. “Thank you to both of you, that was absolutely amazing.”

The producers took the actress aside for a few words with other managers and staff. Your presence was notably absent.

Before Jun could slip away, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “That was the best read so far,” the director said.

“I know,” and with his eyebrows raised he continued, “I heard the door.”

The director just gave him a lighthearted laugh. “I’m sure we all did. But you know she would agree.”

Jun knew. So while everyone was preoccupied, he glanced at his manager—who already knew what he’d do—and set off to find you. It wasn’t a hard task because he opened the nearest door to the stairwell and found you leaning against the wall.

You met his eyes when you heard the door open, following him and his slight smile until he ended up a short distance beside you with his shoulder against the wall. You were adamant about not wanting him to see you break. You’re a professional, right?

“You know it’s not real,” he starts.

You scoff. “How is it not real when it was right in front of me?”

“Stop that, green isn’t a good color on you.”

“What?” Jarred, you look down at your staple all-black ensemble. “But green’s my favorite color. You told me you liked me in green.”

“Not when it’s green with jealousy.”

It took you two seconds to register what he said. The corner of your mouth twitched involuntarily at the quip. “I am not jealous.”

Jun barely held in a laugh. “Yeah, sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not!”

“Jealous you’re not the one I was kissing?”

“No, I—”

“Jealous you’re not the one I’m holding?” He reaches out and loops his finger through one of your belt loops to pull you closer, closer, until you’re both joined at the hip. He shifts to effectively pin you against the wall with his height. You shiver against his touch when his fingertips graze the base of your neck.

“Now, you stop that,” you breathily let out.

“Stop what?” He asks oh so innocently.

“This.”

“No. Not until I prove to you how real this is.” He grabs ahold of your hand, and places it somewhere you did not expect it to go: right over his clothed crotch.

He was wearing loose slacks, a piece that could easily hide things that need to be hidden. But if there was one thing you did know about Jun is that he gets hard quick and easy and it takes him a while to calm down. With your hand on it, you could feel it was anything but hard.

“You know me. You tell me if that read did anything remotely close to what you do to me.”

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can let out a reply, his lips land on yours. His actions catch you off-guard and you instinctively clutch onto his arms and your last bits of sanity. Just as quick, he breaks away and grabs your hand again to return it to where it came from.

“Keep it here, love. I need you to have the proof in your hands.” He brushes a stray hair from your face, and you see your own desire in his eyes reflected back to you. He leans in, but stops short of your lips, leaving you to chase after his touch. The smirk that followed was telling of his thoughts. He was teasing you. God.

You had no more patience for his fun and games. You could feel the pent-up frustration building. Whether from anger or sexual arousal, the line has been blurred irrevocably. With your free hand, you latch onto his hair and pull him in aggressively into an open-mouthed kiss.

It was at this moment that you both decided to think “fuck it” to all modes of professionalism.

He takes advantage of your open mouth and wastes no time diving deeper. You find yourself reciprocating his kisses, pulling him in closer as if recreating the scene you watched him do but making sure it was imprinted with your mark on him.

“I love you.” You hear it whispered, feel it muttered against your lips. “I love you, and only you,” he continues in between kisses. “I love you.”

And there it is: the proof you could feel quite literally in your hand, at the crux between his legs. If you weren’t too in the heat of the moment, you could almost laugh. He decided to prove his loyalty to you by showing that he did not get a boner during the chemistry read. It was your lips and your hands, and yours only, that could do this to him. It was peak Junhui.

But now, you were only aroused beyond comprehension, apparent in the pit of your core and the slick pooling in your panties. You squeeze him through his slacks and he moans lewdly in your mouth, echoing in the empty stairwell bearing witness to this obscenity.

He starts kissing and licking down your neck as you feel his hands snake under your blouse and your bra to squeeze in return, earning a gasp from your swollen mouth. You fist the hand you had in his hair tighter, fully aware that you are indeed messing it up and you will very much get a word from his stylist about this.

Your ringtone effectively silenced all other sounds you both made before things could go any further. You both stopped to look at each other with expressions that were hard to decipher whether in alarm or in exhilaration.

“Hello?”

You hear your director on the other end. “So have you two kissed and made up yet? Not literally, I hope.”

From the corner of your eye, Jun chuckled. You cleared your throat, but your voice was still a pitch too high when you replied, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Alright, now come on back here. We have dinner prepared for everyone, including the new girl. We still need to talk about her.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Now, okay? We’ve been stalling for you two.”

Ah, shit. “Okay. On the way.” You dropped the call and looked at Jun leaning back against the wall, whose hair he managed to salvage and whose clothes were almost presentable. You couldn’t say the same for your half-open jeans and messed-up lipstick.

Wordlessly, he pulls you in and helps tidy you up—fixing your hair as you put your clothes back together and wipe off the stray lipstick from your face.

“For the record,” he says as he tucks your hair behind your ear, “whatever chemistry you see on the screen is only because I have you in my head to draw inspiration from. There’s a reason why people close their eyes when they kiss. It’s you I see every time.”

You usually love it when Junhui rambles like this. You still do now, but you also recall his “green with jealousy” line and it fills you with embarrassment.

“It’s just…it looked so real. It felt so real. That was the best chemistry read out of all of them.”

“So I was told earlier.”

“It made me feel so many things.” The exasperation was evident in your voice.

He takes your hands this time and holds them tight. “I’ll make you feel even more things, I’m sure. But I will not let you forget that I will make you feel loved the most. Okay?”

You sigh. You love him. “I love you, Jun.”

“I love you, too.” He raises a hand to press a kiss on your knuckles.

“Also remind me to call building security. I must tell them to delete that footage from the stairwell.”

Jun gives you a quiet smile, one full of mischief. “Not without securing a copy first. For me. Please?”

“I thought we were professionals!”

“We could add professional rule-breakers to that title, you know.”

Hmm. You reconsider his request. Yep, you could definitely match his freak. Perfect chemistry.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: inbox is open for requests or additions to taglists!

[bullet-prooflove]

Feral: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @readmetosleep @kierawashere01 @hangmanscoming @goldensunshine91

Companion piece to:

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

The Good & The Bad - Rip gives you every single piece of himself.

The Vet - Rip comes face to face with a nightmare.

The Train Station - Rip takes you to the train station.

Nightmares - Rip struggles in the aftermath of Gina's attack.

The thing you love about sleeping with Rip is the feel of his heated flesh against yours, the way he wraps himself around you, clasping you close. He buries his face into the curve of your shoulder, his beard rubbing against your bare skin as he tucks you into the shelter of his chest.

He’s been protective since the Becks, fierce and territorial. You know it’s a symptom of what happened to Gina, that he dreams about what would have happened if you hadn’t got the upper hand on Teal Beck.

“You need to stop being so feral.” You tell him, placing a delicate kiss to the tip of his nose.  He huffs his response into the hollow of your throat, his lips brushing over that sensitive spot, the one he knows sets every single one of your nerve endings ablaze. “I mean it, you’re going to drive yourself crazy…”

The conversation falls away then because he’s rolling you onto your back and hitching your thighs up around his hips. His hands pin your wrists to the mattress and he stares down at you with those dark heated eyes of his.

“I love you.” He says firmly. “And if people know that they’re less likely to fuck with you.”

“Baby.” You say softly. “I have no problem with people knowing I’m yours. I’d scream it from the rooftops if I thought that would make you happy but snarling at other people isn’t going to get you what you want.”

“And what is it you think I want?” He asks you, his head dipping low, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Security.” You say quietly. “Stability.”

Underneath it all, that is what this is all about because Rip has never had either of those things. His life has always been in a state of flux, the minute he stops being useful is the minute he’s displaced so he makes himself indispensable.

“And how do I get that?” He whispers, his mouth trailing lower, his rough beard dragging over your skin in the most sensuous way.

“You marry me.” You tell him as your hips arch up against his. “You say ‘Jen, I can’t imagine my life without you’ and then you put a ring on my finger.”

“Honey.” He says, his fingers entwining with yours as he presses you into the mattress. “I don’t have a ring but what I do have is a heart that beats only for you, now if you’d kindly oblige me by saying you’ll be my wife so I can ruin you in these sheets, I’d be mighty grateful.”

You laugh then and if it ain’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard he doesn’t know what is.

“Yes.” You say as he captures your mouth with his. “I’d love to be your wife.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[novaursa]

The Conqueror's Legacy

- Summary: Dragon blood is meant to twist and coil on itself, and so Aegon wishes to bethrode his children to each other.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Aegon I Targaryen

- Note: This story is part of The Broke Crown series. These events happen after Fire and Heart. The masterlist is pinned to the top of my blog.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @fiction-fanfic-reader @fireandblood-mharmie @poisonedsultana @sunset18rose

You watch as Aegon’s figure cuts through the misty morning on the high ridge where Balerion waits. The sun catches his silver hair, casting a glow around him that feels both warm and commanding. Your son, Aerion, grips your hand tightly, his young face a mixture of excitement and fear. This will be his first flight on Balerion, the Black Dread—a rite of passage for a Targaryen child.

Aegon turns his gaze towards you both, a rare softness in his eyes as he walks back toward Aerion, kneeling before him. “Are you ready, my son?” he asks, his voice both gentle and firm.

Aerion swallows hard, his little hand clutching your fingers tighter. “I am, Father.” His voice trembles, betraying his nerves.

You kneel beside him, brushing his silver hair back. “Remember, Aerion,” you whisper, “Balerion is mighty, but he knows us. There is nothing to fear with your father by your side.” You give Aegon a small nod, silently entrusting him with the task of guiding your son into the skies.

Aegon’s hand, large and steady, rests on Aerion’s shoulder. “Hold on tight, and trust in me,” he says to the boy, a faint smile on his lips as he rises, extending a hand to help him onto Balerion’s massive saddle.

You watch, heart thudding, as Aegon lifts Aerion onto the dragon’s back and secures him. Turning his gaze back to you, he reaches out a hand. “Come, Y/N,” he calls. “Let us show Aerion the skies as we know them.”

With a nod, you join them, swinging up onto Balerion’s back and sitting just behind Aerion. The dragon beneath you shifts slightly, his wings stretching as he senses the journey to come.

“Are you ready, Aerion?” Aegon asks once more, his hands steady on the reins.

Aerion nods, clutching the saddle as tightly as his small hands can manage. “Yes, Father.”

With a powerful thrust of Balerion’s wings, you feel the ground fall away beneath you. The air whips against your face as you ascend, the dragon’s mighty beats echoing in your ears. Aerion gasps, and his grip on the saddle tightens.

“It’s alright,” you murmur to him, leaning forward to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Look around, Aerion. All of Westeros lies beneath you.”

Aegon glances back, his expression calm, though you catch the hint of pride in his gaze. “You see, Aerion, this is what it means to be a Targaryen. To look upon the world not as others do, but from above.” He gestures to the vast landscape stretching beneath, the rivers winding like silver ribbons, the mountains rising like ancient giants, and the green valleys unfurling in every direction.

“Do you remember what I told you of dragons, Aerion?” Aegon asks, his voice carrying over the wind.

Aerion nods, his awe-struck gaze locked on the view. “That they are our blood, bound to us.”

“Yes,” Aegon replies. “They are our blood and our legacy. And one day, you will ride a dragon of your own.” His gaze shifts from Aerion to you, a glimmer of affection in his eyes.

You smile, feeling a surge of pride in your son. “And on that day, he will remember this moment, with his father and mother by his side.”

As Balerion soars higher, Aegon begins to point out landmarks, recounting tales of battles, triumphs, and legends, his voice full of pride for his heritage and love for his family. Aerion listens raptly, his fear long forgotten.

After a time, Balerion’s massive wings tilt, and he begins a slow descent back to Dragonstone. You lean closer to Aegon, letting your hand rest on his back, finding comfort in the heat of his presence.

“A fine young dragonlord he will be,” you say quietly to Aegon, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “With his father’s strength and courage.”

“And his mother’s wisdom,” Aegon replies, his tone soft, but you hear the deep respect in it.

As you touch down, Aerion dismounts with a newfound confidence, turning to you and Aegon with a bright, excited smile.

“I’ll remember this forever,” he promises, his voice filled with a young boy’s awe and reverence.

Aegon kneels to meet his son’s eyes. “Good,” he replies, his hand resting on Aerion’s shoulder. “For one day, you may need to call upon this strength.”

Watching them together, you feel a profound sense of belonging. In this moment, high above the world, there is only the legacy you have built together.

The children’s laughter drifted through the courtyard, a sound of innocence against the heavy stone walls of Dragonstone. Aelora and Vaella, the daughters of Aegon and yourself, played hand-in-hand with their older half-brothers, Maegor and Aenys. Their silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, a reminder of their Targaryen blood, as their games wove them closer together like threads in a tapestry.

Visenya, regal and vigilant, observed the children, her expression one of quiet contemplation. She saw Maegor take Vaella’s hand, guiding her gently through the intricate game of dragon scales—a game she had taught him. Meanwhile, Aenys tried his best to keep up with Aelora’s boundless energy, his warm laughter echoing with hers.

“Aegon,” Visenya murmured, her voice barely a whisper, but Aegon’s attention turned to her as though he’d been waiting. She glanced his way, her piercing gaze softened by a hint of curiosity. “Do you mean for them to be more than just kin?”

Aegon didn’t answer at once. Instead, he watched his children, seeing something in them that ran deeper than family ties. “I do,” he replied after a moment, his voice steady. “The blood of Old Valyria runs strong in them. A union between the four would keep our line unbroken, ensuring the strength of our House.”

Visenya raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. “You have thought well on this, brother.”

“Of course,” Aegon replied. “But I will speak with Y/N when she returns from her flight. The skies bring her peace; she feels freer with Tesaerix. And with the pregnancy…” He trailed off, his gaze thoughtful. “I would not place added weight upon her without her counsel.”

Visenya’s eyes softened as she followed his gaze back to the children. “She has always been close with all young ones,” she remarked, thinking of your gentle, protective presence with Aelora and Vaella. “They adore her. When she speaks of their future, I see the pride in her eyes. She would want a say in this, Aegon.”

Aegon nodded, his expression warming at the thought of you. “She has a sense for them, a way of knowing what is best,” he agreed. “I would have her wisdom in this. And besides,” he added, a touch of humor entering his voice, “I am certain she would be eager to decide who suits whom best.”

At that, Visenya laughed, a soft, restrained sound that felt rare and genuine. “No doubt. I imagine she has her own ideas on their futures.”

Aelora’s sudden cry of joy drew their attention back to the children. She and Aenys were locked in a playful contest, each trying to topple the other over a small pile of stones. Vaella, more reserved, clung to Maegor’s hand, watching her sister’s antics with wide, curious eyes. Maegor himself seemed slightly amused, his normally serious expression softened by Vaella’s quiet admiration.

“They’re well-matched,” Visenya observed, her gaze flicking between the pairs. “Aelora has a fiery spirit, much like you. She would balance Aenys’ gentler nature.” She looked at Maegor, her pride for her son evident in her gaze. “And Vaella... she has a steadiness, a quiet strength. I believe she would understand Maegor’s nature better than most.”

Aegon nodded, deep in thought. “I see it, too. But I would hear her thoughts, her dreams for them.”

“She will approve,” Visenya murmured confidently. “She has always held our family’s future close to her heart.”

As they watched, Aelora and Aenys finished their game, both flushed with triumph and laughter. Aelora’s hair whipped around her face as she gave a victorious cheer, and Aenys gave her a mock bow, ever the polite young prince. Meanwhile, Vaella offered Maegor a small, shy smile, her hand still in his. Maegor, unsmiling but gentle, squeezed her hand in response, a quiet exchange that needed no words.

Aegon’s face softened. “There is promise in them, Visenya. A unity that could bring us all closer.”

“And yet, I think she would caution you to give them time,” Visenya added. “She would want them to come to this union willingly, even as we guide them.”

At that moment, the air stirred, carrying the distant sound of dragon wings. Tesaerix appeared on the horizon, her brilliant scales glinting in the sun, with you at her helm. Aegon’s gaze brightened as he watched you descend, your bond with your dragon evident in the graceful way you rode.

Visenya offered him a knowing smile. “Go to her, brother. Speak to her of your plans.”

Aegon nodded, a rare smile touching his lips. As Tesaerix landed, he walked toward you, watching as you dismounted with a practiced ease. He reached for your hand, steadying you with gentle strength. “You seem lighter,” he murmured, noting the glow of your cheeks.

“The skies ease me,” you replied, your hand lingering in his. “It is as if the weight of the world falls away up there.”

Aegon led you closer to the courtyard, guiding your gaze to the children as they played. “Y/N,” he began carefully, “I have been thinking of their futures.” He gestured toward Aelora and Vaella. “And those of their older brothers.”

You raised an eyebrow, a spark of curiosity in your eyes. “Tell me,” you encouraged, leaning into him.

Aegon explained his thoughts, his desire to bind the four children together, ensuring the strength of their line. As he spoke, you listened carefully, a soft smile curving your lips as you watched your daughters with their half-brothers.

“They care for each other already,” you murmured, seeing the gentle way Maegor looked after Vaella and the joy that sparked between Aelora and Aenys. “A bond would feel natural to them.”

Aegon nodded, his fingers grazing yours in a quiet show of unity. “Yet I would not do so without your voice in this. They are ours, as much your vision as mine.”

You looked at him, warmth in your gaze. “I see the wisdom in it, Aegon,” you replied softly. “But give them time to grow into this bond on their own. Let it become their choice as much as ours.”

He nodded, gratitude in his eyes. “Then it will be as you say.”

You shared a look, both of you understanding that this moment was but the beginning. And as you watched the children, your hand in his, the future felt secure, a vision built not just on legacy, but on love and understanding.

[blessedbucky]

we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 4.1)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 15.5k (IT JUST KEEPS GETTING LONGER WHY)

summary: that second year of high school has a clear division within your mind—before summer and after. this is the before.

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, awkward teenage sexual awakenings, denying that you're thirsting on your bffs and you're plunging in DENIAL river at the thought of CRUSHING on your bffs, masturbation, wet dreams (ish?), the existential crisis of realizing a bunch of old dudes poorly control the future of your teenage life, and good ole fashioned meltdowns

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @honeydew-cheesecake

author note: (ಠ_ಠ) no seriously dude stories really do have a mind of their own because HERE WE ARE. 15.5 THOUSAND WORDS. and that was BEFORE hidden inventory. i've still got so many brain worms for post-hidden inventory that i said "my god the tumblr post will be so fucking long let me just cut this in half and give the besties an update while i'm at it"

chapter links: ONE, TWO, THREE, AO3

[YEAR TWO.]

[PART I]

You know that they’re there. You’re not sure exactly where, but you can feel their eyes on you—sharp and predatory. You know that you may not be the best sorcerer around, but you think that this is a mission only you can do. You can’t let yourself waver here! There are people who depend on you now!

“We truly appreciate this, Senpai.”

They’re close, you can feel it. You’ll have to make your final stand here. Maybe you can trick them, so they don’t come at you with their all. Yes, you’ll talk and make it look like you’ve let your guard down.

You slow to a stop and turn around to face the two boys behind you with a smile. Haibara Yu and Nanami Kento—the only two to be enrolled this year. Both of them come from non-sorcerer families, so like you and Suguru last year, they’re here a week early to have a crash course on the jujutsu world. Hmm, now that you think about it, that could be why you’re so protective of them. You remember how overwhelmed you were by all that information thrown at you.

Nanami was dead serious with his thanks, as he is in general. Paired with Haibara, who is open and warm, you hope that his sharp edges will soften. Just as you hope that Nanami will teach Haibara to learn how to focus. He’s very laidback. You’re not sure that he realizes how dangerous sorcery can be.

“I hope this doesn’t offend you,” Haibara starts nervously, “but isn’t this…excessive?”

Oh, poor, sweet, naïve Haibara. There are still stars in his eyes. It blinds him to the truth that you have to do this because no one else can. Only you can stand up to those saccharine smiles and escort your precious juniors to class. Without you, either they’d be kidnapped or Nanami would break and be expelled because he hasn’t built up an immunity yet.

Out of the corner of your eye, shadows move.

However, you were prepared for this!

You’ve learned from experience, so you know that one will try to sneak up behind you and snatch you up. With a mighty cry, you brandish the bottle that you had hidden in the front pocket of your uniform. Giving your back to your juniors, you spray Suguru right in the face with water.

“Gah!”

You spin on your heel and push between Nanami and Haibara to reach Satoru who stands behind them with a sadistic grin. His hands were going for their collars, but he’s lost when you spray him in the face, too. It doesn’t matter that the water is stalled by Infinity. They’ve lost the game today.

“No!” You hold the spray bottle up threateningly. Satoru accepts his defeat by dropping down to sit on the ground and cross his arms over his chest. “Let them get to class! There’s not gonna be any weird hazing rituals on my watch!”

“When did you become a member of the Disciplinary Committee?” Suguru teases while he slides in beside you to lean an elbow on your shoulder. You brandish the bottle, but he takes a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “You win this round, Squid. I won’t bother you or your ducklings for the rest of the day.”

Did you hear Nanami breathe a sigh of relief? You’re not sure. But you definitely hear Haibara squawk loudly. You look over your shoulder, watching as Nanami takes the chance to escape and books it away from the scene, practically dragging his classmate along with him. You can’t say that you blame Nanami. You know other people tend to think that Satoru is a lot to deal with and now that he and Suguru are so close…at times, they’re downright unbearable.

With an irritated sigh, you ask them, “Can you stop with the duckling thing?”

“Why? Worried you’ll get another nickname, Mama Duck?” Satoru taunts.

You won’t tell him that he’s right.

“The real question,” Suguru interrupts as he gently tugs at the strap of your backpack, “is where are you going?”

“A date,” you answer bluntly.

“What?!” Satoru yelps.

Suguru quickly follows up with, “With who?!”

“Talk about Mama Duck,” you mutter.

“Papa!” Satoru whines. Because he’s still on the ground, he starts tugging at Suguru’s pants—more like a child than the mother he pretends to be. “Sketch is in her rebellious phase!”

“You’re not reading any of my Ouran manga anymore.” In preparation for the anime adaptation that’s about to premiere, you’ve been burning through the manga. And Satoru once declared that he wanted to read what you did because he wants to know what kind of things you like, so he’s been reading it along with you. “I’m meeting up with Shoko. We’re getting our nails done and grabbing food.”

“Boo.” Satoru leans back on his hands with a huff. “Suguru, let’s go on our own date to make them jealous!”

“You guys are extra childish today.” You put a hand on your hip. “If I stop at the konbini on my way back, will you cut it out with the temper tantrums?”

“Rude.” You wait. Suguru and you stare at each other. He’s the one to crack first. “Some unadon, please.”

“Parfait!” Satoru chirps.

“Actual food, Satoru,” you and Suguru intone at the exact same time.

“Ugh. Fine. A katsu sandwich and the parfait.”

“Good boy.” Satoru has an interesting reaction to your praise. His face turns bright red, probably out of chagrin. He jerks away from your hand that’s reaching out to ruffle his hair and yanks his legs up against his chest. You hold your hands up like Suguru had done not long ago. “Sorry,” you quickly apologize. “I should’ve asked before I tried to touch.”

“It’s not that!” Satoru snaps his head to the side, looking away, scowling at nothing. “You know that you and Suguru are allowed to touch me whenever! But don’t talk to me like I’m a dog! Jeez!”

You cock your head to the side. “Is that how it came off? I was being genuine. You usually put up more of a fuss when we try to get you to eat regular food.”

“Squid.” You turn to look up at Suguru. There’s this weird smile on his face as he watches Satoru. Forced, maybe? But then he turns his attention back to you. “What time are you meeting Shoko? Shouldn’t you get going? I don’t want you to freak out over being late because we held you up.”

Your eye twitches. “But you’ll hold up our juniors from going to class?”

The tension in his smile melts away for something coyer. “We want to welcome them. Get to know them better since they’re in the dorms with us now. Isn’t that the responsible thing to do as their upperclassmen?”

“I can’t believe you preached to them about how important our roles are, but you want to interrupt their studies.”

“It’s nothing official,” he tries to dismiss. “Sensei won’t throw them to the wolves on their first day. They could catch up once the term starts.” He raises a brow. “I can’t believe you preached to them about having fun when they can, but you want to keep them tucked away under your wing,” he throws back at you tauntingly.

You roll your eyes. “Go jerk each other off or something and leave the rest of us out of it.”

They’re both still sputtering when you walk away with a smug smirk.

Oh.

No wonder Satoru and Suguru had been so upset about the idea of you on a date. You’d completely forgotten that it’s cherry blossom season. There are definitely no open benches. Thankfully, you’re prepared! You brought a blanket in case the benches were still wet from the morning dew. You’re happy that you’re still early despite Satoru and Suguru’s distraction because you have time to hunt down a spot that’s as far away as it can be from other people on the open lawn.

You spot Shoko before she sees you. You stand up and wave a hand in the air to catch her attention. Around the stick in her mouth, she’s grinning as she approaches. Then, because you’re weirdly attracted to having assholes for friends, she asks loud enough for other people to hear, “Are we on an actual date, pretty girl?”

And, normally, you’d be embarrassed by that. Right now, though, when she’s close enough, you’re smacked in the face with the bitter smell of smoke. The end of what you thought was a candy stick is bright orange. “Shoko!” You flap a hand nervously in her direction, motioning toward that thing in her mouth. “You leave us for a month and you’re smoking now?!”

“Aw, man. I’d hoped getting you all flustered would’ve helped you ignore that.” She laughs easily. “Here.” She plops the plastic bag in hand on the blanket. “I wanted to drop this off before I go put out this cigarette. I don’t want us getting kicked out for me not being in the designated smoking area.” She waves a hand. “Be right back.”

You’re still in a tizzy when she gets back. “This is bribery,” you accuse when she’s close enough. When she’d proposed this, you suggested the both of you buying your own meals, but she insisted on paying. Now, you know why, and you also know why she got a bunch of your favorite foods and drinks. “I can’t believe you,” you continue to complain. “You’re going to be a doctor. You have surgeons as parents. What do they think about this?”

“They’re smokers, too.”

You huff in disbelief. “That seems…irresponsible.”

“They do have a kid that could heal any complications that come from it. That’s why I do it. I get the chemical rush and none of the damage. Seems like a win-win to me.” She plops down on the blanket next to you. “You’re not helping the Mama Duck allegations, y’know.”

Ugh. Having more than one friend sucks sometimes. If only they could move those online chatrooms to cell phones. You could scold them all at once about this weird obsession they have with giving you embarrassing nicknames. “It’s not bad to care about people!”

“You’re too sweet for jerks like us, pretty girl,” Shoko says with a laugh as she holds out okonomiyaki as an offering.

You eye the plastic container before you snatch it from her hands. “No octopus, right?”

“Vegetarian,” she replies. You smile brightly and flip the container open. Between the both of you chowing down, she asks, “Did you work on your technique over the break? Gotten anywhere else with it?”

“Ugh, yeah, and it’s gotten me in a weird place.” She raises a brow at your answer. You absentmindedly chew on the end of your straw. “I still can’t control them. It’s like I’m giving them a suggestion and the weaker they are, the more likely they are to listen to what I have to say.” You frown. “I was on an assignment with Suguru and another sorcerer last week, y’know. They used a shikigami.” You fidget nervously. “I pacified the shikigami and Suguru’s cursed spirit.”

Shoko nearly drops her drink from the shock. “Seriously?”

You nod. “We don’t know what to make of it. I could maybe understand Suguru since the cursed spirits are technically their own separate thing. It’s like an extreme master-servant deal. But with a shikigami…that’s just a physical form of a sorcerer’s cursed energy.”

“How easy was it?”

“Not at all. I passed out,” you admit sheepishly. “I thought I was pacifying the cursed spirit we were after, but…uh…I guess the other two were caught in the range. The shikigami was a lot easier, actually. It might have to do with the amount of cursed energy. When this was all happening, it felt like an uphill battle. Suguru has more cursed energy than me and it’s like I’m muting his connection, so I guess I’d need to overcome his. If he wasn’t so tired, I don’t think I would’ve won.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it all boils down to cursed energy.” You tilt your head in question. “Like…you’re suppressing cursed energy itself. Not only cursed spirits. What are cursed spirits if not a massive amount of negative cursed energy? If you look at it with that perspective, it only makes sense that you can pacify shikigami.”

“I want to say that it feels like you’re reaching, but…” Well. That’s the only logical outcome when you add up the pieces. It’s started now because you’re getting stronger, refining control over your own cursed energy. “I don’t like this,” you whisper when you start thinking too much. “Wouldn’t the next step be pacifying the sorcerer? I…I don’t want to control people.” You shake your head furiously. “No. I could never be that strong.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself there, pretty girl. If it boils down to a cursed energy match, you have a lot.” You try to wave the comment off. Sensei has mentioned something along those lines, too. “I’m serious. You can’t compare yourself to Gojo and Geto since they’re freaks of nature. You’ve got such an insane amount that you’re getting close to freak yourself. If you had a more threatening ability, you might be considered Special Grade.”

“Can we not talk about me anymore, please?”

“Alright, alright. Let me tell you about the fun I had over the break. They gave me access to the morgue.”

***

You’re…distracted…

It’s hard not to stare.

It was only a moment, but you still watch him intently. You’re reminded of those pictures that are drawn in such a way that you can see multiple interpretations and when someone points out their own perspective, you can never not see it anymore. This is like that. It doesn’t matter if you demand that he tuck his shirt in like some scandalized lady of the house from the Heian period because it’s burned in your brain now.

Such a small, simple thing. A flutter of his shirt when he leaped in the air to shoot the basketball, and you saw beneath the figurative curtain. And somewhere in the back of your brain, you knew that a simple belt wouldn’t be enough to hold up Suguru’s heavy, baggy pants, but it never clicked. Not until now. Not until you saw a flash of the high waist of his pants.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Why does it feel like your brain would be playing the old internet dial-up sound on a loop if someone could read your mind right now?

It was a waist! You didn’t even see skin! If you’re going to drool over something, it should be his arms. With his sleeves rolled up like that, you can see the few veins that run along his upper arms. With him holding a basketball like that, the size of his hands become more apparent. Suguru…really took that punch at last year’s Goodwill Event personally and he’s started to work out a lot more. You can tell. Not that he wasn’t fit before with all the farm work he did in the village, but…

Holy shit, what are you going to do in summer? You think you heard Satoru mention that they had more people to play basketball with now, so they could do teams, and…and don’t guys do the whole shirts versus skins thing? They wouldn’t with only two to a team, would they? What are you going to do? Suguru is more massive than ever now. More muscled than ever.

Is the heat still on? You’re so hot right now. And more than that…

“Yo! Sketch! Hey, look out—”

Something heavy thumps against the top of your head. You clutch at your head, watching the basketball bounce away, more flustered than hurt that you were…were…in a daze. Because you saw your best friend’s waist. When did Suguru get curves? Oh, no. Does this make you a pervert? You might be a pervert!

“Squid?”

The stupidly curvaceous man of the hour squats down in front of you. Hair has fallen out of his tight bun, bangs now framing both sides of his face. You duck your head, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. You watch his fingers twitch, but he puts his hands firmly on his big thighs.

“You lookin’ to get a new nickname, Sketch?” Satoru calls out as he approaches you and Suguru. “You’ll get one if you don’t stop being such a space cadet.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “You’re so caring, Satoru. Really, you’re dripping with compassion.” He shakes his head before moving his attention back to you, expression softening. “Are you okay? Is it a bad day?”

“Is it a crime to daydream?” You scramble for something to explain your behavior. “I don’t know. I…I was trying to remember what that cursed spirit looked like.” You shake your sketchbook. His brows furrow in confusion when he looks at it because it’s almost done. You panic. “Uh…like…did it have fur or not? I can’t remember!”

“It was scales…” Suguru informs you slowly. “Are you okay? Really? Not feeling sick or anything? You don’t usually forget big things like that when it comes to cursed spirits.”

The gym door slams open, the sound echoing, and making you yelp.

Sensei shouts all your names as if you’re in trouble…which, to be fair, you probably are since you were supposed to be spending this time studying in the library. Technically, you could spin the sketch as work since you are supposed to record curses that you encounter, but you don’t even want to defend yourself. You’ve never been more thankful to be in trouble in your life. Sensei has learned that the best punishment is to separate you all from each other. You need some room to breathe.

“Since you have so much energy to burn,” Sensei starts heatedly, “you can come help with the first years.”

“Ugh,” Satoru and Suguru groan in unison.

You smartly slide off to the side to make way for Sensei. He rushes forward to knock them both over the head as a reprimand for the rude response. The hit makes them drop to their knees and they accept that they’re in for a lecture. Sensei doesn’t demand the same gesture from you because he knows that you’ll stay where you are. You do tune him out partway through, though. This is definitely a lecture more targeted toward Satoru and Suguru because you’re more than happy to help with whatever the first years need.

When Sensei calls out your name, you snap back to attention. “You’ll spar with Satoru today,” he declares. It’s hard to retain your politeness. Turns out that you’re not exactly escaping, after all. It could be worse. He could make you run the track again which you hate because you don’t have anyone to keep you company, so you get bored just running in circles.

Then, you process his words fully. “Satoru?”

“Suguru is going to work with Nanami and Haibara today,” Sensei explains. “Satoru still needs a lot of work on his hand-to-hand combat.” Suguru snickers quietly while Satoru sputters at the, frankly, correct assessment. “You’re next best after Suguru. He’ll benefit from sparring with you. It might also help him with having some restraint.”

“What the hell, old man?!” Satoru shouts. “Suguru, shut up!” Clearly, Satoru isn’t that preoccupied with getting an answer. He just stomps out of the gym with a red face while Suguru quickly follows after him to pile on the teasing.

Both you and Sensei sigh when they’re out of sight—for different reasons, of course. Sensei goes on to scrub a hand across his face. You don’t doubt that he’s questioning his life choices right now. Kusakabe, when he visits Sensei and you escort him to where your teacher is, has told you that Sensei complains about how Satoru and Suguru are some of the most promising yet most frustrating students that he’s ever had.

“Sorry, Sensei.” You feel the need to apologize on their behalf. Sensei shoots you an irritable look now. One of your biggest lectures is to stop doting on Satoru and Suguru. “Sorry,” you mumble again with a wince. He stares at you a few seconds more before he heads out of the gym. You quickly follow after and step in line beside him. “Um…you said that we needed to get used to helping Nanami and Haibara more. Something about escorting them on missions?” That had caught your attention during the lecture. “When does that start?”

“I’m not sure,” Sensei answers honestly. “It depends on how today goes. Haibara’s family owns a dojo. Nanami has taken kendo classes since he was a child. I want to see how well they incorporate cursed energy into their techniques.”

Your brows furrow. “It’s been a month…” He hums in agreement. “We were going on our first assignments within a month.”

“Your class is a special case. You’re all extremely talented. Satoru and Suguru are in the process of being assigned Special Grade status. I’ve also been speaking with Kusakabe about putting your name forward for Grade 1 in the future.” Your eyes widen and your head snaps up to stare at him in shock. “Though, I’m not sure that you need the recommendation. Those at headquarters are very interested in your abilities. They’ll be speaking with you soon.”

“I…I don’t understand.” Your mind is spinning right now. “Why? What more can I tell them?”

Sensei stops and turns to stare at you like you’ve grown another head. “You discovered that the Red Room Curse exists as an extension of a cursed spirit’s technique. You used the break to research, something you didn’t have to do. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have known that it had created a cursed tool in the Taisho period. It was found yesterday, if you were curious. It’s been sealed away.”

You frown. “Doesn’t that just mean they should do more research themselves?”

“They should,” he agrees. But they won’t and now you’re here, he doesn’t say. You can do it for them. “Like any high schooler, you should start thinking about what you want to do after graduation. You and Shoko have more options open to you than the rest of your peers. As your name spreads at headquarters, it trickles down to the clans, so they may offer you positions, too.”

And you can’t help but blurt, “Couldn’t you have sprung this on me after sparring?”

Sensei chuckles softly. “It wasn’t meant to cause you stress. What you do or don’t do with your technique is up to you. This was to help you see your worth, more than anything.”

You blink at his honesty. “Y’know…you’re actually a good guy, Sensei.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he grouses.

“Ah, but it was?”

Sensei sighs. “I know.”

“This is stupid,” Satoru complains as the two of you stand off to the side and watch Nanami and Haibara throw themselves at Suguru. They try to clumsily infuse their moves with cursed energy which Suguru is quick to point out and guide them on how to better let their cursed energy flow. “Why not let the guy with a shield handle this?”

“The inconsistent shield?”

Ah, maybe that was a little too mean. Satoru is in a weird place. The last few months, he’s felt like he’s started to slide backward in terms of progress. He still can’t fire off his technique, Red, consistently. Whenever he does try, it leaves him exhausted. Not to mention that, suddenly, his Infinity has started to lower at the most random of times. Satoru has no reason why. Thankfully, it’s not a lot. Sensei and Shoko were honestly shocked because it’s never dropped around them. It’s only you and Suguru that have seen Infinity act up and Satoru wants to keep it that way.

Satoru doesn’t dwell on your words. “Not you too, Sketch! What’s with everyone bashing me today, huh?”

“Anyway.” You roll your eyes. “Getting hit is the point here. Suguru can feel their output better that way and correct them. And it’s not enough for them to hurt him.”

“I’m good at controlling and channeling my cursed energy, too!”

“Yeah, but you can’t explain it well.” Before he can loudly whine again, you interrupt. “For you, it’s so easy that you don’t think about it. It would be like explaining how to breathe.” You pause. “Also, you’re way too rude. You need to be delicate with these things and that’s impossible for you.”

“Is not!”

You turn to stare at him while you dryly ask, “Are you done stalling now?”

His cheeks are flushed with chagrin. “I’m not stalling!”

“Let’s get started, then. I want today to be over. I’m exhausted.” You are tired, true, but you mainly want to run and hide away in your room. Those…thoughts…about Suguru…they still linger in the back of your mind. You’re pointedly not trying to look at him specifically, instead focusing on Nanami or Haibara.

“Fine.”

Satoru makes a show of stomping away. You follow after him with a shake of the head and quiet chuckle. Just a little pushback from people for once and he can’t take it? Suguru will definitely give him more shit later. You wonder if Suguru will lecture him in the showers—

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Where the fuck did that come from? You’re so struck by your own brain’s train of thought that you almost trip over your feet. As you meet Satoru on the other side of the field, you purposely put your back to the first years. You pray that you won’t bump into them. You don’t know that you can stand to face Suguru right now. You’re done. This day has been weird and hellish. You’ll just have to apologize to Satoru later for your impending brutality. You can’t take it easy on him today if you want to be dismissed by Sensei as soon as possible.

“Start already!” Sensei shouts from the other side of the field.

You’re not sure whether Utahime would consider you a friend yet, but since Shoko has the hugest crush on her but is too scared to ask her on an actual date, you’ve spent a lot of time with the two of them. A favorite activity of hers is dancing. It makes sense because it’s an integral part of her technique. More often than not, when you and Shoko visit Utahime in Kyoto, you three end up dancing the night away in her apartment.

And you, practical person that you are, have started to infuse what you’ve learned into your attack style. It’s useful against people like Suguru and Satoru who are so much taller and physically stronger than you. Because, like all things, there are disadvantages to their size. You’re more nimble, more flexible. They naturally swing high which has you mostly going low—sometimes, even dropping to do the splits. When they try to kick, you can dance away or, if you react fast enough, you can catch their leg to sweep them off their feet.

It's been some time since you’ve sparred with Satoru, but that doesn’t mean you’re still not watching. You know how he fights, but today…it’s different. He’s as dodgy as you are. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that he’s pulling his punches. Never let it be said that he’s not a fast learner, so maybe he’s adjusting to match your fight style. He’s like a snake, trying to lash out to get his fangs in you, trying to wrap around you. You narrowly miss getting locked down when he snatches your sweatshirt by pulling yourself out of it.

Just when you think you have his moves down, it only gets weirder. His cheeks are pink. You didn’t think you were going hard enough at him to make him sweat, but maybe you’re wrong. Now, he’s purely on the defensive…or so you think. You should’ve known better. You make the mistake of trying to throw yourself fully on the offense. So, when you aim a high kick at him, he snatches your ankle and roughly yanks you.

It happens fast. You try to catch yourself with your hands, twisting your torso to try to get them on the ground. It doesn’t work in that respect, but it does hook your ankle around Satoru’s neck enough to tip him forward. The back of your head smacks against the ground painfully. The breath is knocked out of you when Satoru’s heavier body lands right on top of you.

“Ow, ow, ow, Sketch. You kicked my head!”

Words are stuck in your throat.

Because, suddenly, you have become hyperaware of your own body. And it’s not exactly like that’s…abnormal…but this…isn’t overstimulation. Or…maybe it is? A shiver runs down your spine. The points of contact where Satoru’s bare skin touches yours are like live wires—heated and sparking.

With the first few buttons of his shirt popped open, your cheek is smashed against his bare skin. Since you’re in a short-sleeve shirt, one of his stupidly huge hands are wrapped around your arm. And…and when he tries to lift away from you, his…his knee slips up and…accidentally nudges up between your thighs…

You bite down on your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes shut, but it’s not enough to hold back the tiny whimper in response to the rush of heat that zips up your spine.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Above you, Satoru goes rigid. You’re mortified. He heard. “Ow!” It’s all you can think to do. You hope that he falls for your desperate attempt to make that sound like a pained whimper. You need out of here. Fuck the consequences. You squeak out, “I yield!”

“Cool!” Satoru sounds as equally panicked as you do. “My prize is your sweatshirt!”

“Whatever! Can you m—”

There’s a burst of cursed energy. Then, you two become a dizzyingly mess of limbs. You yelp and instinctively grip at Satoru, but because he lifted his arm, his shirt rode up, so you’re grabbing at his bare waist and digging your nails in. He squawks at the rough treatment, trying to lean away, and his hand ends up groping one of your tits when he tries to get his bearings.

As soon as your sweatshirt that he pulled toward him with Blue is finally in his hand, Satoru moves away from you. He chokes when he’s yanked back viciously by the back of his collar. Suguru uses so much force that it briefly lifts Satoru’s knees off the ground. Satoru, weirdly, is protective of his prize because he only reaches back to swat at Suguru with one hand while the other keeps your sweatshirt pressed against his body.

“Satoru!” Suguru shouts. “What the hell? We don’t use cursed techniques in sparring—”

“I’m okay!” You scramble to lift yourself up from the ground. “I am okay!” You don’t know who you’re trying to convince, but Suguru isn’t buying it. You can’t blame him. There’s a tremble in your voice, sweat lining your skin, and your heart is pounding away in your chest. “I hope that everyone has a good sparring session! I’m done!”

Sensei and Suguru both call out your name, but you’re already power walking away from the field.

Despite what some people may think, you’re not stupid or naïve.

But…with how much time it took you to figure out what it was that you were feeling today since that time in the gym…you might be in denial.

In the communal showers, under the lukewarm spray of water, you have your hands pressed to your scalding hot cheeks. You continue to take deep breaths. None of this helps. There’s a very real urge to clench your thighs together. Because there’s a very real ache between them. Because your mind is an endless loop—sweat-slick skin and the hair stuck to it, flashes of skin from shirts ridden up, the outline of defined muscles hidden under white shirts, massive hands…

You slap your hands over your face which…doesn’t help. Since you’re alone, you crouch down without the fear of judgement. If you weren’t alone, you think you still wouldn’t care. You’re in the middle of a crisis. Is this a moral crisis? No. Wait. Oh, no. Is this what they call a sexual awakening?

No. That’s stupid. You’ve obviously felt desire before. Kind of. It was about as lukewarm an experience as the water that pounds against your back right now. Your thoughts had been scattered, nowhere in particular, so maybe that’s why it’d been dry—both literally and metaphorically.

This…this is so different from back then. This is warm. It’s heat. You’re throbbing. You didn’t think that you could ever feel this way. You’ve never wanted to touch yourself so badly. And that in itself isn’t a bad thing. You’ve never understood the point in shame over a natural bodily reaction and doing something to satisfy it. It never flustered you as much as your fellow classmates to hear the boys make sexual innuendos.

No, this shame comes from who you want to think about as you touch yourself. Even now, past your distress, you want to drop to your knees, slip your hand down between your thighs, and know what it’s supposed to truly feel like. But you know…you know that if you do that, their faces will be at the forefront of your mind.

You’re not supposed to think about Satoru and Suguru like this!

They are your best friends!

How the hell are you supposed to ignore this? You finally understand what some people mean when they say they feel like a cat in heat. It’s fine. You’ll just…get your mind off it. Ugh. So, going back to your room is a bad idea. If you’re left alone with your thoughts, you’ll never stop thinking about it. What can you do, though? Why is your go-to always hanging out with friends? You don’t want to be around people anymore. You’re so mentally exhausted now.

Right, okay, you’ll drop to your other default.

There was a bird nest in the big tree outside the classroom window. If you’re lucky, the mama bird will stay still long enough for you to draw her.

As always, drawing manages to knock you out of your head.

It calms you down to the point that between one blink and the next, you’re asleep. Not that you realize that until the ground falls out from underneath you and you jerk awake. There’s a part of you that knows whose arms you’re in, though, so your brain is still calm enough to try and drag you back to sleep.

With a sigh, you slip your arms around his neck and shove your face in the crook of his neck. “Sketchbook,” you mumble as almost an afterthought.

“I’ll come back for it later,” Suguru whispers. “You have to stop sketching outdoors when you’re so tired, Squid. You’ll catch cold.”

“Okay,” you agree sleepily.

Suguru chuckles quietly. “Forget it. I’ll lecture you tomorrow.”

***

“This one?”

You take a step to the side, almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Shoko. You hunch over to examine where she points at on the display case. It’s a cute tongue ring with a charm in the shape of a heart. “Pretty, but too flat.” She raises a brow in question. “I like it when they have the little ball on the end. See?” You open your mouth to physically show her the piercing and how you roll it against your teeth. “It’s really satisfying to play with.”

On the other side of the display case, Utahime clicks her tongue. “That could easily turn into a dangerous distraction.”

You tilt your body to stare at her through the crack of display cases. Deadpan, you ask, “You have a problem with my tongue piercing but not with Shoko’s smoking?”

“I’m trying to save you from her bad influence,” Utahime shoots back.

“Hey,” Shoko complains.

Then, hypocritically, Utahime points at her side of the case. “What about one of these?” Clearly, if she’s making suggestions then she doesn’t care all that much about your piercing…ah. Wait. She was joking. Maybe a little. You’re still trying to get a read on how Utahime communicates.

You step over to her side of the case. You can’t catch yourself before you let out a shudder and scrunch your nose in disgust. It’s a bead, sure, but it’s those rubbery ones with equally rubbery spikes. Just the thought of that touching the inside of your mouth is nauseating. “Um…thank you for the suggestion, but…no.” You try to keep it polite as to not offend her.

Utahime snorts. “Okay. Stick to metal.” She blinks. “Oh. What about this one?”

The price tag makes you internally cringe, but then you actually look at it, and you immediately know you want it. You have the money saved up for it, anyway. It’s probably plastic, but it’s shaped and shiny enough to look like it’s made of diamond. At that price, it might be made of that off-brand diamond. The charm on the end is in the shape of a dragon’s head.

Excitement surges through you. You practically bounce over to a store worker to have them unlock the case and take the tongue ring to the register. As soon as it’s paid for, you skip out of the store and make a break for the nearest restroom. Just as you have it torn open and are washing it with hand soap, Shoko and Utahime burst into the restroom behind you.

“You’re really excited about this,” Utahime remarks.

“Ahh.” Shoko finally gets a good look at the tongue ring when you hold it up in the light. “No wonder you’re so excited. It’s like a little rainbow dragon.”

The tongue ring almost goes down the drain when you nearly drop it. Looking over your shoulder, you glare at her. “That’s not it at all!” The defensiveness isn’t helping your case, you realize, so you turn back to the mirror. “Jeez, Shoko, not everything I do is about Suguru or Satoru! Can I not get something because it looks cool?”

In the reflection, you watch Shoko put her hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay, I didn’t mean to offend you, your highness.”

“Inside voice, please,” Utahime reminds you. Then, to Shoko, she says, “She’s right, y’know. Not everything has to revolve around those two. A woman can dress up solely for herself. We know Duck isn’t the type to make herself uncomfortable for someone else.”

Slowly, you move to face Utahime, expression blank. “What did you just call me?”

Shoko, smartly, uses Utahime’s embarrassed stream of apologies as a chance to escape.

You need new fucking friends.

As you and Shoko meander your way up the main staircase that leads back to campus, she casually asks, “So, what’s going on with you and Gojo?”

Ha. As if you’d admit the truth. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, pretty girl. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed how quiet Gojo’s been.” For a moment, you stupidly think that she’ll keep the focus on Satoru, but you’re not so lucky. “As for you…it’s hard to explain because quiet is your default, but you’ve been really…dodgy. Acting like a nervous wild animal that runs whenever someone gets close.” Oh, you are praying that she doesn’t connect the dots. No dice. “That someone is Gojo and Geto.”

“You know how they are, Shoko. They’re always so touchy. I haven’t been in the mood to deal with that,” you lie. Well. It’s part lie. What you can and can’t handle always goes day by day.

“No, see, I know that’s a lie. Like Utahime said, you never hesitate to tell us when you’re uncomfortable. If you’re having a bad day, you let us know about it.” Shit. “Geto and I are just trying to figure it out. This started after you and Gojo sparred. I thought maybe you’re scared of Gojo and Gojo is scared that you’re scared of him, but you two are acting weird around Geto, too. So, it can’t be that—”

You try to interrupt in as less a panicky way as possible. “It really isn’t that deep—”

“I thought it had to do with the giant crush that Gojo has on you, but like I said, he’s acting like a flustered virgin around you and Geto—”

“Crush?” Shoko holds out an arm to catch you when your foot catches a step the wrong way and you stumble forward. You jerk to face her, eyes wide with shock. “What are you talking about?! Are those cigarettes laced with something, Shoko? Do you need glasses or something?”

Shoko laughs. “Sure, the person that struggles with social cues is going to lecture me.”

“I’m not dumb.”

“When did I say you were?”

“What I mean is that I could tell if he has a crush on me. He’d act different around me, right? Satoru doesn’t know how to be subtle. Since he acts no different around me than he does anyone else, the only logical conclusion is he doesn’t feel any different for me, either.”

“I can’t believe you’re coming at this like a math problem. No. Actually, I can believe that.” She rolls her eyes. “First of all, emotions aren’t logical. Second, and more importantly, he absolutely acts different around you and Geto.”

You huff. “You just proved your point wrong. If he has a crush on me, he wouldn’t treat Suguru the same, would he?”

“Ah. Wait. You’re right. Unless…ooh.” She knocks one fist against her open palm as if she’s had an epiphany. You’re terrified to hear what she’s come up with. “Unless he’s got a crush on both of you. That’s what it is. It makes so much sense. Oh, man. I’ve got to talk to Nanami and Haibara now.”

Your head is spinning. “No, you’re not talking to them about this! I don’t even think there’s a word to describe how far you’re reaching right now, Shoko!” You shake your hands, desperately trying to get out your nervous energy. “Look, I’d understand if he has a crush on Suguru. They’d be a hot couple, okay? But don’t…don’t bring me into this! That’s…anyway, isn’t that cheating?” Your voice quiets. “Isn’t that…wrong?”

“It’s not like any of you are in a relationship. So, no, I don’t think it’s cheating. I still wouldn’t. Cheating is if the other person doesn’t know you’re involved with someone else.” She shrugs. “I might be a biased opinion. There are a lot of people who say that me liking girls is wrong. So, if everyone cares about everyone else involved, then what’s wrong with more than two people in a relationship?”

Oh.

Well, that’s…

You don’t know what to do with all this.

“Okay, that’s…that’s true. I can understand that. It’s like another one of those things that people worry about when there’s no reason.” She nods in agreement. “You’re still wrong about the crush thing, though. Why would someone have a crush on me? No one ever has. Why would they start now?”

“No one has had a crush on you that you know of,” Shoko corrects cryptically. “Are we going to ignore you called them hot?”

“Are you blind?”

“No. I’m gay.”

“Shoko, I like girls, too. It doesn’t make you less of a lesbian if you admit they’re aesthetically pleasing.”

“Sure, but their personalities are so awful that it just ruins everything else.”

“Are you sure that this isn’t just you being uncomfortable that it’s like looking in a mirror when you see them? You all have the exact same sense of humor. You’re definitely as much of an asshole as them.” She bursts out in a fit of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, keep laughing. You know it’s true.”

Shoko wipes at her tears of laughter. As she starts to walk forward again, she remarks, “You talk big, pretty girl, but you can be an asshole yourself.”

***

If there was one thing that Shoko was right about, it’s that you’ve been obviously skirting around Satoru and Suguru. For three nights straight, both your mind and body toss and turn as you try to figure out where this sudden awareness of their bodies is coming from.

Technically, you’ve been through this before with Suguru, but…was it to this degree?

It’d been one of those rare days that you were allowed to work out in the fields with your parents. When you’d hunted Suguru down to not be so bored as you pulled crops, he’d been hunched over with no shirt on. It wasn’t the first time that you’d seen him without a shirt, per se. You’d both gone swimming before…

You’re not sure what it was. Maybe it was like how your grandparents, who lived in a different village, would remark on how much you’d grown between monthly visits. You would look in the mirror every day, so the changes in yourself were infinitesimal compared to someone that only saw you once a month. It could’ve been that, on that day, your brain had finally caught up on all the ways that Suguru had grown.

That skinny boy with his bony elbows and knobby knees and short, wild hair had grown. He’d finally hit a growth spurt the year before and was taller than everyone else in the village now. He towered over you, skin golden and dripping with sweat. He’d started to slowly grow his hair out and it was long enough to be pulled back in a stubby ponytail. He hadn’t been as toned as he is now, but it was still enough for your eyes to follow along the subtle swell of his biceps.

Jeez, that had been the last year of middle school, you think. Are you having another one of those moments? Did Satoru get caught in the crossfire?

The real question is…why aren’t you as aware of everyone else at school as you are of them? Like you told Shoko, anyone with a pair of eyes can see that they’re aesthetically pleasing. You’ve known that Suguru is a heartthrob since middle school. But…so is everyone else at school.

Shoko is a bombshell. That beauty mark? That poster that had made you blurt out your attraction and caused your mother to smack you, you’re pretty sure the model had a beauty mark, too. Shoko has the whole femme fatale thing going on now that she’s smoking. It’s not like you can blame it on height thing, either. Nanami is as tall as Suguru, the both of them just barely under Satoru. Even with the…stoic loner vibe and haircut…he’s also very handsome. Ruggedly so. Haibara is boyishly handsome, too, and very fit since his family runs a dojo.

So, why?

Why is your body reacting like this to only them?

It’s fine, you tell yourself. You can acknowledge that they’re pretty. There’s nothing wrong with that. You are, as many adults have complained about before, a hormonal teenager. It’s a little embarrassing, your body fixating on them, but you need some good old fashioned exposure therapy. You miss the normalcy that comes with them. You’re bored without them around. Your brain will whip your hormonal body into shape.

The morning after you’ve made your decision, you, admittedly, might…go from zero to a hundred. Despite your exhaustion from the lack of sleep, you think this will be a good day for your senses. Knowing that Satoru and Shoko are the type to show up at the last minute, you rush to meet Suguru on his way to class.

When you see him, back turned, head ducked as he looks at his phone, bag over his shoulder, your feet speed up. And then you throw yourself at his back, locking your arms around his waist, squeezing him tight. Suguru is so surprised that his phone clatters to the ground, yanking out his earbuds.

Suguru lifts his arm up, looking under it, and you poke your head out further to show him it’s you. “Sorry,” you apologize meekly in regard to the fright. You crouch down to pick his phone and earbuds up.

“It’s fine,” he breathes out. “Someone is in a good mood this morning.”

“Sorry,” you repeat. “I feel bad now. You ask me if I want to be touched. I really should’ve done the same.”

“Should I renew my blanket permission? You don’t have to ask me.”

“Permission renewed.”

Suguru chuckles lowly as he tries to turn around in your arms. You take a step back, letting him have room, but you don’t make it very far. He snatches your wrist and yanks you back toward him, making you squeak in surprise. He wraps you up tight in his arms. Your body is tense, you know, only made worse by the rapid beat of your heart and heat prickling across your skin, but you’re trying not to act weird.

“Sorry for being…” You don’t know how to describe it without being incriminating. “My head has been in weird places.”

“Why haven’t you talked to me about it?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you mumble before pressing your face against his chest.

“Since when did you start to feel shame?” Suguru teases. You dig your fingers into his side meanly, knowing it’s a spot that gets him squirming. Sure enough, he tries to wiggle away from you. “Cut it out,” he demands with a laugh. You do as he asks. “Let me be serious, Squid. I want you to talk to me, okay? Have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself or say what you want around me?”

“…no,” you admit after a pause.

“Why start now, then?” His grip around you goes unbearably tight. He buries his face in your hair and confesses, “I was worried that I scared you with how rough I got with Satoru.”

“Suguru!” You fist your hands in the front of his blazer and shove him away enough to make him look at your face. “That might be the most offensive thing you’ve ever said to me!” His brows furrow in confusion. You nearly shake him. “I will never ever be scared of you, okay? I think it’s physically impossible for my body to think of you as a threat.”

Suguru raises his arms in defeat. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Squid. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.”

“You’re the most important person to me. Why wouldn’t I take that personally?” You step back and cross your arms over your chest. “How would you feel if I asked if you were scared of me?”

“It might actually be physically impossible for you to look scary.”

“Never mind. I’m not talking to you anymore,” you declare with a huff before you start stomping away.

Suguru chases after you with a laugh.

The next day, in the late afternoon, you’re on your way to the bus stop, planning to head into the city for something to eat. You like this bus. Since the school’s campus is so far out, the bus is smaller, and there’s only one seat per aisle. No one will sit next to you. You don’t have to make small talk, either. You finally dropped money for a MP3 player, so when you have earbuds, you’re simply written off as a rude teenager and usually aren’t bothered.

At the torii gate, though, your dinner plans change because Satoru is waiting for you with your sweatshirt over one arm and a bag of takeout dangling from his other hand.

The two of you sneak inside an empty classroom, glowing orange with the afternoon sun. He shoves a desk in front of the one you sit at, giving you both room to eat the ramen he bought. Wordlessly, he passes you the sweatshirt. At first, you were confused over how he even got it, but you realize it’s the one from when you two sparred. It’s still warm, you think, and smells like the really expensive laundry detergent.

Unthinkingly, you shove your face against the fabric, taking a lungful and soaking in the soft warmth. You rub your face against it. Satoru snorts before he speaks directly to you for the first time in…a few days, probably. “It’s like looking at a kitten.”

“That’s rich when you’re cuddling with those soft Digimon plushies,” you grumble. You carefully fold it up and shove it down in your bag. “You didn’t have to wash it, y’know. What? Did you spill something on it or stain it or something?”

Satoru shouts, “No!” His face is bright red, though. The reddest that you’ve ever seen it. It’s answer enough.

“Don’t be so defensive. It’s okay if you did.” Your leg is bouncing from nervousness. This is so bad. You shouldn’t be nervous around best friends. “Are we done being weird around each other?”

He is pointedly not looking at you as he divvies out the plastic containers. “I’m…um…I guess I should apologize first. I didn’t scare you or anything, did I?”

You blink, honestly confused and trying to figure out why you’d be scared. “It was just Blue?”

“Yeah, but still…”

“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” You break your chopsticks apart but pause. “I’m more disappointed than anything. Using your technique because you’re too lazy to walk and get my sweatshirt? What if the school was suddenly attacked and you didn’t have any cursed energy left because you’ve been flinging it around everywhere?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Do you even know how much cursed energy I have? Using it here and there isn’t going to kill me. And what kind of hypothetical is that, anyway? This is the safest place in the jujutsu world.”

“The Special Assault Team could storm campus with machine guns or something.”

“Okay, then I’d have Suguru use Hong to deflect the bullets while something else in his arsenal eats them.”

You shake your head. “And he’d do it, too. For all the lectures he gives you about being spoiled, he’s the worst.”

“Heh! So do you,” he sings.

The worst part is that he’s right. Still, you feel the need to defend your honor. “Who can say no to the jujutsu world’s prettiest princess? Lord Gojo is such a demanding little thing. No one wants to deal with one of his tantrums.”

“I know you’re trying to be an asshole, but I am the prettiest princess in all the land.”

The two of you continue to make innocent jabs at each other while you eat. In the middle of dinner, Suguru texts, asking where you are and what you’re doing. You tell him, knowing that he’ll be here sooner rather than later. Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, he’s at the doorway in baggy sweats and a big white shirt. His long hair is down, still dripping. Did he seriously come here from the showers?

You swallow, a lump in your throat. It’s fine. This is fine. His nipples are hard and poking against his shirt, but that’s a natural bodily response. Just like how you squeeze your thighs together.

Fuck. You need to run your mouth before this gets weird. “You need to blow-dry your hair. You’ll get sick, walking around with wet hair.”

Suguru’s eyes narrow. “Are you lecturing me? Miss Barefoot-in-Snow?”

“I like to see my footprint in the snow and the crunch is nice.”

“Wear socks, at least.”

In unison, you and Satoru give a scandalized, “And have wet socks?!” You’re too busy shuddering at the thought, so Satoru continues on your behalf. “It’s like you want her to die!”

“Remind me to put my blazer over any puddles that you might have to step in, Lord Satoru,” Suguru says dryly.

“More proof to the princess allegations,” you mutter.

Satoru harrumphs. “I never denied being a princess.”

Suguru fully steps inside the classroom, approaching you both, grabbing a chair along the way. “I don’t even want to know.”

***

A month of normalcy passes, and you naively think that all is right in the world once again.

It’s been an exhausting day.

As it happens when the weather starts to warm up, cursed spirit activity is on the rise again.

For Nanami and Haibara’s first mission, you are the one tasked with their supervision. You weren’t anyone’s first pick, but there was no other choice. The more experienced sorcerer assigned was called away last minute to handle a higher grade. There’s a situation somewhere in Hokkaido, potentially Special Grade. A lot of sorcerers have been seriously hurt, so Shoko went with Satoru and Suguru.

You were given one hell of a lecture when you argued with Sensei about him going with the first years instead. A chance to study a Special Grade? You didn’t want to pass that up! Then, maybe you hadmade a bitchy remark about how a potential promotion to principal is getting to his head.

Anyway, the assignment with the first years went fine.

You were lectured yet again, this time by Haibara of all people. There’s a possibility that you…sort of pacified everything in the area. In your defense, the briefing said there would only be a pack of low-level spirits. A separate, higher graded spirit must’ve been close by, heard the violence, and slipped past the veil to get in on the action. When Nanami was smacked away with enough force that he cracked the wall he landed against, you panicked.

Ugh. You’re definitely not beating those Mama Duck accusations anymore.

You force yourself through dinner with them because you wanted to be polite and felt like you owed them since you cut the mission short. It’s dusk, almost night, but the lights of the city and restaurant are still too bright. They decide on a place that’s packed and so loud. By the time you three step outside, you have a pounding headache and nearly fall asleep against Nanami’s shoulder because you’re drained.

After you’re showered and dressed for bed, you flop back on your mattress with a weary sigh. On instinct, you reach for your cell phone, checking for any new messages like you have been the last three days. It’s late. You don’t expect much from them. Satoru used Blue at maximum output three times, Shoko reported. Suguru swallowed the curse when it was weak enough. Satoru will be wiped out and Suguru will be in bed immediately to digest the curse.

Everyone has been sending you pictures. The most recent and most likely last batch of the night are from Shoko. One that shows three bottles of nail polish, one that shows Suguru and Satoru hunched over as they paint their nails, a zoom-in of Satoru with his tongue poking out in concentration, and the last a shot of everyone’s finished nails. Satoru chose an electric blue, Suguru went with black, and Shoko has a baby pink color.

You spend way too long staring at that picture. There’s something in the pit of your stomach, seeing Shoko’s hand so close to theirs. It’s small compared to theirs. You wish that it could be your hand there. You want to run the tip of your finger along the line of their prominent veins. You’d hold both your hands up so they could press one of theirs against it, just to see how much they dwarf your own. What would the fit be like if you laced your fingers through theirs?

Your phone chimes with a text from Suguru. Face hot, you quickly back out of the conversation with Shoko, feeling guilty for a reason you can’t pinpoint. As soon as Shoko told you that Suguru swallowed the curse, you immediately texted Suguru, wanting to check in and remind him to remember to grab some instant rice for the morning. It’ll be easy on his stomach. You made him send a picture as proof. After he did, he wanted to know if you’d eaten yourself. You sent a picture of your meal. Suguru hadn’t responded to that text until now.

I’m proud of you for going out. I always worry about you being lonely, his text says. You’re about to roll your eyes at his mother hen tendencies, but then his next message rolls in. Be a good girl for me until I get back. Night, Squid.

The phone slips out of your hand, the edge of it landing painfully on the bridge of your nose. You jerk up from the mattress, clutching at your nose. Why is your face on fire? He…he was teasing, right? Be a good girl for me. They…they were just some words. You shake your hands, trying to dispel the sudden surge of panicked energy. Be a good girl for me. Great. That’s stuck in your head now. Shit.

Goodnight, Suguru, you reply back with slightly sweaty fingers. Sweet dreams.

Eh. They’re never that sweet without you around.

Is…is this…no. No. This isn’t flirting. It’s just…being a friend. That’s something friends would say, right? Yeah. This is just another roundabout way of saying that he misses you. Yeah, yeah. I miss you, too, you send back. Maybe some of Satoru’s sweetness can rub off on your dreams.

Fingers crossed. See? Friendly banter. If he was flirting, he wouldn’t pull Satoru into the conversation, right? I’ll text you in the morning when we’re leaving.

Rolling over on your side, you curl up into as much of a ball as you can and shove your face against your pillow. You have to stop yourself when you realize you’re rubbing your feet together again because you can’t fall asleep like that. Just go to sleep, you tell yourself.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Over and over and…

…the mattress dips down. One side and then the other. You’re on your belly, arm shoved under the pillow that your face is still shoved into. You tilt your head to the side, eyes still closed, too exhausted to open them. You know these bodies that press up against each side of your own.

Someone’s hand presses against the small of your back and it’s almost like lightning shoots up your spine. In nothing but your sports bra, it’s bare skin against bare skin. But that’s nothing compared to the rush that comes when he leans down to press a kiss to where his hand previously was, so close to your ass, to your…

“Be a good girl,” Satoru quietly sings as the tips of his fingers land on the back of your calf. Your fingers are clenching the sheets. You gasp as his fingers teasingly begin to meander up your legs. Dancing around your inner thighs. “Mm, you’re the prettiest princess in all the land.” Oh. Oh. He’s so close. He’s going to feel how wet you are. “Heh, hell yeah, I am. Are you as pretty down here as you are everywhere else?”

“Satoru,” you gasp before you shove your face back against the pillow.

Another hand splays around the back of your neck, slipping up and around, cupping the side of your face. When he guides you to turn your face back toward him. A thumb runs along your bottom lip, dipping inside your mouth. Just a tease, though. You’re the one that sucks it back into your mouth.

“Such a good girl,” Suguru whispers against your ear. “Sweet girl.” He pulls his hand away, fingers teasingly running along the band of your sports bra.

“Suguru.”

“Let us handle it.”

And your eyes open before they’re closing again. You’re rolling your face against the pillow. As you’re clinging to the last vestiges of your dream, you don’t quite yet comprehend that it’s your hand shoved down your shorts. The line between dream and reality is a blur.

Sheets tangled around your legs are what you imagine what it would feel like to have theirs around yours instead. Your warm breath that fans out across your face as you’re panting against your pillow could be mistaken as theirs while they’re whispering into your ears. The heat inside you is almost unbearable, pitching up into a fervor, only spurred on by the desperate rolling of your hips. It’s like liquid fire rushing through your veins, burning and burning as you hump your hand.

Finally, blissfully, you are overwhelmed by pleasure.

It all crests. Your entire body locks up and trembles. In an attempt to chase after the addictive yet fading sparks, you try to jerk your legs up to get up on your knees, but it’s too soon after your limbs were locked up. Your leg painfully cramps and throbs and you’re fully thrown out of the dream’s clutches.

Clutching at your throbbing leg, you roll over on your back and stare up at the ceiling while you suck in shaky breaths.

What did you do?

What did you just do?

All you can really think to do is shout, “Fuck!”

You’re not there when they return the next day. Just before six in the morning, Sensei called you and said that you needed to report to Kyoto as soon as possible. If you’re honest with yourself, you’re thankful that you don’t have to see them today which only adds to the guilt that’s set in the pit of your stomach like a stone. Why couldn’t this be like a normal dream that fades away before you’re out of bed?

A better question—why did you have a dream like this to begin with?

There’s a Kyoto manager waiting to pick you up from the train station. Before you slip in the car, they hold out a hand. “I’ll need your phone.”

“Excuse me?”

Their eyes seem cold, but you try to convince yourself that’s not the case. You don’t do well with catching on to how other people feel and often mistake cold with cordial. “You’ll be meeting with a few of the higher-ups.” Your eyes widen. And you have nothing to be in trouble for, but your heart rate picks up regardless. “These meetings are expected to be kept private, but your phone is confiscated as a precaution.”

“The higher-ups?” The manager nods wordlessly. “Why?”

“I wasn’t trusted with that information.” The manager steps aside and motions toward the open door. “I’m your escort. Have you had breakfast? They’ve permitted us to stop for something if you need it.”

You don’t take the manager up on the offer.

The higher-ups are already waiting for you when you make it to campus. There are only three in the room, none of them speaking, only sipping at some tea. You recognize Principal Gakuganji, but that’s it. Even worse, they’re seated around a chabudai. They’re not close enough to touch, but it’s still a much more intimate setting than if they were all behind a desk with you in a chair across the room.

Gakuganji states your name and then motions to the empty spot at the chabudai. “Sit.”

The three men introduce themselves—Gakuganji, of course, and the other two are elders of the Zen’in and Kamo clans. You don’t bother to remember their given names. You doubt that you’d ever be in the realm of familiarity with these people and, yeah, maybe you can’t read the room well, but you know they look down on you. Satoru has warned you about elders in clans and those high up on the food chain.

Superiority complex bigger than mine, Sketch, Satoru had said. And with nothing to back it up! They’re weak as hell! Even the geezers in my clan!

Gakuganji is the first to speak. “Yaga should have instructed you to bring your drawings and notes. Did you?”

“Oh. Um. Yes.” You reach inside your bag to pull out the sketchbook. It makes you twitchy when you place it on the table and Zen’in immediately reaches out to roughly grab it and slide it over in front of him. You try not to cringe when you see it slide through some tea that spilled over the rim of his cup.

You’re not allowed to watch Zen’in long. Gakuganji asks, “Is that all?”

“Pardon?”

“I was informed that you had multiple sketchbooks. You’ve kept them since before you entered Jujutsu High, correct?”

Zen’in grunts. “Is there any organization to this?” Your hands fist the hem of your skirt. The disgusted curl of his lip is downright offensive. You keep those pages clean. They’re not cluttered with doodles. You limit one curse to each page. You’ve always had neat handwriting. What more does he expect? “Tch. You’ll have to go through and identify which are with Geto Suguru.”

A cold chill runs down your spine.

“Have some patience, Zen’in,” Kamo snaps. “We’re here for more than that.” Kamo is the youngest which is to say that he’s probably barely hit the retirement age. He smiles at you. “I apologize on his behalf, young lady. Continue, please.” You suspect that he’s meant to be the one you warm up to.

Very suddenly, viscerally, you become keenly aware that you’ve stepped inside a room full of snakes. What’s worse is that a misstep isn’t going to poison you alone. Suguru’s shadow is in the room. You don’t quite understand why your instincts scream danger. Normally, you wouldn’t trust them. Something tells you that you need to right now.

“I threw those away,” you lie. You’re a good liar. With a naturally emotionless expression and flat tone, people have as hard a time reading you as you do with them. “I only had one with me before I became a sorcerer, but I threw it away. It was full and I didn’t see a need for it. It was too messy to be submitted.”

Kamo’s lips twitch. “It’s truly only that one?”

“There are six-hundred blank pages, so I planned for it to last a long time. I have another one that’s more personal. Just to work on my art.” You nearly breathe a sigh of relief. For once, your meticulous nature of keeping a hard line between what you use your sketchbooks for comes in handy. “Here.” You set your smaller, personal sketchbook on the table.” I apologize for not getting it out before. I thought you meant only what I’ve done with cursed spirits.”

Gakuganji takes your personal sketchbook, only briefly skimming through with pursed lips. “I’m sure you’ve been told, but you’re expected to turn in your work to headquarters when it’s full.” You nod slowly. “We’ve been getting feedback about you, not only from Yaga but from other sorcerers. You were the one that helped with the Red Room Curse, yes?”

“Yes.”

Zen’in snorts. “You’re telling me that old urban legend was real?”

“Walk us through your thought process,” Gakuganji requests without acknowledging Zen’in.

“The internet, in the scheme of things, is relatively new. In my studies, I’ve learned that cursed spirits tend to stay away from technology. They usually interact with it only to destroy it. So, the curse using the internet as a tool to curse and travel was a huge red flag to me,” you explain. “Legends and cursed spirits can go hand-in-hand. An existing spirit inspires a legendary monster or the negativity around a legend will create a spirit.”

“Imaginary vengeful cursed spirits,” Zen’in grunts. “We know.”

“Not always,” you correct curtly. His eyes narrow at you. “There’s that old saying…legends have a sprinkle of truth to them. It’s smart to look into these cursed spirits. An imaginary vengeful spirit could have actually started out as a regular vengeful spirit that’s connected to an area or bloodline which is what happened here. Someone cursed a relative in the Taisho era, the spirit bound itself to a red journal, and gained power until it found an easier, faster way to spread itself.”

Kamo hums thoughtfully. “There was another incident last week.” You already know the one that he’s talking about. “Has Yaga told you the outcome of the situation?” You shake your head. “Did the sorcerer on call with you explain what that cursed object was?” Another shake of the head from you. “That was one of the fingers of Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, and you were right about the seal being weak. The seal was reinforced.”

“I’m glad.”

“How did you know?”

“The activity of the cursed spirits in the area,” you lie again. Rather, it’s not the whole truth. But you’re worried that the truth could come off as a concern for them.

When you were in the range of that finger, something inside you just…knew. The cursed energy that radiated from it…there was a sense of anticipation. It’d been disorienting because the spirits in the area had the same feeling, too. It left you reeling and jittery from secondhand adrenaline.

These men don’t need to know that you’re feeling cursed spirits. No. Cursed energy. As the days tick by, you’re getting closer and closer to your dreadful theory being proven correct. You don’t want the higher-ups to come to that conclusion, too. You’re not sure what would happen if they thought you could influence anyone with a shred of cursed energy.

“We’d like to offer you an internship of sorts,” Gakuganji speaks up. “Each of the major clans have a storage of cursed objects, tools, and weapons. We do this so everything isn’t centralized to the school campuses, in case of a successful raid. Starting your third year, we’d like you to visit their main compounds and examine their collections.”

You catch yourself before you agree. “I would need cursed spirits to see how they act.”

“That’s not a problem for the Zen’in. We have a pit full of them.”

Again, you bite back the urge to ask this man why the fuck his clan has a pit of curses. “The pacification alters their behavior. It would only be effective if I hid myself from them, but that doesn’t protect anyone else in the compound. I don’t feel comfortable with that kind of risk.”

Kamo and Zen’in burst out in loud guffaws. The sudden noise makes you visibly wince. When they quiet, Kamo explains the hilarity by saying, “You’ll be in compounds with some of the strongest sorcerers in the world. We can handle some low grade cursed spirits.”

Your brows furrow. “Won’t there be children—”

Zen’in rolls his eyes and waves off your concern with a callous, “They need the practice.”

Is this seriously what it’s like to be born into one of these clans? These men are at the highest place in their clans, in jujutsu society. Better than anyone else, they should understand how rare sorcerers are. Why would they be so careless with the lives of their clansmen? You understand that this is ruthless work, and to coddle children can be a death sentence in itself, but this just seems cruel for the sake of cruelty.

Was Satoru’s world this cruel?

“I’d like a partner with me,” you force yourself to politely request. “Please.”

“One of the first years,” Kamo reluctantly agrees. Your mouth opens to protest, but he holds a hand up. “No Gojo will step foot on my clan’s compound. As for the Geto boy, it’s pointless. His control over cursed spirits is as manipulative as your pacification abilities, right?”

“Yaga says that Nanami Kento is showing promise,” Gakuganji adds.

“For once, I agree with Kamo. I’d burn my compound to the ground before I let a Gojo waltz in,” Zen’in spits on the ground, to which Kamo and Gakuganji make displeased noises. “And I’m not adding more fodder to the army of that brat with the Curse Manipulation.”

An offer, they say, but even you with your struggles to grasp social cues knows that this isn’t an option. No one in your position can say no to the higher-ups. With a smile that’s probably more of a grimace, you grit out, “Nanami will be fine.”

Sensei is in the longue outside the room where you met with the three elders. Said men who had been escorting you out, all rush on, leaving you in your teacher’s care. Not that you want to be around him right now. You might be more furious with him than the people you just met with. Sensei is next in line to be principal. He’s essentially a liaison with Lord Tengen. There’s no way he didn’t know what this conversation would be about. You wonder if he’s the one that suggested this.

Maybe you’re overreacting, but it feels like he’s stabbed you in the back.

There’s a lot that you want to say, but you won’t. There’s no point in it. It’ll only send you to your inevitable breakdown. You feel that rumble inside you. But…maybe you can get some answers out of Sensei before that happens. So, you demand to know, “Why are they like that with Suguru? He hasn’t done anything!”

Sensei drops down in a chair, sighing tiredly as he goes. “It’s…not only Suguru. This is a lack of trust in anyone that’s been marked as Special Grade.”

“Why? What did they do that was so wrong?”

“Do you know what it takes for someone to be considered Special Grade?”

“Anomalies in the system,” you recite. His own words, you might add.

“Yes, but there’s more to it than that. The truth is that Special Grade sorcerers are those who have potential to devastate. You’re a logical girl. You can understand that Suguru has access to an army. Satoru, when he’s at his full potential, will most likely be the strongest sorcerer of the modern era—”

“Fear,” you spit. “This is fear.”

“Yes,” Sensei confirms without a beat. “They’re afraid. There’s currently only one other Special Grade sorcerer. Before this generation, the rank Special Grade had only been reserved for cursed spirits. To suddenly have so many, and all at once, it’s only made the higher-ups more afraid.” He hunches over, putting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not fair, I know, but this is how it has to be. That much power comes with certain responsibilities.”

Your fists clench. “I understand that, Sensei, but where’s the trust? All our lives, we’ve been…no one has ever trusted us. We came here because we wanted to be around people like us. We wanted to be accepted. What’s different between our village and here? Nothing. Sometimes, I think it’s worse. We’re not weapons. We’re people.”

“They know that.”

At your breaking point, you shout, “Do they?!” There’s so much more you want to say. I’m not spying on Suguru. I’ll lie on every single one of those pages that I send to headquarters. Somehow, you have the wherewithal to realize that that’s not a smart idea. Sensei is on your side, but not as much as you thought before. He’s chained by the higher-ups. “I’ll make my own way back to Tokyo.”

And you make sure to slam the door on the way out.

As you’re storming out of the building, you throw your hood up and shove on your sunglasses. You’re storming through campus with a trembling bottom lip and tears slowly trickling down your cheeks. You had hoped that it would be dead, but you’re not that lucky. There are a few students, a few more mature sorcerers, and you keep your head ducked down. You’re biting your lip raw to hold back the sobs threatening to spill out.

You make it as far as the outside of Kyoto High’s barrier before you can’t take it anymore and duck off the path. You drop down on a small boulder and cry. Between gasping breaths and desperately trying to wipe away tears that won’t stop, you pull out your cell phone.

Because you can’t do it. You can’t be around strangers. A two-hour bullet train ride is too daunting. Thinking of the smells of meals that people eat to pass the time, of the noise from even whispered conversations that would be loud to your overworking mind, of only an armrest separating you from another person and how that would make your skin crawl. An even worse hell would be a grueling five-hour drive with a manager back to Tokyo.

Please come pick me up, you text with trembling fingers. Not even thirty seconds later, your phone is ringing, but you quickly deny the call. No, you rush to text. Can’t talk, you add before he gets the wrong idea. Crying too hard to talk, you admit. The confession only makes you sob harder, of course. You can put your fist through monsters, but you can’t talk on the phone with your best friend without bawling like a baby.

Okay, Suguru responds back. I’ll take Hong there.

Manta ray back? I don’t want to be around people.

Whatever you want.

Thank you, Suguru.

Through the canopy of the trees, you see the glitter of Hong’s rainbow scales. You’ve managed to stop crying. And you thought that you’d be okay, but seeing the concern on Suguru’s face when he finds where you’ve hidden yourself away just brings it all back.

At this point, it’s not even so much the meeting. This is pure frustration with yourself. It’s shame and embarrassment. Just a little stress and you buckle. You hate this body. You hate this brain. Why can’t you be stronger? Why can’t you push yourself through the pain? Why does there have to be pain at all?

Suguru doesn’t speak. He sits down in front of the boulder, leaning his back against it. You spread your legs, allowing his shoulders to fit between them. He knows your tights are a barrier from skin contact, so he can freely lean his head to the side, resting against the inside of your knee.

Then, Suguru waits in silence.

You need his rock-solid presence but can’t bear him watching you in this pathetic state. It only makes things worse. Normal people would want to be comforted, to be hugged, but that’s just more stress. You can’t talk like this, so you feel stupid. You feel eyes on you, so you cry harder because you’re ashamed that you got here in the first place. If you were back on your campus, you would hide yourself away in your room until you’re calm. That’s not an option here.

And…and Suguru knows this. He knows you. He won’t look at you, won’t acknowledge that you’re breaking down. Why are you so kind? You think of those three stupid, old men. How can you be afraid of someone so kind?

“Su—” you choke on his name. You can’t speak past the lump in your throat. Angry that you can’t even manage his name, you ball up your fist and start banging it against your thigh. Like that can make your body cooperate. Or…it’s punishment. It might be that.

“Squid,” Suguru whispers as he reaches out to gently take your wrist. “I know you’re mad at yourself, but don’t do that. Why don’t I tell you about the cursed spirit we saw? We can make a game of it. I try to describe it. You try to draw it.” You shake your head furiously. “You’re stuck in the loop, aren’t you? Don’t you want out?”

The loop, you call it. The way you’re stuck in an endless cycle of berating yourself for being like this. You’ll never stop unless you have a distraction and his presence isn’t enough.

When Suguru hands you your sketchbook and a pencil, you take it.

There are a lot of tear stains on the paper by the time you calm all the way down, but it does the trick.

“Eh? That doesn’t look like it at all,” Suguru mutters when you hand him the finished product. “I didn’t think I was this bad at descriptions,” he remarks with a chuckle. “Still cool, though.” Slowly, he gets to his feet, patting his pants down to get all the dirt off. He turns around and holds out a hand to you. “Ready to go?”

You take his hand as an answer.

You don’t let go.

Suguru’s eyes widen a little when you thread your fingers through his. The two of you stand there for a minute before he’s squeezing your hand and guiding you back out to the main path. A manta ray spirit is waiting there for you both, low enough that you can step on it. You’re forced to let go of his hand, but you don’t want to lose that point of contact. You’re seated behind him, cross legged. You slip your arms around his waist from behind and press your forehead against his back.

Suguru covers his hands with yours and never stops during the whole ride back.

***

You decided that you wouldn’t tell anyone about the details of that meeting until you absolutely had to. The parts of it that you had to agree to, anyway. You won’t talk about them wanting you to spy on Suguru and keep track of his spirits because you’re not doing that. It’s an invasion of privacy that you refuse to be part of. Unlike the higher-ups that see Suguru and Satoru as tools to be kept track of, they’re your best friends.

Eventually, they’ll notice that you’re not marking which spirits are his. You’ve already started to come up with excuse—you forgot, you’re too focused on capturing the spirit on the page, you had it in your mind when you were preparing them to be sent to headquarters but forgot it. They’ll catch on, probably. After that, you’ll just lie. And it kills you inside a little, but you’ll have to stop marking the date on them. It really will make it harder to remember which assignments were with Suguru and which weren’t.

Suguru knows not to ask you about what made you so upset. Maybe he’ll give a half-hearted try in a week or two, but it’s too fresh. You’ll only get upset when you remember all the negative emotions that came with a breakdown. The only smart thing those old bastards did was to have you meet with them on a Friday.

It’s Sunday now and you feel a little better. Your defiance has helped mute your anxiety a little, you guess. After going the rest of Friday and all of yesterday without speaking, you think you can manage it today. Words don’t feel as heavy. It’s not as much a daunting task as it was before. Just like going to spend time with Satoru and Suguru is a little less tiring. That’s the thing, you love to hang out with them, but it still drains your battery. It doesn’t drain as fast or as much as it would if you were around some random strangers, but down goes that metaphorical battery all the same.

Satoru is already at the meeting place—one of the many koi ponds sprinkled around campus. You don’t want to deal with grass against your skin today, so you spread out a spare blanket from your room. Satoru hums before he’s scooting over to sit down on the blanket next to you.

The two of you are side-by-side, watching the occasional koi break the surface with a splash. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Satoru rocks back and forth, fidgeting with the hem of his pant legs. You’re not surprised when he finally asks the question because you’ve been expecting it. “Are you okay?”

“Better,” you answer honestly.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Oh.” From the corner of your eye, you see him frown. “Is it…because it’s me? I know I’m not good with…feelings and stuff. I can just fuck off if you wanted to just spend time with Suguru and talk and stuff…”

You smile. It’s small but sincere. “It’s not that, Satoru. If I wanted to talk about it, I’d feel okay doing it with you, too. But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to cry again.”

He cringes. “Yeah, I don’t want you to cry, either.” He’s at the edge of the blanket and starts picking at blades of grass. “Is there anything I can do so that doesn’t happen again?”

“No,” you answer honestly. You’re surprised to see him flinch, like you’re hurting his feelings. He usually has thick skin. Ah, but he’s also used to being the answer to everyone’s problems. You don’t think there’s much that he can’t do. “The breakdowns are a part of me. There’s always going to be a potential to have one.” You pause. You’d rather not have him stress over this. “I can try to ask for help before it gets to that point, though. I don’t know—can you extend Infinity to protect others?”

“Ha, no. Not yet.”

“Well…I could use your blackout glasses? Light makes me the most sensitive.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, same.”

“I won’t use them, then.”

“I can handle it for a little bit if it’ll make you feel better,” he mumbles. “I kinda get what you’re going through. I used to get super overwhelmed when I was a kid, before I could control Infinity. I would get really angry, though. There were a few times that I’d grit my teeth so hard that I’m shocked now that my teeth didn’t get chipped. I guess a part of me was scared to cry in front of tutors, so I’d be angry instead.”

You do the thing that Suguru stopped you from doing when you were in the midst of it—beating a fist against your thigh. “I get mad, too. Just at myself.” Your brows furrow. “Oh. I get angry before that point, I think. Sometimes, when I’ve been by myself, I’ve punched walls.”

Satoru’s shoulders slump. You think…is that a sigh of relief from him? “I don’t feel so bad now,” he admits embarrassedly. “The clan was kind of understanding how sensitive I am with lights because of the Six Eyes, but…they never really got how much everything else built up.” He’s fidgeting even more, uncharacteristically nervous. “I never wore tabi socks with my yukata when I went out, in case there was some water somewhere. I hate how clothes feel on my skin when they’re wet. It’s…clingy.”

It’s slowly dawning on you. Curious, you ask, “How do you feel about cotton balls?”

You watch a shudder roll down his spine. “After my first cavity, I made sure I’d never get another one. I almost sent the dentist across the room with Blue when he put those things in my mouth.”

“Eye contact?”

“Ugh, I hate that stupid shit. My old man meets with people from other countries, and they’re obsessed with it. I’m so lucky I’m in Japan.” He sticks his tongue out in disgust. “I wish I was around you when I was a kid. The sunglasses idea saved my life and my reputation. Now, people can’t figure out where I’m looking.”

“Reputation? You have one of those?”

“Rude,” Satoru complains and pokes you insistently. “People think you’re all sweet, Sketch. You’re as much of an asshole as I am, y’know. People just forgive you because you have that pretty face and cute smile. It’s the same with Suguru, too. You’re both the golden kids!”

Your heart skitters at hearing pretty face and cute smile, but he included Suguru. It’s just an observation. An exaggeration in your case, definitely, but whatever. “It’s not being an asshole. I’m just blunt.”

“So am I!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, and I’ve also studied other people, so I know what’s too far.” You hesitate. “Usually.” Another pause from you before you finally settle on a reluctant, “Sometimes. But definitely more than you.”

He’s pouting at you. “You could be nice and teach me.”

“You don’t care enough to learn.”

“I care about people!”

“I know that.” Hmm, how do you explain it? “I’ve kinda learned from seeing you interact with Nanami and Haibara that you use that bluntness as a way to help. Put you and, say, Suguru together. You both see the same flaw and point it out. You’re not as nice as Suguru, but you don’t waste time with niceties. They’re there to learn and be critiqued. It’s not a good idea to inflate their egos. That gets people killed.”

Satoru nods enthusiastically. “See? See! You get it!”

You rush to add, “But…you should give them encouragement. It sucks to constantly be told how you’re not doing things right. I know that way too well. Just ask Suguru.”

“You’re way too soft for this line of work, Sketch.”

This day is important, though you won’t realize that until much, much later. But isn’t that how life is? Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that.

Today is the last day that you will see Satoru and Suguru smile genuinely for a very, very long time.

[theolivetree123]

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(More under the cut!)

Event Summary

When Elias was younger, he always loved to read fairytales. Yet, there was one book that told a story that stuck with him till the present day. The story was about a creative and joyous mouse who, while asleep, dreams of himself on a spectacular journey through the depths of his own imagination. Elias loved that story, but as the years went on, the book fell into obscurity. No one in all of Twisted Wonderland seemed to know anything about this book! Elias thought he had been dreaming about it for years until he saw the same book in NRC's library. Though it was covered in dust, Eilas still felt the exact same spark that he had felt when he was little. As to not let the story fall into obscurity again, Elias begged Crowely to find a way to let people know about the book, yet Crowely couldn't help him. Elias almost ran out of ideas until he remembered a rhyme his mother would tell him.

Here in your mind

It’s magic you’ll find

When out of the night

Dark forces ignite

To blind you with frightening schemes

If you use your might

To brighten the light

You'll create night of wondrous dreams

This inspired Elias to put matters into his own hands. With funding from Kalim, Elias sought to put on a wonderful water and light show spectacular as a homage to his favorite fairytale. But, he will need actors and dancers! Help Elias create a nighttime fantasmic!

Actors and Dress Code

In the fairytale, the magical mouse goes on a trip through his mind. In his dreams, he sees wondrous, beautiful, and dangerous things. Since this live show is supposed to be inspired by that story, Elias would like all actors to dress appropriately for whichever part you may be going for. Of course, there is still a lot of room for you to be creative!

In this show, Elias will be playing the part of the mouse, who, fast asleep, dreams that he is a mighty sorcerer's apprentice with the power to control water, color, and magic.

In the original story, the mouse sees things such as:

A vibrant jungle

Elephants on parade

A Genie who can grant any wish

A large ocean with all sorts of creatures

Pirates

Fairies

Beautiful princesses

Evil monsters

Powerful dragons

With these in mind, you can decide how you want to be perceived in Elias's dream! Do you want to be a beautiful prince or princess? Or do you want to change Elias's dream into a nightmare?

Here's some references:

For your character's outfits, make them vibrant and fantastical! Anything can happen in Elias's dream!

If you're still stuck, then go watch the original Fantasmic! It should give you ideas for your character's outfits. (Yes, I know that the link is the outdated version, but tbh they didn't change much from the one linked and the updated one so IT'S FINE)

Rules

No NSFW!

This event will start today (September 3rd) and end on September 30th!

Anyone can participate! Whether it's an OC, canon character, or even a staff member.

You can participate by making cards, writing fanfics, or drawing fanart! Anything is cool!

If you make a card with voice lines included, please try to explain what role your character will be taking in the show.

Once you've made your entry, please tag me and use the hashtag, #EliasFantasmicAdventure!

Here’s the base if you’re making a card:

Actors

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

Elias Miel by me!

Joseph Akaba by @readsrandomstuff67

Yuya Florence by @cheerleaderman

Melione by @the-rini-rush

Flori by @bunniehunn

Zagarius Hekkate by @screamintoad

Makaria Hekkate by @blood-red-bumblebee

Mariah Amathyst by @slumberingrose-fandom

I look forward to seeing what you all create!

If you have any questions, feel free to dm me or send me and ask!

[sonicblueartist]

Rayman x Reader

A/N: This time definetly a romantic one-shot! You two are dating for the sake of this fluffy story~

I, of course, again couldn't think anything else but the Rayman from the games bleh.

I WILL NO LONGER WRITING FOR ANYONE UNTIL I FINISH MY REQUESTS Thank youuu~

So sorry if there is any typo mistakes~

Summary: You and him- cute everyday intimate moments~

Warnings: ... a little bit suggestive in the end

Masterlist

Word Count: no idea once again

Taglist: @blorbostation @eateableworm @livelaughluvvfaithyy @darkchanx @astoraa @shiroisotto64

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Dear anons; I would really appreciate it if you could choose an emoji while sending your asks and requests (and stick with it) so I can tell you apart. Thank you~

Good news I find more gifs~

Fruits

He quickly followed behind, "Ah.. to where?"

You push a basket on his chest, "Here take this and follow me." You turn around and start to stroll down in the forest with a happy hum.

You give him a look, "What do you think?"

He huffed realising how stupid his question was, "Okay. But why?"

You coed playfully, "What? The all mighty ray of sunshine don't want to help? Oh, wait, I get it. He was thinking of going back to sleep." You smirked to yourself.

Instead of being offended he hummed with a grin, "Actually laying down doesn't sound too bad right now."

You rolled your eyes, "Well, It's better than sleeping."

"Helping you to collect fruits? Sure." He grinned.

You shook your head, "I am serious. I know you enjoy your little naps but I don't think it won't cause you any trouble helping me with such a small task, right?"

"Who said I won't? Of course I will. You know why?"

"Because you love helping?" You sacrasticly spoke.

He paused, "Well, yes, but it's also because I love helping you."

You shook your head with a smile and grabbed his hoodie dragging him along with you like a little kid. He chuckled at that and quicky caught up to your speed.

You two soon find a nice place to started filling your baskets with fruits. After a while of collecting your eyes landed on his form.

His body screthed up and his hand floated above plucking an apple and put it in the basket. You nibbled with your lip. Since you first laid eyes on him you were always curious and intruged about his anotamy. You aslo never tried to hold his hand before which bothers you a bit knowing he might also notice your avoidance (All couples hand holds after all, right? Would he like that if you do?)... He wasn't weird to you... at least anormal by now... it was just... unusual. You never saw someone like him before, your hesitation is normal, right?

What you mean is... you were just afraid to somehow hurt him. Physically and emotionally. You continue observing him in deep thoughts.

As Rayman reached out to grab another apple, he suddenly froze. He found the new weight and warmth on his back unusual but nothing to alarmed about. His lips turned into a small smile as you leaned on your body against his, it wasn't something you did all the time causing him to also raise a brow in question. Was something wrong? Before he could say anything you spoke, “Should we measure our hands?” With that soft spoken question he blinked in surprise and turn to you. But he didn't question.

"Sure."

He step back and raise his hand out to you. He saw you hesitate as you extended your own towards his. He turned his eyes to yours, hoping that he is at least reasuring you in some way.

When you pressed your hands together, you had a strange feeling. Like electricity going through your body, causing you to want to launch back... Maybe because of you were excited or maybe afraid? You didn't know how to explain this feeling. It felt like... a feeling you had when Rayman was seriously injured before and you couldn't bear to touch him during his recovery.

You give a silent sigh and smiled, "Your hands a bit smaller then mine. Only in height though. Yours is longer in width."

He smiled at you and connected his fingers with yours, his grin widen to see the dust of pink growing on your cheeks. "You are right. But I can still wrap your whole hand in mine."

You chuchkled, "Y-yeah." You squealed when you suddenly feel your other hand snatched by him and pulled towards his body.

He leaned on you, a hand on your back and the other still holding yours. You yelped when he started moving around. You were really confused and flustered a bit, you quickly and catuisly try to match your steps with his, your eyes on his feet to not accidently step on them.

He gently grabbed your chin and made you face him, "My eyes are up here." He whinked with a warm smile making your heart skip a beat.

You scoffed but your expression quickly softened with how lovingly he was observing you. You flushed away from his gaze.

He slowed down a bit, now you know what he was trying to do. Dancing. With an imaginary song. You smiled at that. How silly. Though you didn't resist. Without even relising your tension quickly fade away. You two start to sync even more in time and moved smoothly. He gently twirled you around and dipped you down causing you to giggle.

He laughed along with you as you both continue dancing around. He gently grabbed your hand and let you hold his shoulders (you actually don't know what to call that) and he rested his hands on your waist. You hummed and laid your head on his chest.

You muttered softly, "I didn't knew you would suddenly start dancing out of no where."

"I'm trying my best thanks a lot."

You snorted at that and look up at him, "How cute of you."

"What do you mean? I am always cute."

You found yourself pressed on his chest as his hand supported your back once again dipping you. You bit your bottom lip, "I never said you weren't. You are quite charming too."

"Say something I don't know, prencess."

"Hmm.." your eyes landed on his lips, you swallowed and quickly looked away, "I guess you know everything I am gonna say, huh?"

Your gazes both met once again, his eyes full of desire matching with yours as he leaned in with a whisper, "I might know what you think too..."

Your eyes fluttered close, his lips even softer on yours than you ever imagined. And they tasted like berries. You felt your back laying on the soft ground as he stood on top of you deepending the kiss causing you to let out a little moan.

You gently pushed him away, your hot bretahs mixing with each other as you both stared deep into each others eyes. He leaned in to leave more kisses all over your face slowly going down to your neck only you to push him away with a stuffed laugh. He grinned down at you as you nibble on your lip still tasing him on them. You raised a playfull brow, "Have you've been eating the berries we were collecting?"

He pondered, "Maybe. So what if I have been?"

He yelped and a grunt escaped his lips when he was flipped, finding himself under you, his cheeks supported a strong blush.

"I'll make you pay for that of course."

He chuckled, "Oh, really? What you gonna do about that?" His words come out a bit shaky in the end.

You slowly leaned in playing with the hem of his hoodie causing hin to shiver slightly, you whispered in his ear,"Do you really wanna find out what I am going to do to you?"

He nodded timidly, curious and excited.

You jumped off off him, "I will deprive you of the fruit cake I will bake, of course." You laugh with his dissapoint and surprise face.

He turn to you with a scoff, "I guess that's not the only thing you are deprivibg me today." He mumled out.

"Come help me to carry these back home will you?"

"Sure." He sighed with a soft smile, shooking his head.

[cocomochicakes]

FIRST (F!Tav x Rolan)

A/N:: So I decided the Tieflings of this game don't get enough love so here you have pure, unadulterated PWP.

(And if you wish to be tagged for updates, please comment below!)

WORD COUNT: 13,913

RATINGS: E

WARNINGS: Adult language, Crude Humor, Explicit Sexual Content

PAIRINGS: Rolan x F!Tav

SPECIAL TAGS: @themeghanlodon @mushi42

READ ON AO3

SUMMARY: It's been three years since the Great Mindflayer Invasion in Baldur's Gate and though the companions have all gone their separate ways, Tav remains in the Gate working as a traveling alchemist who studies magical plants and their uses for potions all while getting closer to a certain grumpy Archwizard. When a normal night at Elfsong becomes heated, Tav and Rolan become closer than they thought.

Elfsong Tavern is in full bloom as dusk turns to twilight and the patrons of Baldur’s Gate fill the hall with their grand stories of adventures both inside beyond the gate. A bard strums his lute and plays for patrons, his song among the chaotic din of clattering plates, tinking glasses, and the laughter and merriment from many an adventurer. Off in a far corner seated in an alcove upon a plush set of chairs Rolan and you are seated. It’s been 3 years since the fall of the Netherbrain and the reconstruction of Baldur’s Gate back to its former glory. After your companions had departed to the next steps of their own journey and you decided to remain in the Gate and settle into a life as an alchemist and apothecary with the knowledge gained from many of your travels. Tonight was like any other end to a tenday for both you and Rolan as you had often been contracted by him to bring him ingredients for spells and research and tonight you had suggested the two of you indulge in an evening away from work after a week filled with absolute mayhem within Sorcerous Sundries.

Rolan seems to be distracted as you tap your tankard to his, hoping to get his attention. “Oh forgive me, I got distracted. What were you saying again?” his voice is alert and attended to your presence finally. You smirk at him and tease, “you were just about to compliment my fantastic self on how incredible I am for all the merchandise I was able to deliver on such short notice.” You got up from your seat momentarily to do a small twirl and pose as a mighty hero before sitting back into your chair.

Rolan chuckles at your antics. He’s grown over the years to be a tad soft though most people see the Archmage of Ramazith Tower as quite stoic and grumpy at times, though if anyone knew the truth, they most likely would never believe it. He smiles at you setting his drink down before leaning in on his hand. "I was indeed. I simply can't help myself when confronted with such beauty and grandeur as yourself," he replies.

You know he’s playfully teasing you as he always seems to. “But aren't I? I am grand and wonderful and you are blessed to know such a magnificent woman as me.” Your words are light and you gesticulate how incredible you are with a twirl and sway of your tankard before taking a deep swig. Rolan can’t help but laugh at your now most likely inebriated antics. "Yes... Yes, you are indeed grand and wonderful. I do feel quite blessed to be in your presence, oh great one..." he says with a sly smile.

Your gaze meets his and there’s a palpable energy between the two of you and you know the alcohol is taking effect as your banter begins to get more flirtatious between shy glances. “Hmm and because I am so grand, I feel like I should give you a reward.” Your voice is like honey to him and he sees you lean in close to him from across the small round table. The alcohol is definitely taking effect as Rolan doesn't seem to be aware of the intimate situation he has found himself in "And what sort of reward would that be, oh great and wondrous one? You have my complete attention," he asks, leaning in slightly with a flirtatious glance and another sly smile.

An eyebrow lifts and you walk your fingers up one of his arms before bringing a hand to his chest as you lean close to his ear. “What kind would you like?”

Rolan shivers at the touch, biting his lip as his eyes look up at you in surprise. Your touch is foreign to him outside of the occasional brush of hands but it stirs something within him, a false sense of bravado to which spurs more banter. "I wouldn't want to presume," he says softly. "I am but a humble creature in comparison to your greatness. But for you, I am at your mercy. Any sort of reward would be a pleasure."

You smirk and slot yourself between his legs as he sits on the stool and towers over you and he blushes deeply, breathing rapidly as he finds himself in a new and unexpected position.

 "And... And what do you plan to do here? Oh wonderful one?" He glances around the room, noticing only a few other patrons who take notice of the sight unfurling in a corner of the room but then quickly look away and resume their own conversations.

You bring yourself close to his lips to where you can almost taste the alcohol in his small, unsteady breaths. “Perhaps a kiss would suffice?” you say without a hint of hesitation, your eyes looking between his and his slightly parted lips.

He swallows hard, eyes glancing between your lips and eyes, and leans in closer. "Perhaps... But I could not possibly..." He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The alcohol is clouding his judgement and his body feels suddenly warm as he leans forward even further, his lips just millimeters from yours. You can feel his breath on your lips as he hesitates. The air and din around you still.

You feel his hesitance, his reluctance and push it from your mind, closing the gap between your mouths to place a small, soft, gentle kiss on his lips before parting. The kiss is short but sweet, leaving an instant impact on Rolan's brain, muddling any thoughts he had in that moment. His lips begin to feel warm and his heart starts beating wildly, his breath coming in sharp, quick gasps. He glances up at you with wide eyes, his lips still parted slightly from the kiss. Awe.

You smile at him I think that is a perfect reward to bestow.

Rolan seems overwhelmed by the feeling the kiss left behind. His breath still coming in quick gasps, as he can't seem to control it. The warmth in his lips is still present, and his eyes are wide and shining "That was... amazing," he finally says softly, his words barely perceptible to your ears through the din of the tavern.

You glance down shyly and look back up to him. “We could....do it again.”

He’s looking at you with a longing gaze, biting his lip softly as he nods "Yes... Yes, I think we should. Just... Just once more." He looks around again, ensuring no one else is looking before pushing the small table between you slightly forward, inching ever so slightly closer, his warmth radiating into your vicinity. He meets your lips this time and again the kiss is soft and sweet before he parts with you. Your gaze is half-lidded and wandering to his. It stirs a beating in your heart, sending it racing inside your chest.

The second kiss is every bit as good as the first, leaving Rolan wanting for more. His lips are still parted slightly from the kiss, his eyes half-lidded with a dreamy gaze as he takes in the sight of you before him. He glances around the room one last time before leaning forward again, this time more bold, and initiating a third kiss however this time, his kiss is more passionate. His arms wrap around your body in a tight embrace, pulling you close. The kiss becomes increasingly more passionate, leaving Rolan dizzy with both pleasure and surprise as his tongue and lips slide against yours. His breathing is shallow and quick into the kiss, and his heart is racing like a whirlwind as his mouth opens further to allow your tongue to slide with grace against his. He’s slowly losing control of himself and his desire as he kisses.

You moan into his mouth as you feel every movement of his tongue and lips against yours. It’s euphoria, pure bliss where your mind is blank. Tabula Rasa. Rolan moans softly in response, his mouth opening fully as he gives in to the sensation. Your tongues are dancing eagerly and every motion of yours seems to send ripples of pleasure through his body and leaving his hand desperately grasping at your back. You slowly part from one another, your chests heaving as you gaze into one another's eyes, your lips both swollen and flushed. He stares at you, the feeling still washing over him as he feels completely and utterly enraptured. In that moment, Rolan sees only you. He breaths deep, his mouth still feeling warm and tingly from the kiss. He looks down at your lips, eyes still longing and yearning for another taste of them mingled with drink on his tongue.

In your haze, you forgotten you are in public until you hear a whistle come from across the room paired with a few catcalls. Your face flushes. Rolan looks up from you and glances around the room, realizing where the both of you are. His blush deepens as people's eyes are looking over at the two of you, clearly having witnessed the very-heated kiss between the two of you. He glances back down at you with a sheepish smile and shakes his head. "Perhaps a bit too much for a public place, eh?" his voice carries a hint of embarrassment for what has just transpired between you two.

You laugh in return at the awkward situation you’ve found yourself in. “Probably not the place to be giving this kind of show I suppose…” your voice trails off as you cast your gaze to the side. Rolan chuckles in response to your comment, his cheeks still flushed and his lips still feeling warm from the kiss. "I'm not sure there's a place for this kind of show at all," he replies playfully. "It would require a private room and a proper bed."

Your eyes go wide and your whole body flushes in disbelief that mentioned a private room and bed and perhaps just implied he wishes to sleep with you. He notices the sudden change in your demeanor, and his eyebrows raise in curiosity as he glances down at you, quickly realizing exactly what he just said. He tries to play it off, his gaze going up and down your figure and flitting about the tavern in panic.  "I wasn't... I was... well, not joking, but..." He trails off, he says, clearly embarrassed at his accidental slip of tongue, tucking his top lip between his teeth in shame.

Your face is bright red and your heart is hammering out of your chest and you say something that you believe may be the result of a bit too much alcohol:

“Unless...you want to...”

Unless you want to.

Rolan's eyes go wide while he processes your words to their entirety. Unless you want to. Though you seem to follow up on his joke, everything suddenly stops feeling so playful. His heart begins to beat wildly, and he struggles to respond to what you said. His head is spinning, repeating your words again and again, his gaze is blank as he stares at you.

He finally seems to snap out of his panic, takes a deep breath and speaks though he can barely get the words past his lips. "A-Are... Are you suggesting..." He pauses again, swallowing hard and unable to meet your eyes. This surely can’t be what he thinks it is…can it?

You bashfully look down and your hands are playing with the hem of your blouse, twiddling a stray thread between your fingers. ”I mean...if you wanted to...I wouldn't say no to it. Bedding me that is.”

Your eyes glance up from your sleeve to quickly meet his before returning to the thread on your sleeve. Rolan's eyes snap up to you, his heart hammering so hard he can feel it shaking the wall of his chest. His mind seizes. You want him to bed you? Him. You. Bed. Touching. Sex. His tongue lays heavy in his mouth and he can barely get out a single sound.

 "I... I..." He pauses. No words seem to come to him strong enough to defy his tongue, so he simply nods his head in your direction and makes a small sound of agreement.

You note his inability to speak and the way his eyes are wide and jaw has slacked. To break the tension, you take a swig of your drink and clear your throat starting to believe that perhaps he doesn’t truly see you the way you had originally assumed.

 “Unless you don't want to but I'm just offering...I quite fancy you, Rolan. I think you're grand and enjoy when we meet up like this. And...I've always wondered what it would be like...with you.” Your eyes are softly gazing at him, your cheeks flushed. It’s embarrassing and exciting all at once, your heart is beating almost in your ears and your stomach is filled with butterflies hoping he does indeed feel the same way.

Rolan's breath catches in his throat, so overwhelmed by your words and the offer that he feels unable to respond. His cheeks are still flushed with the blush that is starting to fill his face and he can’t bear to make eye contact with you for fear he might combust. He opens his mouth to finally respond, but again he finds no words. Instead he just nods his head once again, nodding furiously and saying yes to you, before he finally has the courage to bring his eyes up, never letting his gaze leave yours.

You chuckle and cast a coy gaze at him. The man with so many words is speechless for once. “Then if you'd like...we can go back to my place and...get comfortable.” It’s an offer you’ve wanted to ask him time and time again but never had the courage to do and a part of you is thanking the bit of alcohol you’ve had tonight for helping you be able to speak the words that have been mulling in your head for months.

His face continues to glow red with embarrassment, as he feels like he has been utterly disarmed by your words and your offer. Yet, a smile creeps onto his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. "Y-Yes... I think I would very much like that." You feel your heart soar and the butterflies in your stomach rise into your throat as you realize that perhaps he does indeed see you the way you see him.

“Then let us head to my apartment. It's not far from here.”

Your words are more confident sounding than you currently feel in asking a man back to your abode. You glance to him and Rolan nods his head once again, feeling his heart beating wildly and his breath coming in short gasps as he realizes this is all really happening, that you’re intending to do more than simply spend an evening in your apartment together playing cards. The flirtation and the passion between you and him that has existed for months was all finally culminating to the moment he wanted so badly, one he would never admit he had quite literally dreamed of to some much embarrassing results. He stands from his seat, reaching out his hand to you, his tail flitting nervously behind him. A slight laugh escapes your lips as you grab his hand and lead him from the tavern, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from behind the both of you.

Rolan doesn't care about the catcalls and whistles either. He feels too caught up in the moment; too caught up in the anticipation and excitement of what's to come. You hold his hand as you lead him along the street to your apartment, neither one of you saying a word as you walk between drunken citizens singing sea shanties and other citizens from the Lower City.

When you arrive, you unlock the door and take off your shoes in your quaint entry. It's a small studio apartment on the top floor with a window garden and bookcases lining the walls filled with books that overlooks the street below and has a grand view of the night sky and ocean. He glances around taking in the sight of your apartment and notes how cozy it is filled with plants and books of all kinds.

Rolan follows you inside, taking a closer look at the various pots and climbing flowering plants that adorn a small table and the copious amount of well-read books littered about in stacks. The apartment is surprisingly comfortable, making him feel more at ease than he has the whole night. He notes to himself that your abode is very much like what he had always guessed it would look like. His eyes scan the titles before he looks over at you, smiling softly at the sight of you inside your own home for the first time.

“I know it’s not much...but when you travel as much as me, you don't need a lot.”

Rolan gives a modest laugh as you finish your sentence, he nods, and then looks around a bit more. The book collections, the plants, the apartment itself all shows an interesting side of you that he has not yet seen but one he always imagined. Once again his gaze meets yours, and he can't help but smile "I think your place is... it's wonderful. It's a nice home."

“I'm glad you like it. Would you like some tea? You're unsure how one is to begin this sort of thing with a man.”

You tuck your hands behind your back waiting for his response. The moment of hesitation gives Rolan a moment to gather himself slightly, his breath once again coming in short bursts as he stares openly at you. He nods his head, not quite able to take his eyes off of you. "Tea would be... wonderful, I think."

Rolan watches as you put on a kettle and grab a jar filled with a peculiar bright flower. It’s a rare floral tea you obtained from your trip to Chult on an expedition the previous year. It's fragrant, soft, inviting.

He smiles quietly as the scent of the flowery tea fills the room.. He can't help but sniff the air and let it fill his lungs. The scent is inviting and relaxing, much like a fresh rain upon flowers, and makes him feel at ease again after the rush of emotions from earlier. He glances around the room again, a soft grin spread over his face, as he waits patiently for the tea to brew and walks to your small table.

As you pour the tea for the both of you, Rolan notices a book left open on the table next to a small bag of yours. His eye catches your book on the table, and he glances over to it nervously, wondering if he should be prying into something that could be private. He hesitates briefly, but then he is unable to resist the temptation of reading. It was only out in the open after all. He steps closer to the table, and glances over at it curiously.

It's your journal and in it, you have been documenting a variety of flowers and herbs along with sporadic notes, which appear to be the titles of books.

As he glances down at your journal, his eyes linger briefly on the title written at the top. "Field Study of Plants and Herbs." He looks down and sees that each page contains various notes and studies you've made from your travels. He smiles softly, looking up to you. "Are these from your travels?" He asks softly, the journal's cover close to his face now.

You smile and set down the cups of tea as you sit with him. “Yes...I've come to find many of the plants I've worked with have properties of not only healing, but also as potent poisons. Some even require a source of magic to grow...I've been working to document them for future potions. Most of which you yourself have seen when I come into Sorcerous Sundries.”

The journal contains so much information from your travels, and Rolan is in awe of the detail of your notes and studies. From the way you describe the plants, it seems like you've done a lot of experimentation and research on them even down to the most minute of details. "That's amazing, I had no idea the plants and herbs in these regions would have such properties,” he dexterously flips a page and scans another, “Are they found in many places?". He briefly sets the book down and grabs the tea you have gifted him, taking a slow sip and savoring the delicate taste.

“Unfortunately not...most require specific circumstances to thrive and maintain their magical properties. Some species are elusive and only found in the most difficult places to reach. However, that's what makes my work rewarding. Being the first to find them and make use of their properties.” You take a seat at the table and smile fondly as he admires your work.

Rolan smiles back at you, your passion and determination for your field making him feel a wave of admiration for you. You seem like the type of person that would seek out the impossible, and do what others couldn't. He takes another sip of his tea and sits down next to you, tucking his tail around the leg of the chair. "That's very admirable. I doubt many people could be able to say they've done what you have in the pursuit of knowledge and magic."

You blush and grasp your tea with both hands, tucking your knees to your chest. “It's the nature of being an alchemist I suppose. I just...I want to learn all I can so at least someone can make use of it.” You gaze wanders to the farside of the room where an alchemical elixir is currently distilling amongst a menagerie of glass vials, tubes, and beakers.

Rolan follows your gaze over to the far side of the room, taking in the sight of the various bottles and potions that litter the table. His eyes linger on the elixir, as he watches the liquids inside it change as it brews "Is that another potion you're making? Its color is very different from anything I've seen before" he chimes, his curiosity piqued by your setup.

“It is,” your voice is confident and warm, “I'm working on a substance which can be used to reduce magical sickness in those who can't appropriately expel the Weave from their body or who end up taking on too much of it. Namely for young Wizards and Sorcerers in training. It's made with Sussur bark I obtained in the Underdark. Would you like to see?”

You take a sip of your tea and tilt your head as you ask him the question. Rolan turns in his seat, his eyes darting towards the bottle of the brewing potion. He leans closer from his chair as he can't help but stare at the liquid inside it, fascinated by the change it goes through. "Would I like to see? I would be thrilled."

You set your tea down, get up and he follows you over to your alchemy table and you grab a small vial of prepared liquid. It shimmers and glows when the vial is turned, briefly emitting a shimmering blue hue that illuminates the vial as the liquid tosses and swishes inside. “This is the purest form of Sussur extract. Upon ingestion, it can almost completely eliminate the ability for one to use magic. It could be used defensively or for medicinal purposes. Think about the children who are practicing magic and intake too much of the Weave, causing severe illness. Being a wizard I’m sure you perhaps have had a few magical mishaps yourself. It could solve the problem with a single drop.” Your eyes glow beneath the agitated liquid, a sense of wonder and awe at the concoction you’ve managed to synthesize.

Rolan leans forward to get a closer look at the liquid you hold between two fingers, the glow it emits mesmerizing him. He stares openly and in awe as you describe the effects of it - even more so at the concept of people who can't properly manage their use of magic. He turns his attention back to the liquid and gives it a cautious experimental sniff as you remove the lid - it smells strangely sweet, like honey.

“Sweet isn't it?” You reinsert the cork before explaining its origins further. “It's a beautiful, mesmerizing flowering tree but very dangerous to get to as many creatures call its roots home. As you near it, it also completely dulls your ability to use magic so the only way to get it is with your bare hands and a sword.

Rolan nods his head in admiration. Your knowledge is something to be marveled at and he begins to wonder how you managed to attain it to begin with.

“This Sussur extract is certainly unique,” he says, admiring the small vial, "I'm starting to think the entire Underdark is built to be as hazardous as possible to outsiders."

You smile mischievously, quirking an eyebrow. “Oh indeed it is. The denizens aren't exactly...friendly to humans like myself. I don a drow disguise much of the time I'm down there. Pays to look the part for safety you know?”

Rolan's eyes light up at the mention of drow disguise "You disguise yourself as a drow? How do you even manage that? Doesn't that mean dressing up as a drow and speaking Common with a drow accent, all while trying not to betray the fact that you're not an actual drow?"

You chuckle at his idea. “Sort of. I can't cast much magic but I do know…” your words cut off as you wave your hands and utter a phrase and before his eyes stands the image of a female Lolth-sword Drow “..Disguise Self. Handy isn't it?”

His eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly as he takes in the illusion before him. He stares in awe at the drow's attire, her features. It really is a flawless disguise. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks slightly as he stares. He clears his throat and glances back up at you as you do a small twirl with a curtsy at the end.

"That... I can't even put it in words how convincing that is. I've always heard Drow have an eerie beauty to them, but I've never actually met one."

You do another twirl, much slower this time. “Surprisingly neither have I. At least a live one anyway.”

Rolan watches you twirl, his heart racing for a moment. He is very intrigued by you in this moment, your appearance and overall aura just making him feel... something strange. You're like an enigma and it only makes him want to know more about you. He smiles "So you've never actually met a live Drow? As in…you’ve seen dead ones?"

You dispel Disguise Self as you speak. “No, not a live one. I've come across the corpses of male Drow routinely and many Duegar and Deep Gnomes but never a living Drow. Most reside in Menzoberranzan and I tend to steer clear of the area lest I be caught. My disguise can only go so far,” your tone is serious but he is intrigued by even the notion that you’ve wandered the Underdark alone.

"Menzoberranzan, the city of spiders. I've heard of it, and I too would avoid that area if I could. The Drow have a very well-earned reputation for being evil and ruthless" Rolan says, clearly fascinated with your experiences.

You hum, placing the vile down as you lean on your desk. “I think this is partially true. They are a matriarchal society who uses men as breeding stock and only allows 2 sons per family. They sacrifice any more than that, deeming them a waste of resources. I've come to learn that these sons, or even adult male Drow who disobey their Houses, may be sacrificed to Lolth herself and become monstrosities. However, there are Seladrine Drow that I've heard of, peaceful drow that wish to be accepted by those above and who do not share the evil inclinations of their Lolth-sworn cousins. I’ve even heard rumors there are two who sell their intimate services at Sharess’ Caress from a few adventurers.”

A moment of hesitation precedes his next question as he processes the facts you’ve stated. "Do you know why a society like that even exists? Why they follow Lolth so devoutly?"

Again you hum in response before explaining, “Most people don't. The only reason I know is because there are rumors that the legendary Drizzt Do’Urden is a Seladrine.”

He nods his head "I've heard the tales of Drizzt and the heroic exploits. If there are truly Drow that possess these traits, how do they fare in the Underdark among their more aggressive race? Wouldn't they be looked down upon as outcasts?"

“Precisely. Which is why I ensure my eyes are red when I travel to gather supplies in the Underdark. Red eyes are a hallmark of Lolth-sworn Drow.”

Your explanation makes absolute sense. The Underdark has proven to be an unforgiving environment, one that does not tolerate any weakness or kindness. Those that do possess these traits, like the Seladrine drow, must either adapt or pretend to be cruel or be killed by others for their weakness. It makes sense then that they would blend in with the other Drow to stay alive.

“Hence why this bark and extract are so precious...many die trying to get it.” Your gaze turns somber for a moment and Rolan notes that you probably knew many alchemists and apothecaries who lost their lives attempting to get it.

"That extract and the bark from the tree itself must be incredibly rare, and I'm sure it can be used for a number of purposes. It's no wonder your research is so important - I can't imagine the amount of lives you would save in just making such a small amount of this extract. I can understand now why you travel and risk so much." His voice is soft, almost reverent as he speaks.

It brings a smile to your lips that he understands the magnitude of your work. “I find the rarest of plants and bring their essences back to this humble abode to synthesize the best potions, elixirs, and tinctures money can buy. Many of which you yourself have handled and are the first to see in use.”

Rolan stares at you, listening intently as you enter your passionate explanation. You seem so... happy. Your passion and energy is evident as you speak about your work and the ingredients you find and he is honored to learn you entrusted him with some of the first potions of their kind for study and use. He smiles back at you, tail swaying contently, admiring your charisma and devotion to your field. "Your work is astounding, the sheer amount of patience and dedication must be immense."

You smile at him brightly. “It's no different than yours researching magic and magical items, creating scrolls, finding new methods to manifest the Weave. My area just involves plants.”

Rolan chuckles at your reply "You make it sound so trivial. Your work involves hunting down the most dangerous ingredients you can find, risking your life in such a hostile environment that is so far beneath the comfort of civilization. I merely sit and read scrolls and research ancient texts; my work is far less taxing and exhausting than yours."

“You make me sound like a hero...I'm none of that. I just enjoy the rush of it all.”

Rolan shakes his head and smiles. "That is the exact reason why I say you are, in fact, a hero. You put your life on the line when you could just as easily go into a less dangerous and hostile profession that pays the same. But that's not what you desire - you need a challenge, a rush. You are like a thrill seeker, chasing the excitement and adventure that comes with your work and I am honored to be witness to many of your creations."

You blush as he gets closer to you. His words feel more meaningful than any compliment you’ve ever received as his words are not simply those of admiration but respect for your passion.

You can't help but feel the heat of your blush as it paints your cheeks, your gaze cast shyly away from Rolan as he steps closer to you. Your reaction is so adorable and endearing to him that he feels himself beginning to blush as well. Your eyes meet his and the two of you just stare at one another, the silence only becoming louder as the heat intensifies. The only noise is the pounding of your heart in your chest.

“Rolan...I think you sell yourself short on what you do. I think what you do is fascinating.”

Your eyes linger on each other, neither of you able to break away in some kind of awkward yet heated stalemate. The silence is palpable, and the heat rising between your bodies is intense as neither one of you can keep our eyes off each other. You comment makes the heat rise even more in his cheeks and he feels himself becoming more flustered and self-aware of the situation at hand. He nods his head slightly, not knowing what else to say. Finally, he musters up the courage to speak, as his eyes dart from your lips to your eyes "You really think so?"

“I do,” you grab his hands, “You've done so much for this city with your research and skills. Not to mention how you took over three years ago. I find it rather impressive…”

Your hand feels so soft in his and the touch of you feels like electricity - sending a shiver down his spine. He smiles bashfully at you, unable to hide how flustered he is. He clears his throat and nods his head "I've never done it for the purpose of the city's benefit. I've simply worked to further my magical knowledge. And..." he pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as they look away, "I've never actually had anyone praise me so much before."

You're staring up at him through soft eyes. “A pity...you deserve more.”

His breath catches in his throat for a moment, the feeling of your soft gaze making him feel nervous and excited at the same time. He looks down at you again, your smiling face catching him off guard. He's never felt this strongly towards someone else before. He finally responds, trying to remain as composed as he can. "Perhaps you are right about me selling myself short, but I could say the same about you. Your talents and dedication deserve recognition."

“I don't do it for the recognition...I do it because it makes me happy you know?”

Rolan smiles, finding that he understands you completely. He nods his head in agreement "I know...I think a lot of people would be shocked to know that's why I do what I do. I could sit and read magical texts and scrolls all day and not be bothered by it in the slightest. I enjoy researching magic. It makes me feel excited, thrilled, and it gives me a purpose. I think more people need to follow their passions like you and I do. That way... a lot of people wouldn't be so unhappy."

“I agree. I love discovering new things, it only for the sake of knowledge.”

Rolan listens to every word you say, nodding his head. You seem so passionate about your work, as a researcher. “That is certainly something you and I have in common” he says, heat rising in his cheeks. He smiles at you before elaborating, "I think the two of us are very similar. We both strive to gain knowledge, to understand something new and unknown to us. I suppose that's why we get along so well..."

You blush as you lean against his chest and hug him. “I suppose that is…”

Your words trail off softly as you feel your chest against his. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer. Your body is like a furnace and his heart is pounding loudly. He's never felt like this before - so nervous and excited all at once. Rolan looks down at you as your bodies touch, your soft body and beautiful face the only things occupying his mind right now. He wants to stay like this forever.

“Rolan...what I said earlier. I really do fancy you a lot.”

He freezes mid-sentence as you speak, feeling you tuck yourself into his chest further. He's been waiting for these words, dying to hear them from you. He wants to believe you mean them, that they're genuine. You tilt your head up away from his chest and he stares into your eyes, which seem to have a spell on them that won't let him look away. The silence is loud as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to break this intimate moment. His heart beats faster with every second that passes and he swears you can feel it too.

You’re gazing at one another, closer and closer you get, lips a mere breath from touching.

The two of you are so close to each other now. You feel like you can breathe in each other's energy. Rolan's mouth is millimeters away from yours, as the two of you hold each other tightly. You feel as if you have finally found something real...something pure. Your lips are so close, you can practically taste each other's breath. Your hands grip each other tightly, as if you never want to let go.

“Rolan...tell me you want this” you gaze up at him with pleading eyes, your hands gently grasping at his robe.

His breath comes in shallow, quick breaths as he gazes down at you. You look up at him with such intense desire that he feels his heart stop. He wants this, he needs this. Your lips are so close and he wants nothing more than to finally meet them.

Your eyes flicker to his lips.

At the hint of your eyes flickering to his lips, Rolan leans down slowly. Your eyes meet before closing and your breath hits each other's tongues. It's happening; you feel so alive in the moment. Your breath catches as your lips touch and you feel like you may never recover. All other noises from the street below drown out as you both finally kiss, your hearts pounding. Rolan's hands are gripped tightly around you, as if he cannot bear letting you go.

Your kiss is soft and sensual. His lips press to yours as he pulls you into a deep embrace. Your kiss turns passionate, his tongue sliding against yours and you can't help but moan into it.

The moan surprises him and his breath catches in his throat once more. He pulls you in closer, kissing you more intensely. He wants this kiss more than anything, you're like a magnet that he can't pull away from. The kiss grows more and more passionate, your lips sliding against each other, bodies pressing tightly together. With each breath, heat flows throughout your bodies, each one taking in the other's energy.

You move your hands to grasp at his back and bring him closer. You can't help but want more of him as he feels as though he's devouring every inch of your soul in his kiss, a price you would gladly pay to feel more of him in this way.

Rolan responds to your touch, moving his hands to hold your body tightly against his. Your body presses against him and he wants you all over him, his breath is short and fast as he loses himself in you. He moves to kiss you more, wanting to consume you with everything he has. His tongue explores your mouth, sliding along your teeth and lips, as he tries to make sure you feel him in just the right places while your hands hold him close. He kisses you deeply, he’s lost entirely in this moment with you.

You slowly break the kiss your chest heaving as you look up at him, your eyes are glassy and your lips swollen, chest heaving  and mouth slightly agape. “Rolan...I need you to know something.”

Rolan looks down at you, breathing heavily himself. His eyes meet yours, as he's waiting for you to finish your statement. He wants to know what it is you wanted to say, whatever it is - he has a feeling it won't change the way he looks at you.

“I...I've never done this before…” Your eyes wander away from his bashfully as he holds you at his chest. His heart is pounding out of his ears as he tries to register your words.

Rolan feels his breath catch in his throat. He stares at you for a moment, not sure how to respond. “You've never done this before? You're a talented, gorgeous woman who could have any man she wanted - and he was the man you chose.” A rush of elation and pride washes over him, as if that one fact is enough to set him over the moon.

You sheepishly look away from him. “Perhaps it was foolish of me to wait but...I have had opportunities but turned them down. I only ever wanted to do this with someone I cared for and for the last two years....I was hoping that would be you.” You jolt into him and bury your head in his chest in embarrassment.

Rolan's heart leaps in his chest. Your words make his heart ache and smile all at the same time. You've been wishing this for years? That's a powerful fact to hear. That means that out of anyone who's wanted you, I'm the lucky one? Rolan can't help but smile bashfully, as he pulls you closer to him still. His lips graze your head, as he holds you close. The feeling of your body against his is so warm and comforting, like home.

You mumble into his chest. “Rolan please say something oh gods I'm so embarrassed....”

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you tighter, bringing your body against his. He nuzzles his cheek against your hair and whispers in response, his voice soft and comforting. "There's no need to be embarrassed. I never would have wanted this to be with anyone else. It's... it's almost as if I've been waiting for this moment my entire life."

You look at him clearly still embarrassed. “I knew going into this that you perchance had more experience than me since you're extremely handsome and you're well...the Archmage of Ramazith Tower. You've got all of these things and I'm just the adventuring alchemist girl who makes interesting potions.”

Rolan chuckles, shaking his head as you continue your sentence. “You're such a shy, sweet girl, and it's endearing, you know that?” Rolan can't help but smile at everything you say. He strokes your hair gently and lets his hand slide down your back. "Oh... oh, my dear. First of all, you are not just a mere 'adventuring alchemist' - you are an extremely talented woman with the most creative mind I've ever seen in a mage. And secondly..."

You look into his eyes finally as he gazes down at you softly, awaiting his reply. Your heart is racing

His gaze holds yours intensely. Your heart is thumping against your chest, trying to burst out. He finally responds, pulling you in until your lips are almost touching "Your intellect is what drew me to you, yes... but it's your personality that made me want to stay. You're kind and sensitive, with a playful streak and a fiery nature. You care about the world in the most empathetic way, and you always try to do what's good and right, even if it's at your own expense."

You feel your heart flutter.

“You think all those things of me? Truly?”

Rolan's smile widens as he gazes at you, his lips an inch away from touching. You can feel his breath softly brushing against your lips "Truly... I've never known anyone who compares to you. You're more than talented, more than beautiful... you're truly the most incredible person I've ever met."

“Then Rolan...” your words become quiet briefly before steeling yourself and speaking confidently, “…show me. I want to be yours.”

Rolan's eyebrows arch higher in surprise, as he stares at you. But his eyes linger on your lips. In this moment, he can't help but want this, to be yours. To be with you. After a moment, he pulls you in for another kiss, this one more powerful and passionate than the last. You feel his hands grip you tighter, as his lips hold yours with intensity. He kisses you deeply, slowly at first but picks up quickly. His breath catches in his throat as he feels his body responding to yours.

You feel him grasping you tightly in his embrace and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss. His kisses make your lips tingle and your body flush with heat. As you kiss him, you guide him back towards your bed while pawing at his robes.

He allows you to guide him. Your hands on him are like a spark that sets off a wildfire in his body; he cannot hold back the heat that builds within him as you guide him to the bed. The intense kisses make his heart race, his breath heavy and frantic. He can't believe this is happening. He cannot believe that you are here with him now. Your kisses make him want you all at once, the desire to give himself to you overwhelming.

You feel the back of your legs hit your bed and you bring your hands to his chest, grasping tightly at the fabric of his robes. You want to touch his bare skin, feel his skin against your palms, against your bare breasts. A desire to simply touch him consumes you.

As your hands grip the fabric of his robes, he cannot hold back a low groan. The sensation of your caress sends chills through his body, igniting a longing within him that he cannot control. He wants to be closer to you, to have you so close that no air exists between your bodies. The rush of your warm breath grazing his neck sends shivers creeping up his spine, all of it making him desire you more than he ever has. His hands move to grasp your hips closely as he keeps kissing you deeply.

You break the kiss and look at him with your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with a look of palpable lust. “Can you...take your robes off? I want to…feel you.”

Rolan's face flushes, his breath ragged and quick. Your words sounded so innocent but were meant for something much more suggestive. After a long moment, he can only manage to nod as he begins to remove his robes, your eyes glued to every inch of exposed skin he reveals. Once he is completely bare, you can see the scars that cover his entire body. There are some long and deep scars while others are shallow and speckled. He stares back at you, his body pulsing with energy and desire. He wants you more than he's ever wanted anything.

As he stands there in only his breeches and boots you can't help but marvel at his bare torso. You run your fingers across the planes and edges of his chest, feeling the hard points of the ridges his Tielfing body possesses and ghosting over his many scars. His body is fascinating and it entrances you.

Your touch sends shivers all over his body. He moans softly as you caress his bare torso with the tips of your fingers, tracing the ridges like a map of his own flesh. Your fingers are soft and playful, and your touch is hypnotic. He lets out a deep shuddering breath, as every inch of his body responds to you.

Something inside you stirs and you bring your lips to his chest to feel the sharp edges of his Tielfing markings. They're rough and calloused near smooth skin, the texture feels odd against your lips but still pleasant. The sensation of your lips on his Tielfing markings has a strange effect on him. It is as if all of the nerve endings in his body are waking up, coming to life at the touch of your lips. His body shivers and his breathing grows faster as each second passes, his breath heavy with anticipation. He closes his eyes against you, the desire to feel you in every way possible growing even more. He reaches down to pull you in closer so that your bodies are pressed together, your lips grazing his skin like a delicate kiss from flames.

You kiss his chest going lower and lower, down the expanse of his chest and abdomen and you stop briefly as you approach the edge of his breeches before looking up at him in awe. You haven't been intimate with a man in this way yourself, but you have ready many a romance novel and seen plenty of erotic art to know what you could do for him in this position.

The moment of hesitation makes him laugh softly, as he knows exactly what you're thinking. At first, he can only watch as you hover near the edge of his breeches. But he's also incredibly aroused by your boldness and curiosity, knowing how much further you're willing to take this - something that makes his chest flutter and his breath catch in his throat. You are clearly a curious woman who likes to explore things and take things to their limits. You are more than he could have ever imagined, and it makes him want you even more.

You look up at him expectantly as his hands come to graze your cheeks, one of his thumbs rubbing against your bottom lip affectionately. He can only admire how incredible you look kneeling before him, your eyes sparkling with wonder.

The feel of his hands on your cheeks makes your heart race. You stare back into his eyes, seeing the hunger within them. You feel his breath heavy in the air, each second that passes only adding to your excitement. You can tell that he wants you badly, and the fact that he's taking the time to hold you in his gaze and caress your cheek makes you feel incredibly wanted and desired. The rush of emotions from within you feels like fireworks, your heart beating out of your chest with every moment that passes.

“Rolan...can I..?” Your words still in the air, your gaze meeting his.

He stares back at you, his breath shaky as he waits for your words. Your touch has him dizzy and his heart hammering in his chest. Your eyes are bright, your words just out of reach. There's not much thought behind it - he knows very well what you're going to ask. He can't help but nod slightly, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips. He wants this, wants you.

Upon seeing him nod, you carefully unlace his breeches noting his arousal as you do. Your cheeks are alight. This is your first time seeing a man so intimately, the blood beneath your skin heating your body as you knew what you were about to do. Your fingers ply inside the band of his breeches and undergarments and slowly pull them down over his manhood, your breathing is heavy, hot.

The sensation of you pulling down his breeches has a sudden effect on him. His body shudders and his breath catches in his throat as you reveal his shaft to the air around you. Your fingers brushing against his bare skin make him tingle all over, his body aching for your touch. He tries to maintain his composure as your hands work your way down, each passing second only adding to his aroused state.

Cautiously you reach a hand out and give him an experimental grasp and stroke to him. Rolan gasps and bites his bottom lip with a fang in response to your touch. Your hand is so soft against the hardness of his arousal. He wants to thrust his hips against your hand but he stills himself to allow you to explore him. Your experimental grasp sends a jolt through him, your touch the first to ever to do so. It’s cautious, gentle, curious. It’s fascinating his skin is so soft yet so firm beneath your touch as you work your hands up and down his shaft, noting the peculiar ridges upon it.

Slowly your hand works as you bring the other to his thigh to balance yourself. You've never kneeled before a man in any sense before and the sensation it brings you to kneel before him and see him panting and breathless stirs a growing feeling between your thighs.

The sensation of you kneeling before him is a rush it gets his blood pumping and sends sparks all over his body. His breath is still heavy and his eyes are glued to yours, every breath you take sending a jolt of excitement through him. He can't help but shiver slightly, your touch making every inch of his body sensitive and responsive as if sparks danced upon his skin. His heartbeat quickens and his breathing grows faster with every second that passes, every stroke of your hands upon his erect member. You touch him and caress him in a manner that sends shivers down his spine with anticipation and in his mind all he can think is more.

You feel him shiver and it fills you with pride knowing you are the one making him feel like this. You cast your gaze upwards and in a quick movement, take his manhood into your mouth. He cries out and throws his head back as his shaft of his cock caresses your tongue and you hum in satisfaction. The way the ridges of his member caress your tongue as you suck him, lick him, and slide him in and out of your mouth and between your lips is a sensation that makes you want even more of him. Rolan is panting and moaning as your movements grow quicker and you feel his fingertips and claws playing against your scalp, encouraging you to continue your exploration while his tail begins to whip wildly behind him.

The sensation of your lips and tongue caressing him sends a wave of heat from his loins out the rest of his body. He can feel himself beginning to lose control and his pleasure beginning to peak. You're breathing heavy against him and you can feel his hips rocking against your lips and you know he’s most likely close to release.

He stops you with a gentle pat to the head and tap to the cheek, picking up your head up to look at him. His heart nearly stops entirely as he looks at you and sees how erotic you look. Your pupils are blown out, cheeks brightly flushed, lips swollen and plump as a strand of saliva connects your mouth to his most intimate parts. It's so lewd that even he could never have imagined such a sight with you even in the confines of his wet dreams.

A wave of hot embarrassment flashes over him as his heart races at your expression. Your flushed and reddened cheeks send his mind whirling as he takes in this moment. When you look up at him, the moment of pause is overwhelming. Your lips are still wet with saliva from your exploration, the scent of you filling the air and making his head spin all over again with desire. He can't help but reach back into your hair, wanting to maintain this close contact between you two.

“Did I...do something wrong?” You ask, your brows knitted in concern.

He shakes his head slightly, keeping his gaze on your eyes as he moves his fingers through your hair "No, no, quite the opposite." He swallows hard, feeling his face still flush from the moment. "When you..." He sighs, not sure how exactly to describe it, "When you took me into your mouth like that... It was... It was incredible. I almost…came in your mouth." His cheeks redden with his admission.

You blush and look away, not realizing how incredibly lewd you look to him in that moment and how aroused the sight is making him.

The combination of your position and the visual alone is enough to drive him wild. The blush covering your cheeks and the way you look away, not even realizing how beautiful you are in this moment, drives him crazy with desire. He pulls your head back to him and stares you down, his eyes burning with a hunger as he keeps working his fingers through your hair and his voice wavers. "It was the most glorious sight I could've ever imagined, to see you so... open and submissive like that."

Your heart is pounding and your breathing is quick as you stare up at him. He brings his hands to the sides of your face and motions for you to stand before him, allowing him to kiss you once before he gently begins to run his hands over your still-clothed body.

As you rise from your position on your knees, he cannot look away from the sight of your body. Even covered by your clothes, he cannot help but stare at the way it shapes your form. He traces your curves with his fingers, and you can feel the heat emanating from every inch of his hand. Your breath comes quicker and heavier as you feel his hands wandering, exploring you.

A confidence stirs within you seeing him naked before you. You back away from him slowly and begin to unlace your bodice, one strand at a time, letting it fall to the floor before sliding your blouse over your head and tossing it somewhere behind you. Rolan is taking in your every action and sees your shy smile as your hands creep to your chest bindings. With a simple snap, they unravel from your chest, falling to the ground around you. His eyes grow wide in awe.

The sight of you revealing yourself to him sends shockwaves throughout his body. Your skin is pale and smooth, without a hint of blemish. Your breasts are perfect. Your shape is incredible. All the time he's thought about you in this way, all the times he's wondered what you might look like in such a state, all these expectations are blown away by the reality of you in that moment. He swallows hard, his eyes still glued to you as he struggles to contain the heat that is coursing through him. Oh how he wants to touch you, to grasp at the soft curves of your body and claim them as his.

You’re standing before him shyly now unlacing our own breeches and kicking your socks away, shedding the last bit of clothing left upon your body. Rolan can only stare at you jaw slack you stand before him, all of you, naked in the glowing light of the moon and the glow of the candles in your room. You glance away embarrassed at your nakedness and cross your arms in front of your breasts to cover yourself. A heat rushes through you as you realize you’re bare for him to see.

His eyes are wide as he gazes upon you in your naked state. Your body is perfect, and even the slightest movement triggers a response in him. His eyes are glued on you and he cannot help but let out a low growl from the sight of you. The way you cover your breasts triggers something deep inside him, the urge to claim you even more intense now. His breath is heavy and his fingers twitch, wanting desperately to touch you.

Your eyes quickly meet his when you hear the low growl he emits. It makes your skin prickle with gooseflesh and heat pool between your thighs. You're now an arm’s length away from him but you can feel the heat his body is emitting and can see his tail turned up in attention.

He reaches out and grabs your arms, his grip firm and strong as he moves them away from your breasts. He wants to touch you, to have you completely vulnerable and submissive before him. His eyes burn hot as he looks you over, wanting to see you covered in every inch of his affection. He glances down at your body briefly for a moment, eyes burning, before he moves his hands back up. "Look at me, please."

You cast a shy glance to him as you allow him to move your hands from covering your breasts.

The way his eyes are glued to you sends shivers up your spine, your eyes flicking between his gaze and his mouth. You can feel your own breath grow heavier as you notice his eyes moving slowly down your body again. He glances at your lips as he speaks. "It is all so perfect. You are perfect."

“Rolan...”You trail off finally having the confidence to press your naked body to his in an intimate embrace. He's looking down at your form and he wants nothing more than to make you his in that moment. To take your maidenhood and be the first man to claim the affection of the rare and delicate flower that you are.

The way your body presses into his makes his flesh prickle and a wave of heat rush through him. You look so small in his arms, he can't help but wrap them around you and pull you closer. The desire he feels is burning hot, his body shaking slightly. Your body is so soft, so perfect. The way he can feel you heat against him. He stares at you, his eyes burning, his breath still heavy. He wants to claim your body, to make you all his.

You look up at him as you break the embrace and scoot onto the bed behind you, bringing his hand with you and guiding him on top of you.

When you guide him onto the bed, he cannot help but get excited at the way your body is moving his way. He is on top of you with his weight balanced on his arms, hands still cradling you to him while his arms cage you in. The way he is staring at you is making you shiver, and you can feel the way his body is moving against yours. This is an incredibly intimate moment, and he is loving every second of it. You see the look in his eyes, the desire, and the hunger.

As he cages your body in further, you bring your hands up to his hair and loosen it so it falls in a curtain around the both of you. A smile plays on your lips and you give him a soft, chaste kiss, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot between them. He sees your gaze looking over the planes of his face as you hold it in your hands. “Rolan...I'm ready.”

The way your legs move apart for him sends a jolt through his entire body. Seeing you spread your body and your most delicate parts for him makes his heart hammer in his chest. It's the most beautiful and arousing sight he could've ever imagined. He is breathless with desire, his hands gripping yours tightly as he can feel what has to happen next. "Are you sure?" he hisses, his eyes bright with want.

You nod in response. “Yes, I'm sure. I want you.”

This response sends more heat through him. His eyes burn hot with arousal. He moves slightly closer, his breath still heavy as he gets close to your face. He pauses for a moment, his mouth almost hovering against yours. He can feel himself wanting you even more now. He stares into your eyes and you can see the desire in his. His own cheeks are blushing, his body trembling and hot. The moment between you two is so heavy, so intense, and so erotic. "Are you ready?" he finally asks again.

You nod once more. “Yes…” Your answer is breathless

That sends another shiver through him. His lips part slightly as he moves down and kisses your neck, feeling your lips pouting slightly in response. He moves down further, kissing down your neck, down to your chin, down to your lips. He kisses you deeply, his hands moving down to your sides and tracing your figure. The sensation of your body beneath him is so sensual and exciting. Every inch of your skin and flesh is covered in heat and warmth, and your body is burning in a way he's never felt before. His kisses become harder, more frantic, and more intense.

He's kissing at your breasts and neck, a hand of his wandering to one of your breasts to knead it in his palms and caress at your nipples with his fingers. You whimper and cry out into his touch as he continues to kiss and explore your body. He is consumed, enthralled by the sounds his touch elicits from your kiss-swollen lips.

Each time your body reacts to his touching you, he is overcome with a rush of excitement. Every sound, every whimper, every moan, every movement you make is something that drives him wild. His body is trembling now as he continues to kiss you, his hand caressing your breast, his breath heating the skin beneath his kisses on your naked flesh.

His fingertips wander your body and you feel them making their way down the plane of your belly before sliding between your thighs. You feel his fingers tracing at your most intimate of parts and you can't help but moan into the intense pleasure he's plucking from your body as he traces between your folds gently.

The feeling is overwhelming, you feel as if every bit of your body is singing in pleasure.

“Ah! Rolan!” You yelp as you feel his fingers slowly slide inside of your body and hook against you. He begins slowly pumping in and out of your womanhood, his thumb rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves above. You've never felt such pleasure and your breathing is becoming ragged as he continues to tease at your body, the sound of your arousal squelching around his fingers and your pants echoing off the walls.

Rolan is kissing at your neck as he ensures you're properly prepared for the act that is about to come. He begins to feel the ring of muscles of your center tighten and he carefully removes his fingers and gazes at your breathless form lying beneath him.

He cannot help but gaze at you with adoration and desire, his eyes burning hot as you lie beneath him. Your body is writhing with want, your breath coming in quick, and the folds between your thighs are slick with your arousal.

You look at him and plead breathlessly. ”Please...”

His breath seems to catch at the word you use. His eyes become almost predatory as that is all that he needed. Rolan positions his hips to yours and slowly slides himself inside of your body, stretching you around the shaft of his cock. At first it's a searing burn, tight and tense but then gives way to a pleasant sensation of fullness. Rolan stills when he hears you cry out in pain beneath him. He pauses upon hearing your small cry of discomfort, not sure if he should continue. For a moment, he remains still as he looks down at you to gauge your reaction, his eyes searching your face for any sign he should stop.

Your eyes have tears in them but you look up at him to reassure him you're okay. “I'm okay...just adjusting.”

That's all he needs. His body begins to move, his breath heavy and his pace slow at first but gradually gaining speed and rhythm. He slowly thrusts into you and every glide of his body in and against yours makes you arc your back in pleasure. You can feel every inch of his body inside yours, the sensation of his manhood stirring heat between your thighs. Your hands come to wrap around him and grasp at the flesh of his back as he thrusts into you. You can't help but moan as he makes you feel sensations your own fingers have never granted you with every thrust of him into you.

His thrusts, once languid and slow, gradually moving harder and faster against you. Your legs instinctively come up to wrap around his hips and you cry out when he begins to hit a single spot inside your body over and over at this new angle. You know he's losing himself to you as he grunts and growls into sporadic kisses against your lips and neck, his tail thrashing wildly, bed frame rocking into the wall. “Ah oh gods Rolan I can't...it feels so good I'm- ngh!” Your words are broken by the pleasure tightening between your legs.

Rolan is lost to his urges and he begins to growl deeply, his teeth gritted, fangs on display as he ruts into you. His body is hot, flushed, filled with desire to complete you. You can hear his ragged breaths mixed with primal sounds resonating deep in his chest. It's a sound that makes your womanhood throb with want and your body shudder with a deep primal need for more.

You're panting hard and the sensations are too much, you feel the coil inside you tightening quickly ready to snap and you call out to him, your release is closing in. “I-I think I'm going to come! Please don't stop!”

He hears your pleading and continues his pace and suddenly he too feels his own climax rapidly approaching. It's all so much, the heat between your bodies, your sweet cries of pleasure and the wet sounds of skin meeting skin, the desire to fill you with a part of himself. He's holding out until he hears you cry out, your hips suddenly thrashing against him wildly, your hands clawing at his back as your climax rips through your body violently. The sensations and noises you're making have him speed his thrusts up before his hips stutter inside of you and he can feel your orgasm milking him for every ounce of spend he can give. He groans low and bites down on your shoulder as he fills your womb with his seed, slowly rutting himself into you as he comes.

You lie there together, panting in the afterglow of your mutual climaxes.

He continues to lie on top of you, his eyes closed and his breath heavy. He's still inside of you and still shaking slightly, all the heat coming off of his body. He lifts his head away from you, his eyes opening slowly. He gazes into yours, his eyes burning hot as he looks down at you.

You look up at him eyes half-lidded, lips parted in a small smile as your chest heaves.

Rolan leans down and gives you a kiss, his body still trembling slightly. You can feel his heart still thumping in his chest as your mouths meet. His tongue moves to trace at your lips, and his breath is still heavy from the intense pleasure. His kiss is sensual, comforting in the haze of your lovemaking. As he kisses you, he wraps his arms between your body and the bed and brings his tail to wrap around your calf. He's clinging to you intimately and you feel your heart skip a beat.

He pulls you even closer to him, pressing his chest against you, the both of you sticking together slightly as the light sheen of sweat on your skin cools. He’s holding you tightly, his body still trembling, but slowly regaining its composure. You can feel the heat and the pulse coming off of him. Your bodies, your souls are still connected in this moment of deep and genuine intimacy. It's a beautiful thing, and he knows that even from the way you look at him. He presses his body against yours and his tail snakes around your leg, brushing against you softly as he remains inside of you.

He breaks the kiss and asks how you feel, carefully bringing himself to hover slightly above you. You respond with a soft, love-drunk smile. “I feel...like I'm floating.”

He chuckles softly, his tail slowly slipping down your leg further. He nods at your response, his eyes still locked on yours "And I feel like I'm on fire. But in a good way." The warmth of the moment lingers with both of you as you lie there, staring at one another. You can see the desire in his eyes, but his breath is calming now, his body relaxed a bit more.

He notices you grimace briefly and chirp in discomfort. He's still inside of you but the mixture of your arousal and his seed is starting to uncomfortably seep out from you. Rolan notices this too and pulls out gently, trying his best not to make too much of a mess. His breath is still heavy and his face flushed with desire. He lies down next to you in bed as he puts his arm around you, his tail wrapping around you again. He stares at you, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of desire and affection. He's still breathing deeply and his body is still hot from your lovemaking.

You turn towards him and place a hand on his cheek to stroke his face and his claws gently scratch your back. The moment between you is indeed one of pure intimacy, as you lie wrapped in each other's arms, his hand still caressing your face, your nails gently scratching his back. You two share a look, your eyes locking softly as man and woman. The desire between you is still hot and heavy, your bodies still hot and flushed, and the moment fills you both with warmth and happiness.  He can't help but smile softly, his eyes on yours as you look at him. He's still wrapped around you, his arm still snaked about your body and his tail is wrapped around you like a heavy rope tying you together. This moment is so perfect and intimate. He looks so soft and adoring, a hard contrast to his normal grumpy persona everyone else sees. It makes you chuckle and he's curious what has you giggling. He sees you chuckle at him and raises a brow, curious about what is making you laugh so.

“You just are so different right now...everyone thinks you're this grumpy, stoic wizard but not to me.”

As you say this, he can feel himself blush slightly. He shifts a bit in the bed, embarrassed. He feels as if he has just been seen naked, in a way. This is the kind of intimacy that makes him feel extremely vulnerable with you. For a moment, he looks aside in embarrassment but then finally meets your gaze again, smiling softly.

“I quite like this side of you...it's nice.”

His blush deepens at this response. He sighs and looks down, then back up to your eyes with a shy smile. It's rare that someone gets through to him this much, especially with his shell of sarcasm and grumpiness. It's nice to know you enjoy this side of him.

You snuggle closer to him and he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

He can feel his heart racing at these moments of intimacy and affection. The warmth of you being in his arms is one of the most calming things he has ever experienced. He presses himself into you and you can feel the heat coming off his body, he's definitely still flushed from what happened between you two. He kisses your head and wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close to him.

“Rolan...thank you.”

Your simple words cause him to blush deeply, his cheeks feeling like they're on fire. He smiles slightly and pulls you in a little bit closer to him, his body still feeling a bit warm from the intimacy between you both. He closes his eyes as he pulls you against him and speaks softly, his breath a little shaky. “No... I should thank you for tonight. It was... something I needed.”

“Something you needed?” You picked your head up to look at him curiously.

He sighs softly, his hand stroking your hair. You look soft and beautiful in his arms, a very comforting contrast to his rough and gruff exterior. “You know, I haven't... let anyone in like this. No one... not in a long time.”

You smile and nuzzle close before speaking. “Then I'm glad you were my first.”

Your words almost catch him off guard with their intimacy. He chuckles softly and his body is still trembling slightly, the arousal still lingering from between you both. He kisses your back gently and holds you closer to him for a moment longer.

“I was nervous...that I wouldn't be good enough for you since I was a you know...virgin. In truth you have a lot of my firsts now…” Your face turns read once more as your words trail off.

A smile spreads across his face when you admit this, his eyes beaming at you with affection. His hand runs lightly across your back and he nods in agreement with you. The idea of being your first means a lot to him not simply because he was your first intimate experience but because you trusted him enough to choose him.

“I'm glad it was with you. Perhaps I sound silly but ever since we met...I wanted it to be you.”

Your words are like music to his ears. Hearing this brings him another smile, one that is soft and heartwarming. He continues to caress your back softly, his heart swelling with emotions.

You sigh softly. “In truth I'm not sure where we go from here....we are both adults and I know you've got your own goings on. If tonight is all I get with you then... I am happy. You fulfilled a wish of mine and for that I can't ask for more. If that is the case I do think I'd be sad I ruined out friendship by being selfish...”

Your words make his heart sink, his breath catching in his chest as he hears you say this. He realizes that, in the heat of the moment, you may have gotten the wrong impression. He shifts his body a bit, moving onto his side so that he's now facing you fully. He speaks in a calm and soothing voice, one that has no edge of sarcasm or anger to it at all. He speaks to you with all honesty. “I... I want you. To keep seeing you. I... do not want it to end like this.”

Your eyes snap to his.

Your heart stops and your eyes widen.

“You want...to keep seeing me? Truly?” Your eyes are watering and it feels like your words are caught in your throat.

He raises a hand to brush the hair out of your face and his eyes are a mix of passion and intensity, but also affection.

“Truly.” It's an honest and solemn answer. He brings a hand to your cheek, and his eyes still hold the same fire and adoration. He nods at you a few times as he continues to hold you tightly, his words still being honest and genuine.

“As in...to court and be a...couple?” the words leave your mouth uncertain.

He smiles softly and his cheeks are burning up. He nods his head frantically a couple more times. This feels real, like he's finally let himself be vulnerable with you in these moments after he closed himself off for so long. You spring into his chest and he feels you start to cry as you bury yourself into him,

Your tears are the last thing he expected, but the instant he feels your body shaking and trembling his arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him. He rubs your back gently as you cry, his hand a soft and calming sensation compared to his usual stoic and prickly exterior.

You mumble softly, “Thank you.”

He rubs your back gently and holds you closely, his heart filled with a warmth he has never felt before. It feels so good to be this close to you, a woman he can be honest and open with instead of using sarcasm and grouchy behavior to keep people away. He lets you cry into him, he doesn't mind the tears and the only thing he wants to do right now is hold you.

Your tears dry and you bring your face to his and he sees how wonderful you are and how much you truly care. “I was so worried that tonight was going to be it for us I just...I am so happy right now.”

He smiles softly and wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The idea that you thought tonight could be the last time you see him breaks his heart. You see his expression, his eyes shining with a hint of tears. How could he let you feel this way? He pulls you in a bit closer to him and holds you tightly.

“I'm sorry for crying,” You wipe your tears away,“I just...feel overwhelmed. Good things don't happen to me often.”

He shakes his head and caresses your face. You see that he is still a bit emotional, that this whole experience means a lot to him. He is used to keeping people at a distance. And you're right there in his arms, crying, vulnerable, but he feels no desire to pull away. No sarcasm, no anger, just the desire to caress the woman standing before him now. He leans forward and kisses you gently, and then he holds you tightly again, not allowing a single inch between you two.

You feel him wordlessly comforting you as you curl in on him and fall asleep in his arms. The silence doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. The two of you are in each other's arms and have just made love. It's a beautiful thing, this intimacy. You begin to feel yourself drifting off to a comfortable sleep, the feeling of his body still pressing against yours keeps you secure and safe. You can't sleep any better than this, knowing you have his strong and protective arm protecting you. You fall asleep, your heart still beating with joy from this evening knowing that your first would not be your last.

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & WIP Tuesday

Tagging @voidika @raresvtm @josephseedismyfather @noodlecupcakes @imogenkol @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @derelictheretic @davrinsgriffons @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who'd like to join.

Got three Hellaverse songs for my The UnTitledverse and Life, Despair & Monsters series and one FC5 WIP for The Silver Chronicles, and since we're coming up on "No John January", I thought to might as well show off one final snippet of John right on this post before never mentioning him for a whole-ass month (instead the only Seed siblings to get that honor would be the rest of them, mostly his brothers, right up until "Only Faith February", where she's the only Seed to talk about).

Listen and read below the cut:

First song is for The UnTitled Ventures saga of The UnTitledverse, where I imagine Joaquin Lockwood would be singing this lullaby as an assurance to both Eveline and Elise that if anything were to happen to him, he'll make sure they will be fine. His daughters are pretty much his driving motivation in his decisions throughout this saga. Listen below:

"It always seems more quiet in the dark It always feels so stark How silence grows under the moon Constellations gone so soon

I used to think that I was bold I used to think love would be fun Now all my stories have been told except for one

As the stars start to align I hope you take it as a sign That you'll be okay Everything will be okay."

The next song is for my Hellaverse WIP Smile Tunes. Now in the scene this song takes place in, Krunk and Samuel are on a date at Ozzie's, but when Blitzø and Stolas are outed by Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, neither stand up for the IMP boss nor the Goetia Prince, in order to not be outed as dating, which a dramatic point for Krunk and his boss (as well as Krunk and the Morningstar's Royal Advisor he's dating). This sets up an arc that eventually pays off in this WIP's version of "Mastermind". [CW: This song involves references to sexual references]

"Is that Blitzo? So you're showin' your face? Hey, everybody, this guy's a total disgrace! Some nerve you've got to comment on a relationship Last I checked, your love life is a pile of shit!"

"Oh, Blitzo? I used to date him." ("Date him, date him!")

"Oh, Verosika, you're here."

"I'd stroke him, I'd fellate him ("Fellate him, fellate him!") Yeah, but when it was my turn ("My turn, my turn!") He did no reciprocatin' ("What a dick-bag!") A selfish imp in the sheets, and just as bad in the streets A reckless, heartbreaking freak!"

"Who's that at your table? Is your date a demon prince? Stolas, is that you?"

"Are you sleepin' with an imp?"

"Woo! My dark lord, how the mighty do fall You used to have a smokin' wife, a kid, you had it all I hope you didn't give it up so you and him could get it up!"

And lastly, this song is a singing simplification of how Icarus manages to resolve the gap between him and Hatter, managing to reach a resolution where avatar and parasite can finally communicate with one another in their original WIP from my Life, Despair & Monsters series. And yes... it involved Icarus drinking a spiked tea that one of his alters, Xavier, left out for him in order to get both him and Hatter to speak to each other through their weird-ass dimension breaking connection. Since Moxxie's the only person singing in this song while Blitzø's part only involves dialogue, I though it was only necessary for Icarus/Hatter to since Moxxie's part:

[CW: References to recreational drug use and sexual references]

"Hatter*? I can't see you God, this smells awful! What's that music? Is that you? Is this a prank? Because I swear to-"**

"It is no prank, bitch!"

"Hey! Why do you sound like that?"

"Because you, my precious little bitch boy-"

"Stop it, Hatter*!"

"-are tripping balls!"

"No! What? How could this be? I've never tried acid, shrooms or DMT It's a bad trip, oy gevalt! Of course, Hatter*, this would be your fault!

My lungs are full of honesty Would you promise me That you won't judge?"

"Yes, bitch!"

"Not trying to divulge too much But I'm in too deep, so first of all

Fuck you!"

"What?!"

"This is just typical Well, two can play at this game of dismay 'Cause if I'm here where you're causing frustration*** Xavier and Hinode must be experiencing their own hallucinations!****

Why do you hurt me so?"*****

"I know!"

"Why must you push our friends away?"***** "I push my friends away!"

"Why does it seem like a recurring theme That you alienate with your toxic routine?"

"I don't know, eventually everyone goes!"

"'Cause you're thoughtless and cruel and you'll end up alone!"

"Why, Icarus*, why Have you held your true feelings inside?"

"I am scared of rejection!"

"Why, Icarus, why Do you reach so close for the sun?"******

"Because I'm an arrogant perfectioni- Wait a minute!"*******

"No need to hide We accept your true feelings, so promise me!"

"That I can do..." "...to be true!"

"The world is your anus so peg it with honesty!"

"Ugh..."

"I've been a jackass, it's true!"

"I've been a jackass, it's true!"

"But as soon as we're back to our normal selves."

"I will be a better friend than I was before!"

"Be better at speaking my mind!"

"And together, we can begin To become fine!"

[*Changed names to Icarus and Hatter since that's the focus. **Their not in Hell, so Satan's name wouldn't make sense. ***Since Icarus is only speaking to Hatter due to their shared connection being high enough, it wouldn't make sense for Hatter to be experiencing his own hallucinations when he's sharing it with Icarus, so just changed it to the reason below. ****Changed for the reasons above to Icarus noticing that Hatsukami and Xavier aren't with him and Hatter and makes the safe assumption that they're elsewhere in the recesses of his tripping mind. *****Changed it to collective pronouns (us/our) since Hatter's actions isn't just affecting Icarus. ******Icarus doesn't have a partner yet and also sex-averting so just changed it to a inside joke of his name. *******Icarus does not enjoy the joke that much despite being self-aware of the similarities between him and his famous namesake. >< Also Icarus saying "Ugh" towards Hatter's words is more an annoyed groan towards Hatter's lack of filter (where Icarus just finally gives up on trying to get Hatter to speak in a less vulgar manner) rather than the description of the action itself.]

Here's a WIP snippet for You're Almost Like Family where John finishes conversing with Silva at the gas station... before his loop restarts once more: [CW: Character death and minor description of gore]

The Deputy regarded him with a stoic mask, clearly processing the information he revealed to her.

It reminded John of Jacob in a way, but also of Faith, although the latter had a knack for copying qualities of the former.

The Deputy was quite a paranoid woman, as he's come to discover in these loops. She was, for the most part, closed-off to her allies, and held distrust towards strangers, even more so towards those she perceived as her enemies. She lacked belief in the Father and the Project long before she came to arrest his brother.

He was aware he had a hand in that, even if he doesn't know how. Although he wondered if this distrust went further back before even her arrival in the county.

The Deputy tapped her fingers against the belt around her hips, chewing against her cheek, before exhaling through her nose.

Moment of truth; did she believe him, or was he going to die a brutal death again? Though John was no longer a stranger to death, how the Deputy kills him was always a gamble of how much it was going to hurt.

Especially since she had no weapons, and there was a smashed plate nearby.

When her grey eyes gazed to him, she responded, "And I suppose since that directly goes against your family's whole mission of converting me to your cult, you'd want to inform me of this as soon as possible. Yeah, that weirdly makes too much sense."

John felt relief wash over him once more, his grin even more excited now that he's made actual progress. Though he wasn't finished yet, it was a step closer to his goal of saving her soul now that she believed him.

"Exactly," John told her, though toned his excitement down when she eyed him as if he was the strange one, "Now that we're on the same page, I want to propose a temporary truce between you and the Resistance in Holland Valley. Until this threat is successfully dealt with."

The Deputy raised a brow, inquiring, "And what makes you think this mystery killer is going to stick to Holland Valley?"

John didn't actually know. He's just been going off of what he's witnessed from previous loops. He doesn't actually have evidence to suggest most of her deaths were deliberate assassinations or sabotage.

However, what he did know is that wherever the Deputy was, her killer would likely be somewhere nearby.

He of course couldn't tell the Deputy any of this; the first time he told her, she called him a horrendous liar, and the last time he tried again, she outright told him she didn't believe him before attempting to escort him to the judgement of Fall's End... only to enter a truck that he could only guess had been planted with an explosion.

That... had been amongst his least pleasant memories in these loops.

And it wasn't like he could prove it to her. No matter what, the circumstances kept changing, too many factors were always shifting and it was rare for the Deputy to do or say the same thing twice as a result.

So instead John spoke as close to the truth as possible, if only to ease the Deputy's uncertainty, "Call it a hunch, dear. I've prosecuted and defended many in my time as an attorney, and if there's something I've learned about killers, they like to remain at a distance that isn't too far from their prey."

The Deputy did that curious little hum that he's always found endearing; it was short, too short for his liking, but he liked the sound of it. Made her seem beyond the remorseless killer full of wrath that his faithful had fallen to.

Thankfully, she didn't argue against his words.

"So a truce until we can dispatch whoever is after me?" she repeated his conditions, looking to him for confirmation, "That's it, right?"

While John was tempted into trying to push the Deputy into a deal that would benefit his family, he didn't want to fuck up this chance of gaining her cooperation in dealing with this threat.

Though John knew she'd be tempted in utilizing this in trying to gain her own conditions to her agreement, he decided to add.

"Yes, that's all I offer. Neither your rebellion nor my faithful will shed blood in this Valley. I'm unwilling to negotiate anything else until this threat is dealt with."

It'd do wonders for him if she'd stopped dying altogether.

She seemed displeased by that, and opened her mouth to argue.

Instead he retorted, "Besides, wouldn't you rather be alive if wanted to get Deputy Hudson back? I think it'd be counterintuitive if you wasted precious time better spent on hunting down your assassin."

She glared at him, but conceded in silence.

"Alright," she replied, reluctantly adding, "I'll agree to this truce. But I'm not sure how likely the Resistance will believe you. Do you have evidence on hand that could help better help us in convincing them?"

...Evidence?

John's previous joy was replaced by frustration at himself. How could I not have thought of that?!

"Uh, not on me, no," he admitted sheepishly, cringing at overlooking such an important detail, "But I'll gather it up back at the Ranch and Gate."

In other words, he was gonna have to quickly find something that would convince those sinner's to not disagree with his offer.

"I guess we'll rendezvous again when we do," the Deputy stated, and for that John could almost feel himself relax until she added, "But if it turns out to be an elaborate trap-"

John cut her off, "Yes, I understand, Deputy. I'm not going to deceive you into an ambush. You have my word."

The Deputy didn't seem completely convinced, and he suspected his word didn't mean much to her, but she was going to have to be satisfied with it.

"If that's all, I'm going to head back to Fall's End," the Deputy said, turning to leave. While John didn't believe Fall's End was the safest option for her, he knew he really can't do much about that.

He did think about using Bliss to incapacitate and bring her back to his Gate, but he ultimately decided against it; not only would he have a pissed-off Deputy who'd be even more resistant going after him, which could lead to Hudson's escape as well, but the assassin has proven to have an unfair expertise in infiltrating his family's troops.

It'd be a redundant effort on his part. At least with the Sinner's home base, the Deputy would be surrounded by her allies, and if she believes anything he's said thus far, would be on guard.

Though before she left, he couldn't help but ask one last question.

"You know, Deputy," John said, earning her attention, "I know neither of us are on the best of terms, but since it shouldn't be such a big deal to you, I'd appreciate it if you told me what your name is?"

Her brows furrowed as her expression shifted from confused to surprised realization, "You don't know what my name is?"

John blinked, cocking his head before shaking it, "No?"

"Hadn't Nancy, I don't know, given you my files beforehand?"

Ah, so she's assumed we knew she'd joined the force, John mused. Obviously she believed the arrest was an orchestrated ambush, and not God connecting their fates together. He'd clear up that misconception then.

"Nancy wasn't in a position to have access of such documents, I'm afraid. And given her role, she wouldn't have been able to inform us about your addition on the Marshal's taskforce," he informed her.

The Deputy hummed, looking to the side before her grey eyes returned to his blue, "And if I don't tell you?"

John just shrugged, "Then there's not much I can do then, is there, Deputy? Although, I have to ask, do you really want me to keep calling you Deputy for the remainder of the Reaping?"

She snorted, "I wouldn't have cared much until you kept pronouncing it that way."

He found offense to that, but refrained from making a comment as the Deputy looked down in contemplation, her stoic face giving away nothing.

When she looked back to him, his excitement was short-lived when he noticed a shadow enter through the station's door.

"It's-"

No words were quick enough to escape out of his throat when the back and front of the Deputy's skull exploded into chunks of flesh, brain and blood that sprayed onto him, with the bullet propelling through towards its next target.

John could see how it slowly made its way towards the bridge of his nose, the Deputy's fresh corpse limply falling forwards towards him at much the same pace.

He forced his eyes to gaze towards the assassin's figure, feeling the agonizing effects of the loop preparing his next restart.

He wondered if the assassin had followed him or the Deputy here, or if they had just been passing by.

Regardless, they had just nullified all his efforts to get to this point.

Desperate to not waste the remaining seconds left before either the bullet or the loop take him, he stared hard at the figure afar, their weapon drawn, so effortlessly quick, faster than he'd seen Silva draw her own.

He noticed the assassin was heavily draped in the Sinners usual clothing. And although difficult, John could also notice the unshaven stubble across the culprit's unfamiliar face.

John's eyes tried to capture more of what he saw of the assassin but the pounding ache once more resonated into his head as he-

The chapel's door's closed, indicating the Deputy and Joseph's departure, and all John could do to avoid falling off the podium behind his brother and sister again was reach for the wood behind him to steady his shaking legs.

He felt nauseous from being that close to such gore, but soon it was replaced with jubilation as he now learned of a new detail about the Deputy's killer.

But even that feeling didn't last when he realized where and when he was.

With no way to better process his raging frustration at his efforts being reduced to nothing, he articulated all of anger through one single word.

"FUCK!" he shouted, alarming Jacob and spooking Faith.

[123countwithme]

Captain Feathersword Story Drafts

A bunch of Captain Feathersword stories I never got to finish. For @honorarytitlesaskblog . But anyone can use these on two conditions.

You credit me.

Tag me in your creations. I WANT TO READ THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's all enjoy!

(Story drafts undercut)

The Rain That Keeps Me Awake (OG Wiggles & Captain)

"Hey, Captain Feathersword you okay?" Greg asked as he watched the pirate pace back and forth across the wiggles house floors.

"No no no no no oh barrels this isn't good at all," Captain muttered to himself.

"I'm sure your pirate ship will be fine. It's been through a lot worse storms than this one." Greg tried reassuring the Captain.

"I know it has been through a WHOLE LOT worse matie..." Captain replied with a small smile.

"Then why are you pacing back and forth Captain?" Anthony asked as he was sitting on a chair.

"Thinkin'"

"About your ship?" Jeff chimed in.

"Well yeah... Do you think I could go back to my ship?" Captain looked to the wiggles with deep hope in his eyes.

"By the looks of things outside I don't think you'll be getting back anytime soon I'm afraid," Murry said looking out the window at the storm going on. Captain sighed quietly as the hope in his eyes died away.

"Hey, you could have a sleepover with us!" Jeff sprung up excitedly as the idea came to mind. The other wiggles perked up at this.

"Mhm, you could Captain Feathersword I mean you can't really go anywhere anyway." Greg nodded.

"Oh uh-"

"Come on Captain it'll be fun! We promise." Anthony swung an arm over Captain's shoulders.

"It's just that-"

"What? what's wrong?" Jeff asked. 

"Don't worry about it."

The Wiggles did just that and shrugged it off (literally shrugging).

(END) 

NOTE: This inspired my Dorothy and Captain fic. Captain loves his ship soooo much!

...

The Story - Current Wiggle Gen

"...The seas were as rough as a dog destroying a chew toy, and the waves were as curly and swirly as a curly wurly treat..." Captain Feathersword told the crowd of Wiggles with an adventurous tone.

.... LATER ON

"Now I must be off. I've got some things to go do."

"Can we give you a hand, Captain?" One of the wiggles asked.

"Unfortunately, no, it's only for pirates to do."

Wags goes up to Captain and woofs wanting to come along with him.

"Sorry, Wags Matey, it's only for the captain to deal with."

Wags was disappointed, and he whimpered. Captain gave him a pat and a scratch behind his ear.

The others looked at one another, each as confused as the person they looked at.

"That sounds mighty important, Captain. May I ask what it is that you have to do?" Tsehay asked

"Sorry Tsehay, it can't be spoken about." Captain said, crossing his arms and lightly shaking his head with a sorry expression.

"Crikey super duper important," Simon noted eyebrows raised in surprise.

(END)

NOTE: One of my ideas of the Wiggles finding out that Captain is trans-FTM (Female To Male). Yes played with the idea that he was trans.

...

Sometimes Drives Us Round the Corner It's Captain Feathersword.

Note: Now I didn't write anything for this but thought it was funny.

My authors note from my draft:

I was initially looking for Captain singing Twinkle Twinkle but found myself watching a clip from a 2012 farewell concert and it made me chuckle. I will be making a literal story about him being unable to drive around corners but have what they were hinting at.

(END)

...

Emotions Are Everywhere - Third Gen Wiggles (Emma, Simon, Anthony, & Lachy)

Captain is an emotional soul

He truly is.

He can overreact.

The truth is he can't always help it. Sure there are times when he does it on purpose. To be dramatic. But there are also times when it's not on purpose and it's his raw emotions.

(END)

Note: I liked the idea that Captain can feel emotions stronger than others and not only for comedic relief.

Authors note from my draft:

This is a story about the first time Lachy, Simon, and Emma realized his "raw emotions"

...

And that brings us to the end of the Captain story drafts I'm willing to share. The others are personal topics that only I can write about which I'll post in my own time. (Basically venting stories). I hope this helps/ inspires. Happy writing!

[bonezone44]

Muddy Waters, pt 5. (18+)

'Webbing'

Ezra x F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: A brief look into Joel’s past with Tess and his current feelings about you. Joel explains the “situation” to Ellie. You have a fantasy about Joel before another argument with Ezra.

Word Count: 4,6k

(story masterlist) (main masterlist)

tags: NSFW 18+. Intuitive!Reader. Afab!Reader (she/they). Southern!Reader. Established Ezra x F!Reader. Polyam. No use of Y/N.

This Chapter: implied p-in-v, pillow-humping (f), dirty talk

Author's Note: I'm back, baby! I love writing this fucking story. I just needed the holiday break.

+++++++

Joel couldn’t feel a thing. Couldn’t conjure the appropriate sensation.

His body was there and all pieces were accounted for. All his nerve endings were functioning properly–a little too properly if you asked the growing soreness in his calves and knees. And he knew he should feel something. He should feel a heated tug and pull and burning soulful ache. He should feel his whole body sparking and warming and melting into the woman in his lap.

But when Tess started kissing him, he felt nothing. He could recognize the presence of her wet lips and tongue against his own. He acknowledged the weight of her body resting on his legs and her skin pressing into his chest. He was aware of her. He was aware of the contact being made between their bodies.

And he knew he should feel something. Anything. He knew it wasn’t the liquor and pills–the man was stone cold sober. He knew he owed her his life, his protection, his every waking moment.

This was Tess, of all people. She was so beautiful and patient and kind. She was clever. She understood him and his temper. Understood the rawness of his hurt. She knew how to guide him when he turned volcanic. She knew how to aim his fire.

She took all the thoughts and responsibilities away from Joel. She allowed him to be a mindless weapon. Allowed him to be nothing but the shell of a man–heart and innards done ripped out at the loss of his whole world, his daughter, his Sarah.

Joel’s body reacted naturally to Tess’ hand around his length, growing hard in her grip. He tried to focus on it–focus on what little warmth there was left inside him, searching for a thought or memory to stroke the fires on his own. He tried to feel for Tess the way she wanted him to–the way he knew she deserved.

And goddamnit.

Tess deserved anything and everything for putting up with Joel’s ungrateful ass. She deserved to be cherished and attended to. Deserved to be worshiped and adored for the forgiving patience she gave to Joel’s relentless ire.

Tess deserved the whole world.

But Joel couldn’t find it within himself to give it to her.

He could give her this, though. He would let her climb on top of him and take whatever she wanted for however long she wanted it. He would watch her as she bounced in his lap. He would tug her nipples and suck her skin. He would thrust up into her and meet her rhythm–play with her clit when she got close.

There was love–yes. He loved her. He cared for her deeply. He was comfortable, too. He had no qualms about sharing his body with her. He had no problems giving her the powerful releases she needed to clear her mind and be at ease.

But he couldn’t find a spark to ignite to truly desire her.

And he fucking hated himself for it.

On top of all the other failures that piled up over time.

And when she was done taking what she wanted, he would pour himself a drink.

To wash down all the vile shame he felt for not wanting her back.

+++++

Joel had regrets with you already and he was steadily chewing on them.

He had been so cocky when you came over that first night. He felt fired up like some stud bull, luring away a married woman from her Less-Than-Man. He felt like the height of power and wanted to rub it in Ezra’s pathetic face. Wanted to make him feel like some sad little boy who didn’t know what the Big & Mighty Joel was capable of stealing from him.

God, he was so embarrassed.

‘Cause that’s not what Joel wanted. That’s not how Joel really felt deep down inside. A part of him got off on cuckolding Ezra, sure. But it was a superficial fantasy. A friction founded on a flat perspective of simple roles. Like you were all cartoon characters. Never growing, never changing, repeating the same things episode after episode.

And that hadn’t been what drew Joel to you.

You drew Joel to you.

Your eyes, your skin, your voice. The way you walked and talked and flirted. Your accent–Goddamn!--he could listen to you talk all day. It was your smile and laughter, too. The way your whole body lit up like a Christmas tree when you were happy or amused. Flashing and sparkling and shining bright.

And when he saw you in the toolshed and he saw your sunniness had started to burn, he put an end to it right away. He had enough voices in his head lashing out and whipping him. He didn’t need to introduce another.

But then… you listened. You stayed. You didn’t spout off and go stomping away.

You respected his request immediately.

It warmed something deep and forgotten in his chest. That you wanted him enough–trusted him enough–to acquiesce. It was like you were dancing all over again, alone in his living room, and moving the way his body asked you to.

Shit.

Every time he was with you, he was always remembering one thing and forgetting another. With you, he forgot about the past twenty years of pain and suffering and all his buried stories. He forgot about the ease with which he could pull a trigger, throw a punch, beat the light out of someone’s eyes till they were limp mounds of flesh with blood pooling around them.

He also forgot about Ellie and his new life with her and her ability to come and go through the house as she pleased (what the hell was he thinking fooling around with you in the kitchen of all places?). He forgot about Tommy and Maria and their newborn son, Mateo.

And to top it all off with a shiny little cherry, he had forgotten why he went to the toolshed in the first place. He was all distracted by the thought of having a hidden moment alone with you, aching to get close and touch your skin and feel the good he felt in your presence.

And then,

With sprinkles, he had forgotten there was a fucking window in the back of the General Store–even if the blinds were always down and closed.

And…

Well…

He figured you had forgotten about that, too.

Joel needed to get his shit together and he knew it. He knew he needed to stop worrying about getting his dick wet in some other man’s wife and take care of his own fucking family.

But…

God, forgetting felt so fucking good. It felt so good to forget two hazy decades of liquor, pills, and violence. It felt so good to not think about all the repairs and maintenance due and to sit and glow by your side. It felt so good to be romantic and tender and affectionate. And to feel sexual desire for someone and have them mirror it right back–hungry, aching, and eager.

Fuck.

Joel thought that part of him was long dead. Dead and buried with the cartilage in his knees.

But you revived it somehow. You inspired a chase in him through your ever-shifting maze. Forced him to redevelop his heart-racing hyperfocus. The more you reacted, the more he figured you out. The more you softened to him, the more he defined your edges and angles.

He hadn’t understood his curiosity in the beginning. It had felt like a grating pull in your direction. But instead of ire at the end of the rope, there was ivy–blooming and expanding through him like lush summer overgrowth. As if your fluid presence quenched his arid earth.

He wasn’t a desert, as he had thought–unable to absorb rushing, flooding waters.

He was rich soil.

Patient and waiting.

Waiting for someone like you.

And even though he felt like some stupid, forgetful piece of shit, he had no doubt that he could make the two of you work. He meant it when he said he didn’t give a shit about the people in Jackson. They were all background noise to him.

But he did care about his family. He cared deeply about Tommy and Maria and little Mateo. And he cared exponentially about Ellie.

And when Ellie came home talking about how she heard from someone who heard from someone else that he had been fooling around with you, Joel had to provide her some kind of answer. Mid-thought. Mid-chew.

Joel threw his hand up in a huff. He was sitting at the kitchen table, slouched in his chair and ruminating when Ellie interrupted him.

"But that's not true, right? Isn't that like… cheating?" Ellie asked, seemingly fearing his answer.

He ran his fingers through his hair, off guard and unprepared. "It's not cheating if everybody knows and is… okay with it." 

"Oh." She seemed relieved. She tilted her head and hummed. "But I thought a couple was only two." She narrowed her eyes at Joel. 

"Well, you know, Ellie, uhh…" He was digging around in his brain for the right words. Grasping for whatever he could. He echoed your sentiments. "You don't have to pick just one. If you don't want to. If… everybody is okay with it."

Her face lit up in surprise. "You don't have to pick?" Her eyes went off to some distant thought. "You can have… both?"

"If it's okay with everyone," Joel added. Not like he had spoken to Ezra about you before all of this … happened, exactly. He worked his jaw, clenched his fist–rubbing some invisible scuff on the table. 

Ellie hummed–pleased, satisfied. She walked over to the cabinet, retrieving a glass for herself before filling it in the sink. She stopped.

“And how did you know she liked you back?” She asked over her shoulder. “How did you know she'd say yes?”

Joel shrugged with a smile. “I didn't really. But I had a feeling in my gut, you know? A real strong feeling that she would, but …I didn't know for sure.” He rubbed his palms together before opening them back up wide. “I've been wrong before.”

Ellie turned around. Pursed her lips. “And you weren't like… scared?”

Joel had had quite a bit of liquid courage that night. And he didn't want Ellie to think that that was a good choice to make when dealing with sensitive matters such as these. He imagined it would have gone quite differently if he had been sober. "Part of me was scared, yeah.” He nodded. “Another part of me figured it was worth the risk."

"You weren't scared that like… you'd stop being friends… if she said no?"

Joel then realized that Ellie was speaking on a personal nature. He chose his words with care. "There was that risk, yeah. But you gotta think…” He sighed. “Well you gotta think about a lotta things, really. Whether it's worth losing. Whether it's worth speaking up.” He started shaking his head to emphasize his point. “‘Cause it changes… everything.” He said with his brows high and his eyes wide. “Changes how you see each other. Changes how you talk to each other, you know, and uhh…. Changes how you see yourself, too."

Ellie nodded, staring off into a distant memory in her mind. "Yeah, yeah it does." She sighed. She drank a sip of water, and nodded down at her glass. When she looked back up, she was smiling. "I'm proud of you, Joel," she said, squaring her shoulders. 

“For what?”

“For goin’ for it, dude!” She cheered. She put her hand on her hip and shook her head with a grin. “Didn’t know ya had it in ya.”

Joel rolled his eyes and sighed, fighting back a smile. “Go… get ready for dinner,” he said, dismissing her with his hand.

Now, Joel was exhausted. He had had a long day of repairs and his legs were sore and aching from his knees all the way down to his toes. His lower back was tight and burning. He felt a new callous developing on the curve of his right thumb. His eyes were dry and itchy and he was so hungry that his stomach was starting to eat itself. The brief moment he had had with you in the morning had his mind chewing more than his mouth could, which led to him skipping lunch. 

All he wanted to do for the remainder of the evening was have a nice dinner with his family at the dining hall and then go right back home to sleep, spread out long and alone in his big, comfortable bed.

And yet those plans quickly changed when he and Ellie stepped out the front door of their house and into the cooling sunset air. A second wind of energy gusted itself through Joel, awakening his body and mind all at once, when he met the figure standing on his porch.

It was Ezra. His hands were casually tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. He wore a long-sleeved black thermal and his short-cropped hair was damp. At first Joel thought the man was sweating–but the smell of soap radiating from Ezra told him otherwise.

“Good evening, Ellie,” he said cheerfully as she stood frozen in place. He looked up. “Joel.”

“Ezra,” said Joel, standing tall and crossing his arms. All emotion had dropped from his face.

“May I have a word with you, Joel? If you would be so kind.” Ezra spoke softly, casually.

Joel released a breath of hot air from his nostrils. He turned to Ellie. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

Ellie’s mouth went tight–her eyebrows high on her forehead.

He sighed and relaxed his posture. “It’s fine. Just go,” he stressed with a nod, standing firm until she huffed and began making her way to the dining hall.

Joel glanced up and down the alley in front of his house before stepping out of the doorway and allowing Ezra inside.

Joel followed on his heels. He flicked the light switch, illuminating two lamps on opposite ends of the living room, and closed the door behind him.

+++++

You hadn’t been gone from the apartment for more than an hour and Ezra had already fallen asleep on the couch where you left him. His book had fallen to the floor. His jaw was slack. His eyes shut tight. And the head of his cock was poking out the top of his boxer briefs. Semen drying on his belly. 

You wanted to be angry, and part of you was, but a larger part of you was amused. Tickled to the core, in fact, as you swiftly ran to the bedroom to scream laughter into a pillow. God, Ezra was such a teenage boy sometimes. Didn’t he know the door wasn’t locked?! Anybody could have walked in and seen him like that! Though you did forget to grab your key when you stomped out that morning, so it was probably for the best.

You couldn’t wait to wake up Ezra and tell him about his little Kodak moment.

You sighed with your face still in the pillow.

Why couldn’t Ezra grow up with you? You were so proud of yourself for putting an end to the hate-fucking, no matter how disappointed Ezra looked when you had the talk. But you hated angry sex. It got you all confused. Anger was supposed to be a bad emotion. It was supposed to be kept quiet and under control. It wasn’t supposed to be used against your partner in mutual contrition. 

Jackson was supposed to change things for the both of you. It was supposed to be a place of peace. You weren’t supposed to be angry anymore anyway. You were supposed to be happy and content for your newfound safety. You were supposed to be grateful you didn’t have to fight off infected or FEDRA or that fucking rat in Memphis who saw your teary-eyed kindness for the manipulation it truly was that one time. 

You were tired of living sloppy and lounging around every day. You were ready to be a woman. A real woman. A real, grown woman.

Maybe that’s why you liked Joel so much. 

Joel Miller was a man.

He was always scowling about something. Stomping around town in his work boots like he was always on the job. He was quiet, too. A whole world of stories and memories inside of him that were itching to come out. And he was structured. Reliable. And he didn’t deal with anybody’s nonsense–not even yours. 

God, it turned you on.

Sometimes dealing with Ezra was like playing tug-of-war: You two would start arguing and lashing out, tugging the rope back and forth until one of you gave in. More recently, though, Ezra stopped tugging as much as he used to. He would hold the rope in his hand with a smile on his face while you were at the other end, yanking and wrenching with your heels dug in the dirt, going wild with fury.

With Joel, when you lashed out at him that morning, it was like you were yanking on the rope again. But instead of tugging back or treating you with condescension, he dropped his end entirely. Let you fall on your ass. Because Joel didn’t wanna play games. He didn’t want to start an angry chain reaction that led to more frustration and upset. 

It set you free. Knocked something inside of you back into place.

You loved it. You loved the way he detached. The way he refused to give in, feed into your emotions or try to fix them. The way he stood there patiently, waiting for you to recover and express what was really bothering you.

It made you want him even more.

You wanted his hands all over your body. His pouty lips all over your skin. You wanted his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. 

You moved your pillow next to you and kissed it, pretending it was Joel.

Your face went hot with shame. 

This was silly. Stupid. 

Childish, even.

Ezra was in the next room. If you wanted to have sex, you should just wake him up and get on with it.

But in that moment, the thought of Ezra disgusted you. You didn’t want to have sex with some gross teenage boy. 

Because you…

You were a woman. And you wanted to have sex with a big, strong man. 

And since Ezra was sleeping pretty heavily, you decided to indulge yourself. 

You got up from your reclined position and brought your pillow between your thighs, imagining Joel beneath you in his green flannel and dark blue denim jeans. An eager scowl on his face. You glided your hands upward on the bed sheets, pretending it was his warm, heavy torso. You cradled the air, pretending to hold his face in your hands as you leaned in to kiss his puckered up lips. Your hips began to move back and forth of their own accord, your body warming up to his imaginary touch. You felt so connected to him in that moment that you knew, you swore up and down to yourself that he had to be thinking about you, too. Right at the exact moment that you were. 

He just had to be across town, working alone in an unfinished house, his body overheating with desire. He just had to be too overcome by his thoughts of you that he was hiding in a corner and jerking himself off–needy with his face on fire.

Nothing else would explain how you felt so magnetically horny–so locked into your fantasy that there was nothing holding you back. You were grinding your clothed clit against the soft pressure of the pillow, aching for something to fill you up inside. You recalled that night on his kitchen table, the feel of his hard cock pressed against you. You felt your cunt clench around nothingness again and again–wishing it could suck something big and thick in it. But not just any something–Joel’s something. Joel’s big something that made your mouth water and you hadn’t even tasted it, yet. 

Which made you all the more thirsty.

You knew you were a sight–hunched over and humping your own pillow. You imagined Joel walking in and finding you, desperate, horny, and alone. And he would stomp over with a desperate look of his own saying, “Darlin’, please. Come ride this cock if you need somethin’.” 

“Fuck yeah, baby,” you whispered aloud. You’d ride that man’s cock day and night if he asked you to. 

You licked the bed sheet, pretending to lick into his mouth. Pretending to taste that whiskey all over again. Your hips continued to move steadily. Fire building slowly inside of you.

You needed this. Needed to feel loved on and wanted all over. Needed to love on yourself in a way that maybe someone else could love you, too. 

You imagined him thrusting up into you, too needy for his own release to make you do all the work. In your mind, his brows were furrowed and his teeth clenched tight as he filled your ears with promises and filth.

“Leave that boy behind, darlin. Let a real man take care o’ you.”

“Is that what you needed, darlin? You needed my big cock inside o’ you?”

“Fuck, that pussy’s good. That pussy’s all mine, ain’t she? Ain’t she?”

You started riding the pillow faster, harder, desperate for enough pressure to take you over the edge. It wouldn’t take much with how lost you were in the fantasy–as if he was really in the room with you. Beneath you. Touching you and talking to you. Giving you everything you could ever want.

You came with a low moan, thighs clenching around your pillow. You slowly blinked and looked around at the bedsheets and the empty wall above your headboard. It was quiet. The noise of town outside was barely audible through the small triangle window above your dresser. There were sounds coming from Ezra in the living room, either.

You sighed and relaxed, feeling satisfied and dreamy-eyed. You rolled onto your back, thinking fondly of Joel, until you fell asleep.

Ezra woke you up a few hours later. He rolled up the wet towel from his shower and whipped you in the ass with it while you lied on the bed.

You woke up with a yelp.

“What?” you slurred. “What time is it?”

“Time for dinner, my divine angel,” he grinned and sat next to you on the bed. He wrapped the towel around his neck. He was already dressed and ready for his day. Or night, rather.

“Stop whippin me in the ass, you asshole,” you groaned with a smile.

“Stop having a succulent, whippable ass,” he said before reaching out and squeezing one cheek in his hand. He bit his bottom lip, eyes going hazy with desire.

You laughed into your pillow. You propped your head up in your hand and stared into his big brown eyes. Ezra was your other half. He understood you in a way that no one else ever did. No one in your own family, that’s for sure. The recent problems you had been having with him were so petty compared to the shit you two had been through over the years. Some of which were problems exclusively created by you. He was so forgiving. Too forgiving, in your opinion. It pained you, deeply, to ever fail him. He asked for so little of you. And you asked for so little of him.

“I wanted you to know that I picked up a little while you were sleeping,” he said, continuing to massage your cheek with his thick fingers. Not looking you in the eye.

“You did?” Your lips went tight. You felt a sparkling sensation in your cheeks and around your eyes. 

“I know how much the little things can get to you sometimes.” He slid his hand down the back of your thigh. “And it is a small request to put my own laundry in the hamper.” He sighed. “I can… be responsible for you.”

You were honestly surprised. You never got through to Ezra. He was his own man. Always had been. You were just along for the ride. But to see him acquiesce to you, finally, after all this time. “Thank you, Ezra,” you mumbled. “I appreciate it.”

“And I appreciate you, baby.” He looked into your eyes with sincerity. “I never want you thinkin otherwise.” His hand found your cheek and his thumb caressed the apple of it. He leaned forward and kissed you on the forehead.

You stared at him with glossy eyed wonder. Your body warming to his tender touch. You wanted to pull him on top of you, get a taste of his freshly scrubbed skin before he went on patrol. But his question interrupted your pleasant train of thought.

“What did you get up to around town today?”

“I–” You gasped and covered your face with your hands. “Oh shit!” You squeezed your whole body tight. “I need to tell you somethin.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

Ezra waited patiently.

“Tracy caught me and Joel kissing in the tool shed this mornin.”

He shrugged. “And?”

Your eyes went wide. “And I’m sure the whole town knows by now.”

He shrugged again. “Okay?”

You wiped your face with your hand and sighed. You spoke slowly. “The whole town is gonna think I’m fuckin Joel behind your back.”

He scoffed and stood up from the bed. “But you haven’t even fucked him, yet,” he sulked.

“That’s… that’s…” you shook your head. “That’s not the issue, Ez. The issue is that everyone is gonna think I’m some kinda slut or that I’m cheatin on you and I’m not. It’s all… consensual,” you said, moving your hand in a circle.

He sighed with frustration and tossed his towel in the hamper. “Well, I guess you gotta hurry up and fuck ‘im, then.”

“...what?”

He put his hands on his hips. “If the whole town is already under the assumption that you two are making the beast with two backs, then there is no real harm in proceeding with the deed.” He shook his head. “I find it to be pretty goddamn necessary at this point.”

“Excuse me?” You sat up.

“Time’s a wastin’!” He said with wide eyes. “Let’s get this show on the road already!”

You threw your hands up, looking around the room in mock disbelief. “What are you talkin about? Why do you want me to fuck him so bad?”

“You have been teasing me for what feels like weeks!” Ezra snarled and pointed at you with his finger. “I need you to fuck him!”

You wanted to laugh. And you did, a little. Your mouth going wide with a smile. “What does any of this have to do with you?”

“All of it, actually, has to do with me, your highness,” he said. “And I am tired of waiting for my turn!”

“Your turn? Ezra! What are you talkin about?”

“I’m talking about this whole little soiree–” he drew a circle with his finger. “--between me and him.”

You groaned. He was not clarifying anything. “Look, if you have issues with Joel, go to him about it. Don’t put me in the middle of it.”

Ezra tucked his chin. “Good.” A mischievous grin grew on his face. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He hummed with satisfaction and slinked his way into the living room. You heard him grab his things and head out the door.

What the hell was going on in Ezra’s head? You flopped back on the bed. “There is something wrong with that man.”

+++++++

A/N: I've had plans for the next chapter since writing chapter 2, I think, LOL! I'm excited.

tag list: @toxicanonymity @vabeachazn @suzdin @for-a-longlongtime @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sheepdogchick3 @rubyfruitjungle @shotgun-shelby @jksprincess10

[enhashoutout]

Plot Holes in High and Low We Need to Discuss

@tiredlittlewriter always gassing me up 🤭🫶🏼 @cheshirecatuniverse @mrskenpachizaraki @books-n-guns

Thank you so much everyone tagged for staying up and talking about the movies with me last night😂❤

Trigger warnings before you start reading, this ramble posts contains spoilers for the movies, cuss words, mentions of character d3aths, mention of SA that happens to a character, and other violence and cr!me associated with the H&L franchise. Please don't read if you do not want to see any of these.

Anywaysssas as you can tell by the title of this post and this screenshot, we are talking about plot holes in the High and Low franchise that we need to talk about because they BUG THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

I would like to start by saying that I do love this franchise, it is my everything. It's not like I have anything bad to say about it, I love it as it is, but some of the stuff within the franchise definitely could've been more thought out. It could've been worse! So I am thankful it wasn't bad but there are some things I wish the writing team did a little differently.

Also, I do attribute a lot of the plot holes to 1) the creators not being entirely sure whether or not they would get a green light on more movies, 2) trying to make sure the movies made money (it's a business unfortunately and not just art), and 3) High and Low is a multi-media franchise so some stuff is probably explained in the mangas, TV shows, games, etc. I will contradict myself and discuss this more in detail as we keep going.

These are in no particular order, just what comes to mind first

S.W.O.R.D Era

1)Noboru and Miho's story

I have beef with whoever on the H&L writing team thought that condensing the 2 seasons of Story of S.W.O.R.D into Road to High & Low was a good idea. "It's both seasons condensed into one movie" THAT'S A FUCKIN LIE. So much of what is in the shows is cut out from the movie.

Tell me why I learned here on Tumblr that Noboru actually spent a while in a coma in the hospital after getting body slammed by a Kuryu car? And then Cobra and Yamato had to do the "IF YOU DIE I'M GONNA BE SO MAD AT YOU" speech you always see in Asian dramas to get Noboru to wake up?!

And tell me why I learned from a fanfic on Wattpad that Miho isn't dead?! She literally comes to visit Noboru while he's in the hospital. Road to High & Low frames the situation to make it look like Noboru goes to beat up Miho's SA perpetrators after he finds he d3ad in her apartment. Then when I brought this up a couple weeks ago the Discord besties told me she broke up with him through a letter😭 A LETTER GIRL?! HE WENT THROUGH ALL THAT FOR YOU! IF I WAS YOU I WOULD'VE KEPT HIM. NOBORU. GIVE ME YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE PLEASE GOOD SIR💍 (I'm completely joking I don't think anyone is entitled to another person's feelings, love, affection, etc. I'm just delusional because I love Noboru and Keita Machida)

Then I learned last night from Discord that Miho needs serious therapy because she was working for Doubt and it was addressed in season 2 of the show. Like HUUUH?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

I do think the storyline between them as a couple and their stories individually definitely could've been explored and explained more. It was probably explained better in the show than RTH&L but I don't have access to the show so idk... which brings me to my first contradiction!

LDH AND EXILE TRIBE PLEASE MAKE YOUR MEDIA MORE ACCESIBLE GOSH. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SUB IT THAT'S FINE AT LEAST MAKE IT EASIER TO FIND SO THAT WE CAN GET FAN SUBS OR I CAN JUST WATCH THE RAW FOOTAGE AND PRETEND I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING. There's so many films like the 2 DTC films, the Mighty Warriors film, the shows, even the manga that a lot of us don't have access to😭 Yes this franchise is multi-media but at least make the media accessible😭

2) Mighty Warriors working with Doubt

In the first and second High & Low movie MW and Doubt work together... AND THAT LITERALLY DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. Last I checked Mighty Warriors don't fuck with tr@ffickers in general so I don't even know why this happened.

And last I checked, MW rescued Sarah from Doubt so why would they work with Doubt when one of their members was literally a Doubt victim? That just doesn't make sense to me. Like yes the MW tend to just take up whatever whack-ass jobs for money they can get considering they fought with literal children (Oya and Rude Boys. I'm like 99.9% sure the Rude Boys members were all 16-19 and that is the age of children. Smoky might've been 20-22 which is not exactly a child but he's still young compared to the MW who were all mercenaries and in the military before they were musical bandits alluding to the fact they are older) but you would think that people who claim to have a club that is a utopia with music that is supposed to impact people positively and save their lives just like music saved the MW members' lives, they would have more moral and standards than to work with Doubt.... but I digress.

3) The alliance with a foreign mafia

This one I can kind of understand but also can't.

I understand that MW take up whatever job they can to make money. It's said directly multiple times in the movies by a MW member that there is no use doing a job for someone without getting paid so they do a lot of stuff just for the money. I also understand Doubt take whatever job pays them but also benefits their tr@fficking business. Hence why they took this job because not only were they getting paid by Lee who runs the Korean mafia but they could kidnap women in the S.W.O.R.D district which worked in their favor.

What I can't understand though is how this alliance even came to be. Hear me out. MW and Doubt will probably do whatever to get money, but where did the trust come from? Like how did they trust that a foreign mafia of all people would uphold their deal and pay them? Was it because Kohaku was made the front-man/face of the plan? Like did they believe that it would be fine because Kohaku was the one "leading" even though it seemed like Lee was pulling a lot of the strings? DOES KOHAKU EVEN HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO BE PAYING EVERYONE?! I SWEAR EVERY TIME WE SEE HIM THAT MAN IS JUST LAYING ON A SOFA IN A JUNKYARD! WDYM DOUBT AND MIGHTY WARRIORS BELIEVED THIS MAN WAS THE ONE WHO WAS GONNA GIVE THEM MONEY?!

4) Who the fuck are Bulge? And what happened to Kuryu?

In End of Sky, we learn that Bulge are interested in the fight between Doubt, Prison Gang, and White Rascals and would sponsor Prison Gang. That's why the scene where we see Jesse fighting with another prisoner, after he kicks him down the guards tell Jesse that Bulge wants to see him to. This is why Jesse and Prison Gang are released early. When Jesse goes back to Funk Jungle he's asking if Mighty want to join but Ice says that they are gonna focus on promoting Funk Jungle, but like he's a liar they show up at the fight anyways lol.

A the end of Final Mission, the movie closes off with a dramatic shot of Mighty Warriors and a typed out message stating "Hello, everyone. This is Bulge. The takeover plan has begun." We never get an explanation of who they are, what they do, etc. I did learn from Ryu's Wiki Fandom page however that "It is presumed that he and Bulge orchestrated the fall of Kuryu Group. In the music video of the MIghty Warriors' new song "Warriors Anthem", it is revealed that he took over Kuryu as the leader after the events of Final Mission, and having Mighty Warriors occupy the remaining 8 heads of Kuryu."

So who exactly are Bulge? How are they powerful enough to be able to take down all of the original Kuryu members who have been seen as indestructible the whole franchise? Why did they allow Ryu to be the new leader?

After Final Mission, the next media pieces that were released were the DTC show and DTC movie, and then we moved into The Worst era with High&Low: The Worst Episode 0 along with the two Worst movies that followed.

I had made the assumption that around the start of the Worst era the creators probably wanted to integrate more of Jr.Exile into the franchise because of their 1) popularity and 2) new stories. The popularity of Exile members like Hokuto and Kazuma would probably bring in more viewership which does good on the numbers and money side because as I said above, unfortunately this is also a business not just art. The H&L creators probably also needed new stories to follow because they can't keep adding to S.W.O.R.D

Vis said that they think the Mighty Warriors were probably dropped because we haven't seen anything from them since the third movie, but Taiga also brought up how the new Mighty Warriors music video was also dropped right around the time the most recent movie Worst X was released. This probably means they are trying to figure out the story within S.W.O.R.D behind the scenes and it's just taking a while to do the world building. Tired also brought up a good point that considering most of the actors in H&L are also Exile members, they have to also continue their jobs as artists so tours, making music, schedules, etc. are probably also clashing with filming and working on High and Low.

Hopefully that is the case and we see more because I have too many questions and no answers.

5) Wtf happened to Rude Boys, Nameless City, and Nikaido?

If you read my fics, you know that when I write about Nameless City after Smoky's passing, I write about how the Rude Boys, Lala, and Eri go and visit Smoky's grave all the time. About a month ago the besties in the Discord made it known to me that Smoky's gravesite and like 3/4 of Nameless City was completely blown up. I was like 😧when I read those messages because it wasn't even like a head-canon thing I genuinely thought that only a small section of Nameless City was blown up so we were fine BUT APPARENTLY WE AREN'T FINE. So what does this mean for the Nameless City residents?

Did they get government housing to stay in while they got tested for the disease from the pollution? Did the residents get released back into Nameless City after the whole casino project exposure? If they were released back into Nameless City, are they all just cramming into that little 1/4 of Nameless City that wasn't blown up?

What happened to Rude Boys afterwards? Are they all back in Nameless City? Or did they move to a different area? Where would they go though? Little Asia? Did Eri get adopted afterwards? Are they finding ways to make money like how they mined the crystal to get money to rebuild Nameless City? Do they even want to return to Nameless City considering the pollution from the toxic waste was causing the disease that killed their leader?

Wtf happened to Nikaido/Cain? Is he finally happy now that he purged his past? Was purging his past and killing his brother worth it? If Kuryu was overthrown and taken over by Mighty Warriors, what does that mean for Nikaido? Is he working for them? Was purging his past worth anything if he didn't even gain anything from it because MW took over Kuryu? Again, so many questions and no answers😭

6) Give us a more clear timeline

This isn't a plot hole, just something I wish the creators would do is give us a clearer timeline. We're never given any clear timeline of how much time has past between each movie or even how much time is between the S.W.O.R.D and Worst era. I'm always trying to calculate the timeline or everyone's ages based off of the only two characters we get ages for and Noboru's school timeline.

The only two characters in the whole franchise that we get ages for are Chiharu and Seki. At the start of the series we know that Chiharu is 20 because when he joins Sannoh, in the scene at the bar Cobra offers him a drink but takes it back and says "wait but aren't you underaged?" to which Chiharu replies that he is 20 (which is the legal adult age in Japan) and Tettsu makes fun of him for still being in high school as an adult (in good fun of course not in a mean way).

When we first are introduced to Oya, the narrator tells us that Seki is the oldest part-timer student there at age 25.

Noboru, Yamato, and Cobra were high schoolers while Mugen was still active. This is deduced by the scene where Yamato drops Noboru off in front of the school for the day he takes his exam, then when he opens up his college acceptance letter with them. I'm assuming Yamato and Cobra dropped out to be apart of Mugen and take care of their parents' shops. Then, we see when Noboru starts college but doesn't make it super far into his bachelors degree after getting sent to jail. We don't get to see how long he was in jail for, just that he was released early because Kuryu paid to get him out early.

I always use these ages and Noboru's vague school timeline to try and figure out the character's ages and shit but they are just estimates because we never get clear timelines from the creators. Like why couldn't they at least tell us how much time passed between the end of Final Mission and the start of The Worst?!😭anyways.... onto the next thing

The Worst Era (mainly X)

Like I said in the screenshot, The Worst isn't my favorite movie out of the franchise but I think it was the best executed in terms of plot out of all the movies. The plot was clear, very concise, and relatively had no plot holes. (I haven't seen The Worst Episode 0 so if there is something that is missing plot wise please let me know)

It was fun to see the cross with Housen and the themes and messages we got from not only the plot but also from each character were all really good too. It was a solid movie, no complaints.

The Worst X however... I have questions. It's not to say it wasn't good, I still liked it and obviously it was good considering I watched it with no context and it got me into the whole H&L universe, but I feel like it fell a bit short. There was more the writers could've done for not only plot development but character development.

1)How did that 3 school alliance actually even start?

From the movies, it seems like Kohei Amagai is well known as "the annoying son of the Amagai group". Like EVERYONE knows him and knows he throws around money to get people to work for him. And like yeah, we see when he is able to take control of the school with the beige uniforms because Senomon, Kamasaka, and Ebara are quite literally beating the shit out of them, but how did Senomon get Kamasaka and Ebara to cooperate?

I refuse to believe that Amagai was able to get Kamasaka who fight with weapons like brass knuckles and metal rods and Ebara who are all literal gym bros to join his stupid ass plan with just money. As dumb as I think boys are I don't think Reiji, Ghandi, Shoji, Raijin, or Fujin are actually dumb enough to join an alliance for money. Even if this alliance did win and take over Oya, what would they have done with each other afterwards? Those dudes have so much pride we all know that there is NO WAY they would all continue working under Amagai. Amagai is also stupid as hell if he thought he could be at the top without someone from Kamasaka or Ebara trying to overthrow him if he had taken down Oya like Kohei.... be fuckin for real bitch.

I need more of an explanation to this like someone from the H&L writing room please sit down with me and answer my questions so I can publish it in an interview for all of us we need answers.

2) What the fuck is the story behind Todoroki and the dudes from Ebara?

The whole time Fujin and Raijin are running around screaming about how they're gonna crush Todoroki and I literally sit there like

👁️👄👁️Why? No matter how many times I watch the movies because we never get an explanation! Idk was this in the show? Someone please tell me.

And like the scene after Todoroki beats up Fujin and Raijin, Shoji goes "you're different now" and I'm always like "Different? DIFFERENT HOW?! DON'T BE SHY SHARE WITH THE CLASS PLEASE"

Todoroki responds with something along the lines of "now I have friends to protect" which is so wholesome I love that, but what is the detailed history of him and the guys from Ebara? We never get that explained to us. I remember reading somewhere that Todoroki trained hard to beat his bullies and because he got so strong that's why he always tried to fight for the leader position because he believed he could beat Murayama. I also saw a clip on Youtube where when Murayama is fighting with Todoroki, he sees his old self in Todoroki who is being reckless which probably adds to Todoroki's character development.

Did the guys from Ebara bully Todoroki? Were they old friends who fell apart? Did they just have a bad run in when Todoroki was being a little shit and fought but now hold a grudge because they are teenagers with a lot of pride and anger issues and it's not that deep? Idk🤷‍♀️The thing that bugs me is the fact that their feud was added a solid amount to the plot and why Ebara joined then dropped the alliance so I don't know why we didn't get at least a vague explanation of who these characters are to each other.

3) Questions and what I want to see next movie

This obviously isn't plot holes but just some questions I have and what I want to see in the next installments of the franchise.

Why were these high schoolers doing THE FUCKIN MOST to see who was stronger?! The first time I watched I was so confused because why was this movie serious but also so unserious?! They did not need to be doing all that.

Why didn't Amagai get in any trouble for anything?! Is it because he has money?! Like how did this man commit literal crime and everyone was like okei. He literally kidnapped Tsukasa and tortured him for like half a day and 1 night...

How did Tsukasa not die?! The was literally beat over the head with a metal pipe, kidnapped, tied up, tortured, and then dropped from a balcony. I digress, he probably has plot armor as Sun calls it because how did he not die or at least end up in the hospital for a long time.

I want to see the movies circle back to the S.W.O.R.D plotline so it would be really cool if Amagai's little plan was part of a larger plan to break down the peace in S.W.O.R.D. It wouldn't be the first time the adults used kids to push their agenda. Kuryu originally wanted to use Murayama to tear down the peace in S.W.O.R.D because he used to look up to the man who was the head of Iemura but because he chose not to do it, they went after Noboru.

Maybe MW are thriving as the new heads of Kuryu so someone on the outside is trying to take over and Amagai's family is apart of that. Or maybe his family is trying to gain favor from Mighty and are working for them. Idk but it would be cool if we circle back to S.W.O.R.D and see the new Oya characters have to integrate into the S.W.O.R.D world also.

I also want to see a segment of how Rude Boys and Oya adjust to their new leaders.

I want to see what happened to the rest of S.W.O.R.D after the third movie. We saw Oya in The Worst era but what happened to everyone else? Which I also know these are probably kind of far fetched considering the Exile Tribe member who played Rocky is retired from the entertainment industry now... but a girl can dream I guess.

You made it to the end! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read this big rant. This wasn't proof read and is kind of everywhere but thank you for reading it anyways! ❤️

[apollo-likes-writing]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

PROLOGUE: He Is

Summary: An alternate universe where Jason Todd never dies to the Joker - but someone else does.

Nothing is truly set in stone. Even meticulously crafted calligraphy on a headstone eventually withers away under the elements until nothing remains legible. It becomes difficult to make out who died, when they did so, and by whom's hand. In times of need, you need to learn who to trust and to what extent. After all, revenge is a dish best served cold. No one ever has any idea who holds the knife at your back.

Word count: 1157

Characters: Jason Todd/Robin, Bruce Wayne/Batman (mentioned), Dick Grayson/Nightwing (mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned).

Tags: Long fic, angst if you squint, mentions of prostitution but not for Jason, weaponry (guns), Robin Jason

A/N: The first of many chapters for a long fic I will be working on! Updates may be a little inconsistent, but I am to be posting chapters at least every month or so. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated! Asks are always open <3

AO3 | Account Masterlist |

Batman is power.  

He is a god. He is a concept. He is both myth and legend. He is an entity of such destructive prowess that death dare not approach him. He is a bedtime story you tell your children before they go to sleep at night. He is the shadow that darkens the doorsteps of those who harm others. He fights for the safety of the people in his city, his domain, and his family – and he is excellent at it.  

Bruce Wayne is wealth.  

He is human. He is mortal. He is flesh and blood and bones. He is wealthy but does not abuse the power that comes with it. He is the newspaper article on the front page. He is the pair of scissors that cuts the ribbon for the new hospital or library or school or food bank. He fights for the welfare of the people in his city, his domain, and his family – and he is excellent at it.  

Nightwing is strength.  

He is the glue that binds the two. He is the compassionate in-between. He has blood and bones, and he bleeds and breaks but there is something, something in his soul that makes him not entirely human. He is not the shadow like his father before him; instead, he is the opposite. He is the light that keeps the darkness at bay. He makes sure hope exists even when the mighty Dark Knight is consumed by his own demons. Even legends need compassion.  

Dick Grayson is justice.  

He fights for equality in a more legal setting. He is handcuffs and police hats and turn around slowly with your hands on your head! He is donuts and sunglasses and yes ma’am, your cat is fine. I have her here. He is one of the good ones. He is family and love, just like his fathers – both biological and adopted – before him. He is a son and a father and a brother and a husband with the capability of love so profound it shocks his own family. He also has a deafening, cacophonous rage within him. One he keeps hidden away and contained in neat glass bottles that has been carefully brewing since he was eight years old. A rage he keeps in check for his own sake. A rage that drove Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson apart.  

Robin is passion.  

He is youth and childhood wonder. He is backflips and cartwheels and beating up bad guys who did bad things. He works his hardest and sometimes that isn’t enough but that’s okay. He is a child. He is red tunics and yellow capes and green trunks that are borderline underwear but he’s working on a new prototype anyway. He has much to learn.  

Jason Todd is perseverance.  

He is youth that grew up too fast. He is lockpicks and crowbars and a petty criminal reformed. He is Jane Austen and George Orwell and J.R.R Tolkien and the other great minds of literature. He is intelligence and irresponsibility and growth and immaturity. He has the capability to do anything he sets his mind to with the backing of his loved ones behind him. He has much to learn.  

Some debate angrily and with shaking fists that he is a child soldier; a victim manipulated by the Big Bad Bat. Others would calmly point out that he is turning eighteen in a week – a fact that Jason is dreading – and that he has no other family except for the aforementioned “Big Bad Bat” and his butler. He’s been in the vigilante game since he was twelve and it’s taking its toll. The constant juggling of vigilante work, maintaining appearances at the school he’s too intelligent for, and trying (and failing) to be a normal, untraumatised boy is creating cracks in the not-so-impenetrable walls he carefully developed out of crumbling concrete in his mind.   

It’s only when he’s out on patrol with his pseudo-father that he has a clear head. It’s easy to forget what haunts you when you’re in the process of making new ghosts. It’s easy to use fists and fancy bat-gadgets to punch through his problems instead of, y’know, talking about why he has problems in the first place. Therapy failed him as most things do. Psychiatrist after psychiatrist listened to his qualms, but they don’t help when he already understands why he’s the way he is. It’s a catch 22: he’s fucked both mentally and emotionally, and he knows what makes him fucked and what to do to help himself, but he can’t do anything to make it better no matter how hard he tries. He wants to be better – he'd do anything to not be the way he is – he just can’t. It makes him want to run away; to take flight with canary wings and retake his mental freedom.  

On patrol, he’s free. It’s like a video game: point and shoot. Except he’s not allowed to use guns, which sort of sucks. The prostitutes and escorts on the streets where he grew up taught him how to use one safely in case of emergencies. A warning came alongside it, of course. “Don’t you ever use a gun to take a life, darlin’ – only to save it.” It was said by one of the oldest and wisest ladies who had been on the streets since she was his age at the time. Little eight-year-old Jason Todd took that to heart. Those words of wisdom have stuck with him ever since and is the reason why Alfred hasn’t told Bruce about the pistol under his mattress yet. It was originally under his pillow, but the ex-spy pointed out the safety concerns of doing so to pre-teen Jason, so they compromised. Bruce would, of course, lose his shit if he found out – so it’s their little secret for now. It’s not like he would need to use it. Wayne Manor was a fortress. Not even the Man of Steel was able to sneak in without the Dark Knight noticing. It’s more for his own peace of mind. Such a thing is hard to come by for someone like him. A gun nearby puts him at ease, which is a bit backwards but hey – whatever helps.  

The point is: Jason Todd is a boy screwed over by the world and he’s on a war path to retake his freedom no matter the cost.  

“A luxurious cage will eventually wipe out the canary’s yearning for freedom.” That’s what Bruce thinks, at least. If he gives Jason a life better than what he had, he wouldn’t want to run. He wouldn’t want to fly away. Bruce needs him just as much as Jason wants to be needed.  

But even then, a luxurious house will only increase people’s tolerance for suffering. The cage will always be strong enough to imprison freedom. Wealth can’t solve everything, Bruce. Wild things always yearn to be wild.  

--

Reblogs appreciated!

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 24 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | 

Act III - Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (18+) | Part 28 (END)

AO3 Link is here, my sweet.

Word Count: 4,380

Act III, Chapter 3 - The Torment

The next morning started off like any other. However, you were surprised when Wyll, Karlach, and Jaheira came back in the late afternoon with a tall, muscular, and bald man with a small rodent on his shoulder. Karlach and Wyll were following the other two with expressions of awe.

I wonder if he’s an associate of Jaheira’s… that would explain why Karlach and Wyll are fawning so hard.

The man saw you and grinned broadly, waving cheerfully at you. Your seal pulsed strongly in return.

Who exactly is this man?

Coming up to the group, you smiled warmly. “Welcome back, everyone. Who’s our new friend?”

“I am Minsc!” Then he held out his hand for the little rodent to hop onto his palm and held him out to you. “And this is Boo, the mighty miniature giant space hamster.”

When the hamster looked at you, your seal pulsed again, sending heat waves through your blood. You looked back up at Minsc, and the power ebbed away.

What. No way. It was the hamster that is the powerful one here?

Boo chittered, and while everyone else was looking at the creature, you noticed that Minsc was listening intently as if he understood every little squeak.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he mumbled. Then he gingerly brought Boo back to his shoulder. “Boo is looking forward to sampling your fine dishes and to hear your singing. Karlach and Wyll have been praising your talents!”

You blinked. “Um, alright, I’ll do my best,” you said, directing your reply to the little hamster. Looking into its eyes, you suspected you saw understanding, and even more, satisfaction.

Welp, that was strange.

You learned from the others that the underground guild in the city and Jaheira had made a deal: she got help finding Minsc, and in exchange, they had chased the Zhentarim out of the city. You breathed a sigh of relief.

So I didn’t need to worry about them after all. Thank the gods. Or rather, thank Jaheira.

Karlach patted your back. “I’m relieved. One crime group is enough for this city, hah!”

You laughed, hiding your nerves. “Yup, good riddance.” And now they’ll never know.

Leading the others to the campfire, you served them some drinks and some snacks and listened to them regaling you with their adventure, which had taken them all across the city, even to the deepest bank vaults. They had even found Mol and a couple other tiefling children in the Guild, running their business, and doing quite well for themselves.

“Oh good, I’d like to go back to the other tiefling children and let them know Mol is safe,” you said.

“I can do it,” Karlach said with a smile. “I’m sure Wyll would want to see them again too.”

Wyll nodded, and you caught his soft look as he watched Karlach.

Oh ho, his love grows.

After their story, you rooted around through the pile of loot for any extra bedrolls or fabric to make a tent for the newcomer. Just as you had managed to find enough rags to weave together, you heard the alarm bells on your belt chime softly.

Turning toward the entrance, the others had arrived looking a bit worn out. As they joined the group at the campfire, Shadowheart relayed what had happened.

“We literally went to hell and back. But now Lae’zel has a way to free Orpheus.”

The githyanki nodded with a slight smirk. Oh, she’s quite pleased.

“And we may have a change of accommodations,” Gale said. “The Elfsong has an upper floor penthouse available if we wish to use it, for a discounted fee.”

“Are there enough beds for everyone?” you asked, sweeping your hand towards everyone, including Shadowheart’s parents, Isobel, and Aylin, who were hanging back, listening in.

“Plenty of beds,” Gale replied.

“And why the discount?” you questioned. Inns don’t give discounts unless…

“There might have been a murder on that floor, and that might be scaring off the guests.”

Everyone looked at Gale.

“Look, just because one person died there doesn’t mean we should stay out in the open for the remainder of our time here.”

After some thought, the group began to mumble agreement.

Wait. Then that means…

“So you won’t be needing me any further,” you quietly said.

All eyes turned to you.

“Well, of course we need you, darling.” Astarion walked up to you and patted your head. “You still have to feed me.” He gestured towards everyone else. “And these fools couldn’t clean worth a damn.”

You glanced at everyone else, who were mostly shrugging sheepishly.

“And who’s going to take care of the giant pile of souvenirs that Karlach and Astarion keep pilfering?” Wyll joked.

“Some of those are from you too!” Karlach shot back, lightly shoving Wyll, who only laughed.

“The point is, you’re part of the team,” Gale said softly. “We need you just as much as anyone else.”

You turned back to Astarion, who nodded and took your hand, holding it gently, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles. Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “Besides, you promised you would stay with me, didn’t you?”

You nodded.

“Good girl,” he murmured before pulling back. Turning to everyone else, he shot them all a triumphant grin. “So, shall we upgrade our accommodations?”

***

By the time you all had finished packing and moving everyone’s things out of the harbor and to the Elfsong, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Yet the tavern was already loud and lively, full of music and drinkers. Gale went to the front desk and paid for the new lodgings, holding up a key triumphantly to everyone before leading the group upstairs.

“Probably best if I keep a low profile. They used to know me all too well in here,” Astarion muttered to you as he helped take the packs up the stairs, attempting to blend in with the others. You watched his back as he went up the stairs, walking closely to the floating disc as it hovered behind Gale. Your eyes wandered down the line of Astarion’s body, down his back, his hips, his—

Gods, what am I doing?

You shook your head and re-focused on the back of his head, but he had already caught you staring, as he looked back at you with a knowing smirk.

“Admire all you like, darling.”

You immediately looked away and huffed.

His sly grin stayed on his face throughout the rest of the unpacking.

***

Since you didn’t need to cast warming cantrips any longer, you could spend your time sorting the loot pile and going out to the market to sell whatever you could, and buying fresh groceries. You were actually excited to see what kind of fresh vegetables and herbs you could get, now that you were in a large city.

“You’re sounding happy,” Shadowheart said as she approached, kneeling down next to you while you polished some of the tarnished jewelry with a rag.

You stopped humming and smiled up at her. “Well, I can finally catch up on some inventory management,” you said, pointing at the rather large pile of knick knacks and herbs. “You lot seem to have sticky fingers.”

“It’s how I grew up,” Karlach said as she joined the two of you, sitting cross legged on the other side of you. “Take everything of value and sort it out later for pocket change.”

You nodded. “That’s fair. I just haven’t had much of a chance to go through it all lately, and it seems like everyday you come back with more.”

Gale suddenly came up and tapped Shadowheart’s shoulder. With one look, her eyebrows furrowed and she got up. 

“We’re going to plan our next trip into the Undercity. We’ll probably need to split up if we want to stop the murders and find where Orin is hiding.”

You nodded and watched as everyone gathered around the table in the main sitting room on the upper level. Remaining in the lower area near the fireplace, you continued to sort through everything, catching bits and pieces of their conversation.

“...have to find where the Bhaalspawn…”

“...Orin’s base might be…”

You finished sorting what you could, and pulled together all the random coins you had found. There was a significant amount, so you didn’t feel bad about ordering room service tonight.

“I’m going downstairs to order us a meal to be brought up, are there any requests?”

***

As you came downstairs with a long piece of paper full of meal requests, you ran into a familiar face.

“Lakrissa!” you said with a bright smile.

She called your name excitedly and gave you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“We got a room upstairs, at a discounted rate.”

“Oh, the murder room. Well, I suppose that wouldn’t bother your group much, would it?”

You laughed. “Nope, not after what they’ve seen. Oh, I need to put their supper order in.”

Lakrissa smiled and took your order for you, telling you to wait by the stairs for her while she gave it to the kitchen. When she returned, she gave you a wide grin.

“Follow me,” she said quietly as she nodded toward the back staircase. 

She snuck you up to the rooftop, where you heard a soft lute and a familiar voice.

You smiled, afraid to stop Alfira’s singing. She was swaying softly to her song, her back to you and Lakrissa, the gibbous moon shining brightly above her head. The two of you enjoyed her song until the end, applauding her just as she turned around.

The bard smiled, pleasantly surprised to see you. You hugged, and the three of you caught up on each other’s lives since the Last Light Inn.

“Would you join me for a song?” Alfira asked. “If you have time, that is.”

You turned to Lakrissa. She nodded. “You’ll have time. With the amount of orders you put in, you could sing out here for a half hour and it wouldn’t be done.”

The two of you figured out a song you both knew, and while she played and sang harmony, you took the lead, letting your voice carry on the rooftop, and letting the tingling feeling on your spine travel through your body, through your lungs, through your throat. You felt almost as if you could layer your voice if you pushed your power through yourself hard enough.

On the last lyric, you let your vibrato go longer and harder than you ever had, leaving just enough breath to end the song on a delicate sigh.

A raucous applause startled you, and you turned to see all of your companions standing behind Lakrissa, who was wearing a sly grin.

“You cheeky woman!” Alfira said to her as Lakrissa came up and placed her hand on the small of her back.

You were distracted from their cute banter by everyone else’s compliments. You shyly bowed.

“Boo says that was a most wonderful performance, rivaling the great opera singers from Waterdeep!”

You flinched involuntarily at the mention of Waterdeep, but you acted as if you didn’t. “You’re too kind,” you said with a smile. 

Lakrissa tapped your shoulder. “I can go check if your food is ready, but would you all want to eat up here? It’s a beautiful moonlit night!”

You turned to everyone else, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, catching up with Alfira and admiring the view.

“That sounds lovely.”

As she went downstairs, you spotted some tables and chairs scattered around the rooftop and had an idea. You took a deep breath and began to hum, walking to the furniture and tapping them lightly. As if they suddenly gained sentience, they hopped and began to follow you, arranging themselves into a nice group formation.

Everyone had gone silent, watching you work. You paid them no mind, singing a song about faerie lights, touching the leaves and vines around the area, making them glow orange and pink and purple. Lost in the sensation of the magic and the music flowing through your body, you spun around and swayed your arms, letting the lights glow brighter as your power pulsed against your skin.

Suddenly Astarion was standing next to you, his hand on the small of your back, pressing on your seal. He kissed your cheek and pulled you close, interrupting your song.

“I couldn’t help myself darling,” he said a bit too loudly as he dragged you away from everyone else. Karlach tried to peek, but Shadowheart shooed her and the other onlookers back to the tables to wait for their food.

Away from the crowd, Astarion whispered into your ear. “Your seal was glowing brightly through your clothes.” His hand pressed harder against your back. “Be careful.”

You looked up at him, surprised at his look of concern. “Oh. Thank you,” you murmured. It didn’t feel like burning this time, though. It felt… powerful. 

He guided you back to the tables just in time for Lakrissa and another worker to bring the trays of food for everyone. Using your party as an excuse, she stayed behind and ate with you, along with Alfira, who entertained you all with music through the rest of dinner.

It was a wonderful evening, and you treasured it.

***

The next morning, the others left, but came back within an hour to talk to Dame Aylin. You overheard something about a tower and a wizard who had put a price on her head, and she immediately charged out the doors. Isobel followed the group out to follow her.

You turned to Shadowheart’s parents. “Erm, well, I was about to go out and get groceries. I should be back soon.”

They nodded and told you that they would let the others know if they came back before you did.

Out in the city, you felt relatively safe, anonymous in the large crowds. You walked over to a jeweler and bartered away some of the found gems and trinkets for a great price, adding to your coin pouch. Heading down to the marketplace, you managed to get an excellent cut of venison from the butcher and some fresh herbs and vegetables. Holding the bag in your arms, you headed back to the Elfsong.

Halfway there, your seal pulsed. You immediately looked around.

A man, with a patch over his eye and a large sword at his side, scratched his arm, his sleeve lifting up to reveal a tattoo of a legless dragon in flight. It was a tattoo you recognized with ease.

A Zhent!

You quickly began to walk away, turning a corner beyond the Elfsong, unwilling to make the mistake of leading someone straight to your home base. Instead, you walked through the graveyard, then past the tombmaker’s shop. Just as you were rounding the corner to make a loop back home, you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

Turning around, you were met with Gale, smiling and waving his hand to you.

“Can you follow me for a moment? I have something to show you,” he said, gesturing for you to follow.

Your seal pulsed with a stinging heat.

“Um, let me put these groceries away first.”

“We haven’t the time,” he insisted, coming closer to you.

Gale would have offered to carry my groceries for me by now. This isn’t him! 

Without another word, you turned to run.

The doppelganger grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled hard, choking you. Dropping your bag of groceries, you pulled at your collar, trying to get some air, but they were strong. One arm wrapped around your mouth.

“You’ve got wits, but no power. Pity,” a woman’s voice hissed in your ear.

You felt a sharp pain to your temple, and then you felt nothing at all as everything went black.

***

Astarion and the others returned to their room in the Elfsong, ready for a long rest. Upon entering the room, however, he smelled something distinctly… vile.

“Welcome back,” said the creature posing as his hearth witch. Though she looked like her, she definitely didn’t sound like her. The soothing warm tone of her voice could not be replicated by any other.

“You’re not her.” Astarion glared at the shapeshifter, disgusted that she would take the form of his beloved.

Orin pouted. “How could you tell so quickly?”

“I could smell your stench a mile away.”

Everyone looked on in horror as a crazed, maniacal grin grew on their hearth witch’s face. And when she twisted back to her usual form, everyone felt a fear and anger that they could not swallow down.

“If you want your precious friend, then kill Gortash for me and bring me his netherstone.” She disappeared in a burst of pink petals, her insane laughter bleeding away.

Astarion could barely contain his rage. “We don’t have time, we have to find her now,” he snarled.

The others agreed. 

“Don’t worry Astarion, we’ll find her,” Wyll said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Orin won’t get away with this.”

He nodded as he tried to keep a level head. But it was so, so hard.

If Orin touches her… she’ll feel her madness. She’ll feel everything.

***

You woke up to a world of pain, your entire body feeling as if it was on fire. You shifted and gasped in agony.

Then your memories of the last 24 hours returned, and you nearly vomited. You had so, so many cuts across your body. Your clothes had been sliced to shreds, and your skin along with it.

The crazed cackle of your captor drew your attention. Orin licked her knife with glee. “Your blood is the sweetest,” she murmured. 

And then she wrapped her hand around your neck. You let out a hoarse cry of agony as her madness seeped into you. No amount of mental guarding could keep out the intensity of her insanity.

c̵̝̽u̵̩͌t̵͇͛ ̷̗̕c̵͉͌ṵ̵͝t̴̝̓ ̵̫͋m̸͙̚a̶̧̾i̴͈͋m̴̱̀ ̷̳̔m̸͇͛a̸̢͝i̸̗͗m̴͎͝ ̴̡��m̷͍̈́ṵ̶͗r̵̝̾d̷̜̄e̸̤͋r̵̹͝ ̷̮̓m̸̳̊ủ̵͚r̸̖͑d̷͈̿e̴̞̐r̸̻͋k̶̜̋i̷̪͊l̶̝̔l̸͚̀k̴̫̃i̶͈̓l̴͇̀ĺ̶͙K̴͉̍Ȋ̶͜L̸͈͛L̵̫͌ ̴̢̀K̸̯̈I̸͍̿L̸̘̍Ľ̶̪ ̶̘̈K̴͇͘I̴̬͐L̶͚̀L̶̤̓—̸̟̀ ̵͉̏

You squeezed your eyes shut to drown out the voices in your head.

“Who knew you would be so sensitive to just my mere touch! Such a delight to torture.”

You could barely hear her words beyond the pounding of blood in your ears. Is this what she constantly felt? Wave after wave of darkness, followed by an alternating current of rage, a frenzied, frenetic need to hurt, to kill. 

It was so dissonant from your usual emotions that you were having a physical reaction. Your blood pumped harder, spilling more from your wounds. You were weakening, your limbs feeling heavier with each passing moment.

“Let go of me!” you cried, your hands wet with your blood as you tugged weakly at Orin's arm. 

She only laughed. “Why should I? Your agony is the sweetest candy on my tongue.” Grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully, she brought the inside of your arm to her mouth. While she stared at you with her crazed glare, she licked your blood, savoring it, smearing it all over her lips. 

“No!” You shrieked, trying to jerk your arm away. It was a useless endeavor; she was far stronger than you could ever be. “That blood is not for you!” 

You tugged harder, the blood making your skin slippery. Her grip tightened until you felt your bones begin to yield, the pain making you keen. 

“You make the most lovely sounds when in pain,” she murmured, letting go of your wrist and your throat. Placing the tip of her knife at your collarbone, she grinned maniacally. The sharp tip pierced your skin, the slow, burning sting making you whimper in pain. 

“Let me hear you sing in agony once more—“

“My lady!” 

Orin immediately grabbed the servant by the throat. “How. Dare. You. Interrupt me!” 

“There…. are… intruders…” the servant gurgled.

You looked up, grateful for any distraction that kept Orin’s knife away from your collarbone. In the distance, you could see your companions as they charged down the stairs. A sense of relief flooded you. 

Your friends. They were here. Thank the gods. 

All of the stress and the injuries suddenly overwhelmed you, and your vision blurred. Did Orin just transform into a beastly creature? The party threw themselves into the fray, fighting off the other cultists while Karlach and Lae'zel focused on Orin. 

The last thing you saw was Astarion rushing past the beast towards you, calling out your name. 

***

It had been a hell of a battle, and Astarion barely remembered it. Once he had secured his beloved in a safe corner, he had lashed out, stabbing Orin until she screamed in agony. Then he sprinted back, picked up his little hearth witch in his arms and brought her to Shadowheart, who immediately healed her wounds. Her clothes were shredded to tatters, and even after her wounds had closed, she was still out cold.

“She may be mentally overwhelmed,” Shadowheart said.

He only nodded before setting off at a hurried pace to get back to the Elfsong, cradling her closely.

After they got out of the Undercity, she finally spoke to him again. “I'm surprised by how far you've come, Astarion. I didn't think you'd ever care so deeply about anyone.”

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied carefully. “But she managed to weasel her way in.”

“It's funny how the little things do so much. A warm meal, a soft touch, a gentle smile. She's brought us all out of our shells, made us feel safe.”

“Yes…” He looked down at his love. “She feels like home.”

Shadowheart didn’t miss the softness in his eyes as he spoke, gazing at his witch.

***

“Seems strange, doesn't it?” Shadowheart mused while she sat with the other around the communal table, snacking on some cheese. 

“Well, they're lovers now, right? I wouldn't let anyone touch you either.”

Shadowheart frowned, even though she felt a bit tickled by Gale's protective comment. “That's fair. But he barely let me finish healing her before snatching her away.”

Gale shrugged. “Some people go a little crazy when they fall in love. I certainly don't blame him for acting this way. She's been kidnapped twice now, right under our noses.”

Nodding, Shadowheart grew quiet for a moment. “What do you think he meant when he said her skin was sensitive?”

Karlach suddenly lifted her head. “I asked her about why she wore gloves all the time and she said it was a secret. Maybe she just has super sensitive skin!” 

The others just accepted that conclusion and moved on to other topics, but Shadowheart kept chewing on the thought.

What if…?

***

You regained consciousness as Astarion was lifting you in his arms. You felt his worry for you through your bare skin before you realized that he had taken his shirt off, and you were fully naked.

“What’s going on?” you mumbled.

“We rescued you,” he answered, his voice soft. “And now I’m giving you a bath. You’re covered in blood.”

“Oh.”

Astarion slowly lowered you into the tub, the water immediately turning red as the dried blood on your skin was washed away. The warmth was soothing against your freshly healed body and you started to relax. But the moment Astarion let go of you, the pain from before came rolling back. When Orin had held you down, her madness had borne down on you, unrelenting, and it returned now in ripples of mania.

You struggled to stay alert, but you could feel your mind slowly dissociating. Your consciousness faded as you battled the memories. 

b̸̫̅͆ͅl̴̛̼̳̎ǒ̶̭́͜o̵̢̔ḋ̵̘̈́ ̷̢̬͌͘b̸̮͖̔l̸̙̬͘o̷͕̩̿̊o̸̬̐d̶̛͉ ̷̙̰̔c̷̢̩̈́ų̵̰͝t̶̖̲͆̿ ̷̭̬͝c̴̬̙̃u̴̱͋́t̶͆̆ͅ

“Darling?” 

s̷̖̍l̵͕͋i̵̗͒̾c̴̻̫̔̀ē̶̝ ̴͉͝͝s̵̝̋̅l̸̠̏́i̴̳̚c̷͚̎̒e̸̜̜̒ ̵̹͂̎ͅh̵̤̋̐ư̶̥͌r̵̖͚̆t̶̡̬̋ ̸̤͓̌h̵̗͑̓ų̵̙̾͊r̸͖̍̀t̶̼̎͘ ̸̙̐̍m̷͈͝a̷̘͎͗̊i̵̩̦̊̌m̷̳̗̿̈ ̵̞̂m̶͚͍͒͠a̵̠͚̚i̴̭͋̏m̶̹͖͊̓

Suddenly your mind went blank as Astarion pulled you out of the tub and into his embrace. You wanted to chide him about getting his pants dirty with the bloody water, that you were naked, that this was wholly inappropriate… 

But when you felt the overwhelming feeling of love and protection around you, it silenced everything else. The echoes of Orin's insanity, the screams of your own mental state, everything. 

All you felt was Astarion's love for you, and it brought you back to the present. 

And you cried. 

“I've got you, my sweet. I've got you,” he murmured as you shook uncontrollably.

“I hate this!” you cried. “I…I'm weak. I'm helpless. I didn't… I didn't want to be a burden!”

Astarion hushed you gently, nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. “What's that irritating thing that Gale always says about burdens?”

It took you a moment to remember. “A burden shared is a burden halved?” 

“Yes. That.” He guided your chin up to look at him. “We both have our share of burdens. I accept yours, just as you accepted mine.”

“So you can say nice things,” you teased through your tears. “You won't abandon me?” you asked quietly. 

“You're the heart I thought I had lost,” he quietly confessed. “So don't even think for a moment that I'd ever let you go.” He held you tighter. “You're mine, burdens and all.”

He coaxed you back into the tub, and kept at least one hand on your skin as he helped you get clean. While you knew you were healed, you sometimes saw the cuts that Orin had inflicted as an afterimage on your skin. You had to shake your head and force the vision away from your mind.

While you were fighting the demons in your head, Astarion bathed you, dried you off, and took you to bed, wrapping you up in his arms, against his bare chest. 

“Will you be alright?” he asked softly, his gaze full of concern.

You took a deep breath. Would you? Orin did a hell of a number on you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and you had seen some strange things in Waterdeep. Hells, you had faced a vampire lord and survived.

And yet…

“I’ll be alright,” you finally said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really will,” you insisted. “It may take some time, but you’ll be here to help, won’t you?”

His eyes softened. “Of course, darling.”

It wasn’t until you were mostly asleep that you realized that you were still naked, skin against skin with Astarion.

And yet, it was the most comfortable you had ever been with him, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

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

Act III, Chapter 3 End notes: Sorry for the lateness, had to work double digit hours every day this week at work, but finally got some time to edit and post this chapter! I’m really leaning into that hurt/comfort trope here and I regret nothing. But I think this will be about as much as I can write in terms of injuries, because honestly, our dear little witch needs to catch a break.

Also a bit of behind the scenes here: I absolutely killed that Zhentarim plotline, because it wasn’t working for me and it does get conveniently taken care of by Jaheira in the game. And I was thinking that HW was being a bit paranoid; she hasn’t seen a Zhent in years since the last time she was in the Gate. Also, the masked lord has basically forgotten about her, but she doesn’t know that.

Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

[musewrangler]

20 Questions for Writers

Thank you for the tag @ladysongmaster! I can't recall if I've done this one before!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 137

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 3,126,209

3. What fandoms do you write for? Star Wars ninety percent of the time. A smattering of Hornblower, one for Narnia, one in Silverado, getting into some original work as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Mirjahaal

Bajur

He Who Sheds His Blood With Me

Forging Ahead

I Felt You In My Bones

5. Do you respond to comments?

As much as possible. Made a resolution to do so more quickly xD

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hm. I tend to like happier endings and put all the angst in the middle. xD So...ponders. I think it's a short one from one of my Star Wars collections called 'And a Child Shall Lead Them'.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I have a lot of those I'm glad to say. But the most joy...quite likely the one for Brothers In Arms for...reasons. Don't want to spoil it. Though When the Mighty Don't Fall is a close second place.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

One time. But, deleted, blocked, done. :D

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. I'm sure folks can do it well---just not my cup of tea.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

An attempt was made once by one of those weird 'companies' through Amazon, but they took care of it fast.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A wonderful person has translated a TON of them into Russian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes I have! Doing one now as a matter of fact.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

This could be several categories. xD In books? Toss up between Harriet Vane/Peter Wimsey and Faramir/Eowyn.

Movies? Han/Leia [shocking] and Etienne Navarre/Isabeau d'Anjou from Ladyhawke.

And of course---epic platonic friendship--Piett and Veers

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a Hornblower collection that I have not touched in too long, but I ALSO finish stories, so it will happen. At some point.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Likely character building, dialogue and action.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description, pacing and editing. However, I write largely for fun-- being more lenient about editing for myself at the moment.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I have done it for Hornblower for realism but I don't often do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek actually. xD In high school. I don't think I even knew to call it fan fic then. I just loved Chekov from the original series. I grew up with the movies in the Eighties you see. Dates me I know. xD

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is the all time hardest question about my writing. I like various of my fics for very different reasons. So I'm sorry, but I'll have to say more than one.

Brothers In Arms because exploring Max and Firmus as friends from the Academy was a DELIGHT. Then throwing in Myra and Sola...yeah I had a lovely time with all the characters and action in that fic.

In terms of really getting a setting and having a blast with historical fiction---War in the Shadows. I am a history NERD and I think I did pretty well with accurate time period world building while using Star Wars characters. ;D

And Mirjahaal hit a lot of delightful notes for me to play with so I have to mention it.

Gently tagging @afaroffsong @kraytwriter @freenarnian @scarvenartist @rainintheevening @klarionthewizard @tolkienreader1996 @mathmusic8 @saxifrage-wreath @galaxacious @hollers-and-holmes

[ghostxrose]

𝑶𝒇 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆𝒏 | 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 𝒙 𝑶𝑪

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |

Tags/Warnings ~ Fem!OC, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, potentially triggering content, universe-typical violence, Enji Todoroki (yes, that is a warning, he's trash), character death, suicidal ideation, (more tags to be added as story develops <3)

Note ~ Here's the second chapter, Lovelies! Hope yall enjoy the read, and let me know if there are any tags I should add! <3

Enji Todoroki has always been a focused and serious person, someone who always did what needed to be done. He may have hated being bossed around and being at the bottom of the food chain, but his drive for power and need to be at the top are what got him where he is today. The day he became a Marshal was the day he truly began to look down on those he thought were far beneath him.

It hadn’t been very long after the day he ranked Marshal when the first Kaiju had pulled itself from the depths of the ocean and showed no mercy to the people of the cities it destroyed.

In all of his years, he hadn’t given the preposterous idea of aliens a single thought. There wasn’t any evidence to back up the claims of various wack-jobs around the world. Astronomers had proven time and time again that space was just cold and empty. Had Enji given even half a thought on the topic of aliens he certainly wouldn’t have ever suspected that they would emerge from the ocean.

It didn’t take very many attacks on major coastal cities around the world for nations to band together and try to come up with a solution to fight back. With the production of Jaegers came the preparation of pilots. Most of those who were volun-told to be pilots went through their training terrified. Enji, though, remained calm and level-headed through it all.

The day he stepped into a Jaeger and completed his first Drift seamlessly, Enji felt a new kind of power wash over him. He felt truly invincible like he could take anything on headfirst. And with this new feeling of power came a cockiness that he had trouble hiding behind a mask of stoicism.

Enji and his co-pilot, Toshinori Yagi, had made a powerful team. They hadn’t gotten along very well outside of the drift, mostly on Enji’s part, but they kicked Kaiju ass, nevertheless. They held the record for most Kaiju kills in Japan for two years. They were unstoppable.. until Okinawa.

It was 2200 and the two had just gotten back to their bunk when the alert sounded. Despite being as tired as they were, the two had suited up and rushed to their Jaeger, Mighty Endeavor. They had loaded up, Drifted, and made sure that everything was calibrated. Then they were flown off to Okinawa.

It was supposed to be an easy take-down and another kill for Mighty Endeavor and its pilots. The Kaiju, code-named Speartail, was a fairly small Category 3. Enji had worn a cocky smile the whole flight to Okinawa as adrenaline had coursed through his veins. Being in the red-haired man’s brain, Toshinori had just rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile.

The kill was supposed to be easy. They were supposed to have won.

Instead, what had happened was they were dropped into the water just off of the coastline and were immediately met by Speartail. The Kaiju, in all of its seemingly mindless brutality, relentlessly attacked the Jaeger. It moved quicker than anticipated, gliding through the water more smoothly than Mighty Endeavor. Enji and Toshinori had lost sight of the damn creature at one point, the both of them having to rely on Loccent to tell them where to look.

Unfortunately, in the few seconds that Enji had spent screaming at Loccent, Speartail had found its opportunity to launch itself at the Jaeger. Mighty Endeavor was hit hard, and Enji and Toshinori struggled to regain balance. Neither of them had seen the long tail of the creature coming toward the face of their Jaeger until the sharp, pointed end of it was speared through Toshinori’s chest.

A cross between a roar and a scream had been torn from Enji’s throat when he was struck with the phantom pain. The tail retreated as quickly as it came, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of Toshinori’s body. Blazing red and molten hot rage filled Enji and fueled him to not only pilot on his own but also kill the Kaiju. All the while, Toshinori’s lifeless body swung around limply from the piloting harness that it was stuck to.

Getting back to the Shatterdome that day had not been the success-filled occasion that it should have been. Instead, Enji was numb and his body had felt cold. It wasn’t until he saw the tear-soaked faces of Inko and Izuku that the reality of what had happened hit him.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

Enji became cold and closed off, even more stoic, after that day. He hadn’t even congratulated or shown an ounce of pride when Toya became a full-fledged Ranger and pilot. On the day of Toya’s Drift-compatibility test, Enji silently brought his son to a private training room and tested to see if they were Drift-compatible.

Once Enji had confirmed that he and his son were, in fact, Drift-compatible, he asked to be sent a new, more up-to-date, Jaeger. Bravo Inferno had arrived quickly equipped with the latest technologies, smoother and quicker movement capabilities, and better weapons than what Mighty Endeavor had. The men’s first drift and test run of the new Jaeger went without a single hitch.

Enji and Toya had been Chiba’s most effective team of co-pilots, holding the record for most kills out of all of the teams stationed at the Shatterdome. While he took the job seriously in front of his father, Toya’s ability to be humble only ever went that far. Outside of his father’s intimidating presence, Toya was overly confident and cocky as hell. The only people who could stand him, the only people he wasn’t cocky around, were his mother and siblings.

He would genuinely smile and laugh when teasing and playing with his brothers and sisters. He would cry in his mother’s arms whenever he came back from an especially rough deployment. Behind the closed door of their family bunker, he could just be himself instead of the Toya that had to deflect the judgment and harsh words of his peers by being insufferably cocky and easy-going. He laughed boisterously at the comments flung at him even though all he wanted to scream was that he didn’t even ask to be the Marshal’s, his father’s, co-pilot. He never did understand why people couldn’t see that Enji always treated Toya like he was just another Ranger to boss around like the rest of them. That is the number one thing that Enji would come to regret every day after the day that Toya died.

The alert for the deployment that day had woken both Enji and Toya from their slumber. The AI’s voice told them that Bravo Inferno was being deployed to take down a Kaiju entering the shallows a few miles down the coastline from the Shatterdome. The Kaiju, code-named Kurassha, was labeled a Category 3, a level of Kaiju that they had fought and won against many times by that point.

They suited up, locked themselves into their harnesses, dropped and Drifted, then they were off. The whole flight to the Kaiju, while short, was full of Enji trying to ignore the fact that he could see his old self in his feral-eyed and manically grinning son. Instead of joining in on Toya’s hype, Enji simply told his son to “take the situation seriously” and to “stay focused” in his ever-commanding, anger-bitten, militant tone. He wasn’t in any mood to deal with Toya’s energy, not to mention, Enji was still pissed that Toya had been late getting to the Bay to suit up.

Their Jaeger was dropped into the water within the general vicinity of where Loccent had tracked the Kaiju. It hadn’t taken much looking around before Kurassha had decided to show itself. The massive creature had simply chosen to slowly rise out of the water about 40 feet away from where Bravo Inferno stood ready for battle.

Enji hadn’t been as phased by the appearance of the Kaiju as Toya had, his son’s fear flooding his mind and covering his own. Even if Enji hadn’t been sharing a brain space with his son, one could tell from the look on Toya’s face that he was terrified. Enji had swallowed his own fear, gritted his teeth, and demanded that Toya get it together and get ready to fight.

The decision to rush Kurassha was made at the same time the huge beast began rushing them. The brutal collision of beast and metal seemed to have shaken the earth beneath their feet, waves ripping through the water around them. Bravo Inferno’s metal fists landed punch after punch to the Kaiju, the impacts not seeming to do much to stop its assault on the Jaeger.

One of the Kaiju’s hands, which had been far larger than it should have been in proportion to its body, had come up and immediately grabbed Bravo Inferno’s right arm. Neither Toya nor Enji could keep their roars of pain in as the monster in front of them started crushing Bravo Inferno’s arm in its grip. It wasn’t until minutes of pain later that the Kaiju just ripped the newly crushed arm off of the Jaeger.

Panting and gritting his teeth, Enji had ignored Toya’s pleas to tell Loccent to send back up. He shouted at Toya to shut up and focus back on fighting, wholly believing that they could still finish and win the fight. He pressed a series of buttons and activated one of Bravo Inferno’s weapons as he attempted to block Toya’s thoughts from his mind.

Before Bravo Inferno’s remaining arm could fully transform into the weapon Enji had selected, the Jaeger was being picked up. Kurassha’s massive hands fully wrapped around Bravo Inferno’s middle, crushing the metal and digging its claws into the Jaeger’s spine. Shouts of pain erupted from both Enji and Toya, once more, their suits shocking them with violent pulses of electricity.

Suddenly, they were spinning, the monster that had a hold of them gearing up to launch them. After a couple of spins, Kurassha let go sending Bravo Inferno flying toward the jagged rocks of the shoreline. The loud ear-piercing sound of stone puncturing metal echoed throughout the surrounding area along with the roar tearing from the Kaiju as it bounded after the Jaeger.

Both men were dazed, Toya shaking with fear, as they tried to get back up from their harsh landing, but the machine that they were linked to seemed stuck. Enji was silent, trying to figure out their next move, as Toya shouted into the Comms for Loccent to send out backup. Loccent had been in the middle of informing them that backup was on the way when the Kaiju pounced on them. The action caused the sharp rock that was already embedded in the back of Bravo Inferno to pierce through further, the sharp tip protruding from the Jaeger’s chest.

Kurassha made quick work of crushing and ripping off the Jaeger’s left arm. As the Kaiju continued with its brutal and aggressive assault, Enji did something he had never done before; he froze. To him, everything was happening in slow motion. Sounds were muffled, his body jostled in the harness as the Kaiju tore the Jaeger apart from the outside of the Conn-Pod. He hadn’t even registered Toya screaming at him until he saw the cracking of the glass panel in front of him.

It was then that sound came crashing into his eardrums and he was forced back into reality. Multiple alarms were blaring, Loccent was cutting in and out, metal groaning and crumpling, and the gut-wrenching sound of Toya crying. A frantic look around the Conn-Pod told Enji that the monster outside had a massive hand wrapped around the head of Bravo Inferno and was slowly crushing it.

Even though he knew the risk, Enji manually released himself from his harness and immediately went to prepare the escape pods. Somehow, it was still possible for them to eject and that was the one and only time that Enji thanked whatever God may be out there. He turned toward Toya, shouting for him to get out of the harness and get to a pod, and saw his son struggling.

Toya’s manual release wasn’t working no matter what he did.

Enji felt his stomach sink and he rushed over to try to help his son, but when neither of them could get the harness to release and the Conn-Pod was closing in more and more by the second, Toya stopped his movements. Enji was filled with panic and exasperation and was about to yell at Toya to keep trying but stopped when he met his son’s eyes. Toya’s face, while calm, was solemn and his eyes were filled with deep sadness and defeat. Enji was pulled into a hug that he didn’t reciprocate because his mind was still in shock over the realization he just made.

“You better take care of them, Dad. They’re your family, not soldiers. I love you, Old Man.”

Those were Toya’s final words before shoving Enji away from him and shouting for him to get into the escape pod and leave. Enji’s entire being was numb in a way that he had never felt before, not even when Toshinori was killed. As if on autopilot, he had climbed into an escape pod, pressed everything that he needed to then was ejected from the head of Bravo Inferno seconds before it was finally crushed with his son still inside.

He flew through the air waiting for the escape pod to crash land somewhere when a new kind of pain shot through his numbed body. It wasn’t like the phantom pain one could feel through a Drift and it was far worse than any physical pain he had ever felt. It was the kind of pain you only feel when you lose someone you love.

That was the day Enji Todoroki started regretting treating his son and the rest of his children like they were soldiers.

That was the day Enji Todoroki started feeling disappointed in who he was as a person.

That was the only day that Enji Todoroki had ever wished that he had never chosen to make being in the military a lifetime career.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

“Marshal Todoroki.” Aizawa’s firm voice knocks reality back into Enji’s mind and he blinks a few times at the tablet in front of him before looking up to his second-in-command with a question brow raised.

“You were.. overthinking the pairings, again.” Aizawa subtly excuses Enji’s wandering mind though his tone is tired and he lets out a sigh.

“Right.. My apologies, Shota. Where were we?” Enji asks, falling back into his serious and stoic mask.

“We were just re-evaluating the co-pilot pairings for the six that tested first earlier today. I just want to be sure that you are certain about who we’ve selected to be co-pilots,” Aizawa says, casting an unsure glance between the tablet in his hands and Enji.

“You have doubts about the pairings?” Enji questions with a tick of annoyance on his face.

“Only about one of them. Rangers Hado and Kendo will work well together, I believe. Rangers Kirishima and Tetsutetsu are practically twins, so they’ll Drift just fine. It’s Rangers Bakugo and To-” Aizawa begins to explain, ready to give his reasoning as to why the last pair wouldn’t mesh well when he’s cut off.

“They’ll work just fine together, Shota. If not at first, then they’ll learn to make it work.” Enji states, his tone definitive, and Aizawa lets out another sigh as he rubs his forehead.

“Okay then.. That’s all of the pairings, then. What time do you want to commence first Drift trials?” Aizawa asks tiredly.

“Set the mass alarms for 0500. We’ll let the Rangers eat breakfast before announcing their co-pilots and Jaeger assignments. We’ll have them all report to Bay 3, I’ve already had the groups’ Jaegers moved there.” Enji says as he scrolls through the pairings on his tablet one last time before closing tabs and signing out of it.

“Alright Enji, alarms are set,” Aizawa announces before closing the tabs on his own tablet and signing out of it.

“See you at 0530. Goodnight.” Aizawa says while standing, bowing slightly before leaving Enji’s office.

Enji mumbles out a “goodnight” as the door closes behind Aizawa, then releases a long sigh as he leans back in his chair. He checks the time on his watch, seeing that it’s already a bit late. He wonders if Rei has eaten already or if she waited for him. She doesn’t wait up for him as much anymore, usually choosing to grab him something from the Mess Hall and keeping it in their family bunker. But she does sit and talk with him while he eats and that’s more than he could ask for after everything they’ve been through over the years.

Especially when she’s the only one in their family that doesn’t blame him for Toya’s death.

Note ~ Let me know how you're feelin' about the story so far! Also, I know that I said that Enji is trash, and HE IS, but every other chapter/part or so will be written from his focus. I am still having a bit of trouble grasping onto Third POV stories as I mostly write in First or Second POV. So if the overall story or POV are a bit choppy, that's why haha! Anyway, I love and appreciate you all!! <3 <3

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Divider Credit ~ @animatedglittergraphics-n-more