#that ended up in me having a lot of fun emotional trauma

[thoughtscout]

I think it's genuinely becoming concerning how hyper-sexualized we, as a society, are becoming. does no one else think it's genuinely worrying that so many women can remember being a child not being able to google their favourite female cartoon character without seeing grotesquely over-sexualized fanart of her that they couldn't even healthily process at the time, and if you talk about that making you uncomfortable or affecting your wellbeing in any way, you're called a puritan, or a prude, or some other pejorative to indicate that having complex or negative feelings about sexuality in any way is callous or judgemental or a display of moral superiority? why is it so difficult to find art or media that isn't sexualized in nature? why are we so obsessed with making a special and unique feature of the human condition our primary focus almost all of the time? even more concerning is that it isn't just some niche little group of people on the internet, it's rampant. every nook and cranny of the internet has these people, ready and raring to compare you to a Christian missionary if you dare speak anything slightly negative about society's many varying views on sexuality. like the people on Twitter proudly displaying their incest/rape kink (I've seen this one A LOT), because how can you claim to be an ally to survivors of sexual assault, or a feminist, but not even be able to recognize that incestuous abuse is one of the most common forms of child sexual abuse that is committed to young girls by their male relatives, and that women struggle to have their rape stories taken seriously because sexual abuse has been culturally normalized by the mainstream-ification of violent, abusive pornography? why do other people criticizing how modern sexuality enables rape culture make you feel personally threatened or limited in your own, private relationship to your own sexuality? and where does it end? are we going to start telling women who say "no thank you, I'm not interested" to 'loosen up' and 'learn to have some fun' again? are we going to ban women from the platforms they created for themselves to talk about their experiences with sexual trauma and assault? start protecting sex offenders from being held accountable for their crimes, start ignoring the role marriage plays as an institution for male control over female sexuality, start preaching that individual sexual pleasure is all that matters, and anyone who disagrees is a fascist? I'm sure that a large part of the problem is that these people generally have a Shadow Complex, and are still stuck in the "I like to pretend I'm being so rebellious against sexual shame culture, but really my shame is just making me act out in hyper-sexual ways just to be contrarian and spiteful to the perceived status quo, because I never developed the emotional tools needed to simultaneously practice destigmatizing human sexuality while also maintaining critical thinking towards sexual culture, which shows that I'm actually still feeling my internalized shame on a very deep level, and it's still very much affecting me in unconscious and almost uncontrollable ways" phase, which is honestly the case for most of them. I'm just worried for the future, because all the people saying these things are just reinventing pornographic rape culture under the guise of progressivism, and are (intentionally or unintentionally, it depends) causing more harm than good.

I think it's genuinely concerning how sex-negative we, as a society, are becoming. (This post brought to you by a few tweets I saw)

Does no one else think it's genuinely worrying how if you even find a fictional character attractive, you're called a gooner, or a degenerate, or some other pejorative to indicate that being sexual in any way is gross and nasty and yucky? Why does art suddenly lack artistic value because it's sexual in nature? Why are we so obsessed with associating a core feature of the human condition with shame and guilt?

Even more concerning is that it isn't just some niche little group of people on the internet, it's rampant. Every nook and cranny of the internet has these people, ready and raring to call you names if you dare speak anything slightly not-safe-for-work.

Like the people on twitter openly calling trans women degenerates and freaks for having an incest/rape kink (I've seen this one A LOT), because how can you claim to be an ally, or lgbt-friendly, or a feminist, but get mad at a woman expressing her sexuality? Why does sexuality gross you out to the point you feel the need to demean people over it?

And where does it end? Are we going to start calling women who dress a little too revealing 'sluts' again? Are we going to ban sex scenes in movies? Start preaching abstinence, say sex outside of marriage is bad, that lust is immoral, and being gay is a sin?

I'm sure that a large part of the problem is that these people are generally children, and still in the "sex is gross" phase, but I know that's not the case with all of them. I'm just worried for the future, because all the people saying these things are just reinventing conservatism under the guise of progressivism, and are (intentionally or unintentionally, I'm not sure) causing more harm than good.

I know we talk about puritanism and stuff all the time, but in my opinion, it's gotten to a point even the actual puritans didn't get to.

[tending-the-hearth]

turtle angst au headcanon time: bayverse donnie and rottmnt mikey are the family therapists

bayverse donnie has gotten bored multiple times hiding out in the lair and has no less than two degrees from online universities, one of them being in psychology, and he's become one of the main confidants of the 2012 boys, purely because he's able to talk them through things

same with rottmnt mikey, because he's just able to give them the tough love they sometimes need so that their thought process doesn't get overly self-destructive

[angeart]

My brain keeps going back to the hhau rambles and Grian asking Scar about taking his wings off and just...how incredibly short-sighted that "fix" would be. Because like, even if he lost one/both his wings and lived through it....he'd still have his instincts. He'd still chirp...he'd still wanna be high up in nests but he'd have to climb now. He'd never be able to wrap himself in wings again... depending on when that earring of Scar's might be the last of his feathers... and oh gosh post rescue? The hermits seeing him without wings and all the questions and looks of pity. Some well meaning hermit maybe brings him an elytra which he's never needed before and oh that could cause a spiral

-🎀

oh gosh. oh okay. i see you're bringing angst to my doorstep.

grian definitely wasn't thinking clearly in that moment. he simply reached a point where he can't see any other solution. so much of his anguish is tied to his wings. he's in pain and scared and he desperately wants it to stop.

he's learned to despise his wings. they cause him so much turmoil and everything that was ever good about them—everything he loved—has been meticulously erased. they're not pretty. they are dirty and grimy and itchy. heavy, unwieldy, muscles locked up, clumsy and aching from disuse. they no longer feel like a proper part of him. he's not using them, he's just constantly fighting to tuck them away. to make the world believe they're not there.

well then... wouldn't it be easier? if that was the reality?

to him, it sounds like a long-term solution to an otherwise never-ending problem.

his wings are a beacon, and wouldn't him and scar be so much safer without them? if he didn't have them, there'd be no reason for people to madly hunt him. maybe then they could stop running and catch their breath. maybe then scar wouldn't be in constant danger just from being near him. maybe then the fear lodged into grian's spine and the endless string of triggered panic attacks would finally go away.

yes, he'd still have his instincts. but he's already grounded. he's already not using his wings for any sort of comfort at this point, and flight is not an option. he's craving nests and high places, but that doesn't mean he can get them, wings or no wings, and— he was fine without that on hermitcraft! surely if the pain and fear stop, his instincts will calm down? surely, he can get at least a semblance of control back?

and you need to realise. there was no thought spared to the hermits. at this point, scar and grian have given up and no longer expect or even hope to ever be rescued. in their minds, there's no one coming to save them. there's no home to go back to. it's just this.

it will always be this.

and this is painful, and grian is clawing at ideas of making it better somehow—anyhow—no matter how drastic or gruesome that option might seem.

that all being said... man. that big what if. what if he really lost them? what if, one way or another, he managed to get rid of his wings? what if that happened and he survived?

your point about how scar's earring would be the last of grian's feathers is so heartrending. that'd be so tragic and sad.

and then post-rescue, the hermits would have even more proof of the damage. even more questions, too. even more helplessness as how to help, when the damage done is long since unfixable </3

grian, having to wrangle with having a safe environment to fly again, but having no wings to fly with... especially if that was his own choice. if it was preventable. ouch.

[nexility-sims]

🌷

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Your Knight in Shining Armor

Kinktober 2024 Day 1: Whump Yandere Male Royal x Male Reader AND (separately) Yandere Male Dragon Hybrid x Male Reader CW: Painful noncon, blowjobs, minor physical abuse, verbal abuse, homophobia, internalized homophobia, bullying, kidnapping, minor character death, implied minor character murder, non-human genitalia, emotional trauma, angst, hurt with little comfort, humiliation, degradation, shame, a lot of crying, general yandere behavior, possessive yandere, whump, Dead Dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 3.5k (I decided to make my own list of kinks/scenarios for kinktober. I am only posting every other day and not everything is a full fic, though there are several full fics in the mix. This has been a labor of love for you my beautiful readers, please enjoy!)

The Prince of Thornhollow, Percival, was pampered and spoiled by his royal upbringing. He seemed to have been almost blessed. Not just by birth but also in ability. In contests with his knights, he was always the victor, and in his hunts, he had always been successful. The skill he possessed only served to grow his sense of superiority.

He also delighted in cruelty. All of this was unleashed upon castle servants. Since you were his personal servant, you suffered the most abuse by far. The prince tripped you, made fun of you, ridiculed you for the smallest things, and smacked you around whenever he was upset.

A few times he forced you to jerk him off and look at him while you licked the cum from his cock. He loved the humiliation in your eyes.

"You should be thanking me for letting you taste the royal seed with your peasant mouth."

It wasn't a suggestion. You had to thank him. He berated you afterward for being a girl and liking dick. It was an open secret that you fancied other men, and it was a favorite subject for Percival to pick at.

Sadly his sexual abuse didn’t end there. One time, when he was drunk on wine and you had been cleaning his chambers, he suddenly pinned you against the wall and kissed you roughly on the mouth. Sloppy and uncoordinated, you could taste the wine.

You flinched from his touch, sure that it was a cruel joke. And even if it wasn't your first kiss, you should have been from someone you loved, not someone you feared.

Percival grabbed your wrists to stop your squirming.

"Stop fighting, slut."

His words were harsh but his voice had a certain softness that you were not accustomed to from him. It was obviously the alcohol.

"You're gay, I'm an attractive man, I know you want this."

You yelped as he spun you around and grinded against your ass. You had no choice but to comply with his every whim... he was royalty. He nuzzled your neck and cooed into your ear.

"You're shaking so much, I bet your trembles will feel so good from inside you."

Percival pulled your pants down, followed by his. He took a gob of precum from his cock and massaged it into your hole.

"I bet you can't believe your luck, having the prince do this to you."

He slid a finger into you, followed by another. You wept silently as he squirmed inside your ass to stretch you out.

"I'm not a gay freak like you, this is just your reward for being such a good servant all these years. You deserve it."

The prince sucked and kissed your neck as he slowly pierced you with his cock.

You gasped for breath as the pain made you speechless. You would have fallen to the ground had Percival not been propping you up with his strong hands. There was a resounding smack as his nuts hit your ass with every thrust. You tried to squirm free, instinct overriding the attempt to obey a superior, but Percival wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"Just try to relax. You'll love it. I know you'll love my cock."

He nibbled on your ear and trailed kisses down your neck.

"Stop crying, you're being really ungrateful... it's starting to annoy me..."

He began going at a crueler pace in his frustration. He felt between your legs and you were barely even hard. He thought you'd love this, there were prevalent rumors that several knights had used you as a convenient cumdump and he was obviously better than they were. Of course, you were a virgin, and the prince was robbing you of your first time in the most brutal fashion.

After filling you with his cum he let you slump to the floor as he sneered.

He was still drunk, but his orgasm brought a bit of clarity, letting his elitism and internalized homophobia bubble back to the surface where it mingled with his disappointment and insecurity at the fact that sex with him wasn't enjoyable for you.

He was too ignorant to know that much better lube and stretching needed to be used while you were more relaxed. Percival wiped himself off with a rag and then threw it at you with a look of disgust.

"Clean yourself up, then get the hell out and don't let anyone know, or I'll cut out your tongue."

You wiped the cum and blood from you quickly and staggered to your feet before hobbling away while sniffling. He didn't do anything like that again, not even force you to suck him, but he did treat you worse for weeks.

His disposition finally went back to his normal level of disdain when he finally got his new set of enchanted armor. It was white and black, with silver and gold filigree. It became your most important set of tasks, fetching, polishing, and putting away his armor as well as helping him into it. Though even when it was perfectly polished, it was not unheard of for you to get a minor thrashing at the hands of the prince.

The life you had was pretty miserable. Even though the prince acted as a tyrant to his personal servant, you, he protected his and the crown’s image. It helped that the royal family's policies and skills at governing resulted in a fairly content lower class. Percival, especially, was beloved by many. The handsome prince with his blood red hair and muscular physique. He was quite charming and had drawn the affection of many noble ladies. This meant you couldn't find an escape or even speak badly about the prince because you would surely be ratted out.

So you went about tending to the prince as best you could and just hoping that he wasn't in a foul mood at any given time. But the prince wasn't the only thing you had to worry about.

There was a dragon-man hybrid, Rinvir, that had been attracted by a certain shiny gleam. He found that it was the valuable armor of the prince.

Of course, it may be good to have someone tend to the armor sometimes. Maybe they could polish other treasures for him. When he watched you shine the armor, he couldn't help but think how nice it would be to have your delicate human hands tend to his "sword" too. And maybe how good it would feel "sheathed" inside of you.

Rinvir wouldn't just mate with a human for such a flimsy reason, so he stalked you and the prince. Whenever he was hunting with you as his assistant, whenever you were in the training fields helping him put on his armor, whenever you were alone and tending to your outdoor duties.

He hated the prince but fell deeply in love with you. You were so kind and soft-spoken, so diligent with your work no matter what the task.

Rinvir wanted you even more than the immensely valuable armor. He still wanted the armor in his hoard, though, too. It would spite the prince nicely.

The dragon-man waited until a lovely clear day when you were just about to help Percival into his armor. He was screaming at you to hurry up as you were struggling with its immense weight. Rinvir swooped down and snatched you right up, armor and all. A flash of shiny blue scales was all the prince saw before you were gone. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment before collecting himself.

"But... that one was... mine..."

He had to have yo-, no, his... armor back. It was so valuable and had been forged partly by magical means. Luckily, his father, the king, agreed. It was an insult to their rule to let such a slight go unpunished.

Dragon-men were strong, but the prince had a good number under his command, his own talents, and the magic of the court wizard backing him up. He'd have his precious peasant back by any means! And this time, he'd not let silly shit like fear of rumors and homophobia stop him from holding you close in bed while rearranging your guts.

Oh, uh... and he'd have his fancy enchanted armor back... that was what he was really worried about... the armor... yeah...

Meanwhile, at the formerly abandoned lakeside temple that Rinvir called home, you were crying. A giant man with shaggy unkempt hair, huge blue wings, horns, and scales up and down his arms and legs had just made off with you. Surely he would eat you or kill you for sport.

"Shhh, calm down, delicate thing."

He took you to his underground treasure room and put the armor on a stand then gave his undivided attention to you.

"You're my new favorite treasure!"

He nuzzled into your neck and licked your cheek, causing you to shudder.

"I-I'm not a treasure... j-just take me back home!"

He laughed. That wasn't happening.

"And go back to that abusive royal? Not a chance. You're gonna be my mate."

At first, you were borderline hostile. Then you were extremely reluctant. But as the days and weeks turned into months, you became more and more amicable to your self-appointed boyfriend. Rinvir did so much for you. He set up a little garden so you could enjoy outside time because you always looked at peace during your brief moments in the palace gardens.

He caught food for you. Though you did have to prepare it, he was no chef. But you had to prepare fresh meat on the prince's hunts all the time. But now you got to cook it how you preferred and Rinvir left you the best bits.

When you were sore, he gave the best massages.

When you slept, he held you tight to provide warmth.

When it came to sex Rinvir was a patient and gentle lover. So far, you had only pleased him with your mouth and hands, and he had returned the favor. His cock was thick and slimy but you actually enjoyed how it felt in your hands and the taste wasn’t bad either. He never pressured you into anything and was content with letting you explore what you liked at your own pace.

He really was your savior. Your dragon in shining scales.

It had been three months. Three agonizing months without his manservant. His beloved. His father had ordered him to give up the search because at this point, it was getting costly, and the prince had matters of state that needed attending. They could always make new armor and still investigate in smaller numbers if there were solid leads about the dragon.

That wasn't acceptable to Percival. His servant was probably dead or, at the very least, being tortured by a beast. It had been so long, and there were no guarantees that you were still alive. Percival had to have closure and revenge. Even if you were alive, he'd need revenge for having to endure without you, and you had surely missed him. If you were still hanging on you probably felt abandoned.

His father wouldn't budge. And when, in desperation, Percival had told him he valued and needed your friendship, his father had laughed him out of the throne room.

Unfortunately for you, his father came down with a sudden case of "died in the middle of the night." It was assumed he had succumbed to his advanced age, though that wasn’t the case.

King Percival redoubled the efforts into finding that thief of a dragon. It took an extra month after his ascension to the throne, but he had discovered rumors of a shimmering blue dragon-man. Percival spared no expense. Took no chances. He surrounded the entire area with well over 100 troops and had hired an additional two mercenary mages to work alongside the court wizard. They had used great magic to keep the approach silent.

It was the middle of the night when they made their move. Rinvir heard them approach and woke you up quickly.

"I think the prince found us! There's a lot of them. I can't believe they got so close without me noticing!"

He held you in his arms and planned to fly off with you through the temple's tower window.

You were too frightened to speak, but you had confidence in Rinvir's ability to get you to safety.

Rinvir spread his wings and leapt from the window. But a beam of light made by the combined magic of the King's sorcerers pulled the two of you to the ground.

Percival's heart leapt at the sight of you. He could scarcely believe you were still alive. This was amazing. He'd take you back, marry you at once, keep you safe, and heal you from whatever trauma this brute subjected you to.

"SLOWLY!!! He has my betrothed!!"

Yes, he was quickly paralyzed with powerful magic, and you were pried from his grasp.

Your knightly king would have you soon. Percival would make up for every bad word he ever uttered to you, for every humiliation, for hurting you the first time the two of you had made love because he had assumed you were more experienced.

He felt silly for having brought a small army when all he had needed were a few powerful magic users. They brought you to him, and he hoisted you into one of the wagons that had been brought to take back the dragon's treasures.

Percival removed his replacement armor and pulled you right into his lap. You had been shocked into silence with everything having moved so fast. One moment, you were snuggled up with Rinvir, your love, and suddenly, you found yourself in the lap of the man who made you hate life. Who's touch made you want to vomit.

You tried to shake him off and escape his hold.

"M-my Rinvir... I got to see Rinvir..."

"Who? That glorified lizard? Has he brainwashed you!? They say the best way to break such magic is with the touch of a loved one."

His hands were all over you as he peppered you with small kisses.

"Forget that monster, you're safe now, I promise."

"Y-you don't understand! I love him! Please let us go!"

He held you tightly with one arm as he began stripping you down with the other.

"I know just the thing to break this bewitchment."

Percival figured even if you weren't under the power of a spell that giving you his cock and making you feel good would still help you get over your overgrown lizard. The king kept you on his lap but turned you to face him. He swallowed up all of your protests with a deep hungry kiss, his tongue rolling around your mouth as it invaded you.

You started thrashing more as his finger grazed your hole. He held you tight as he leaned over and grabbed a vial from a box underneath his seat. He had this wagon prepared for your rescue if it was successful.

“Please don't. J-just let me go back...”

He put the contents on his fingers and massaged them diligently into your hole, slowly adding more digits until you could handle four of them with ease. Then he slicked up his large cock.

"Don't worry. This will be so much better than last time. I'll be the only man you ever think of after this."

His mouth attended to your neck as he slid into you slowly, going at a slow pace and making sure he hit a spot in you with each thrust that made you shudder and keen.

Percival had to admit that it was his fault your first time was awful. But he had consulted books since then. If he had been this attentive the first time, he could have been bedding you for a long time. You wept silently as your body betrayed you entirely, Percival assumed that the pleasure was just too much for you. You came intensely, spurting cum all over his hard abs and chest.

He went faster, still careful to go at a pace that wouldn't hurt you, as he chased his own climax. Being inside you finally and seeing your face as it was so ruined by pleasure sent him over the edge, and he filled your bowels with his semen.

"See!? Isn't that so much better? We can do it all the time now! I forgot to tell you! I'm the king!!!"

He held you close, burying your face in his pecs as he rubbed your back.

"If anyone gives us shit for being gay I'll cut their tongue out."

Percival was worried because you kept shaking and sobbing, but when you cried about wanting to go back to Rinvir, his attitude went icy. He peeled you off of his dick and cleaned you up roughly but then sat you across from him.

He had to remind himself that you had suffered great trauma, and it would likely take time to heal since it clearly wasn't a mere spell that had been laid upon you. He had to remain kind to you because it wasn't your fault, and a king shouldn't treat his betrothed too harshly.

Besides, he still had to make up for all the torture he put you through.

But he was not known for his patience. As the weeks passed, he grew increasingly irritable and could no longer handle your ceaseless whingeing about Rinvir.

Percival arranged for you to meet the piece of trash.

He took you down to the dungeon where you saw Rinvir. He was encased in a solid block of some type of enchanted glass or maybe even magical ice, completely unable to move. You fell to your knees and pressed your hands to the surface of the material as you cried his name. You hadn't seen him since you were ripped from his arms, you hadn't even known whether or not he survived!

"He's still alive, you know?"

Percival leaned down and spoke softly into your ear.

"I was going to have him displayed in the throne room, but that would have been too cruel to you, and I do love you so."

The depraved king applied a special lube to his fingers. One that was guaranteed to make you cum hard.

"He can see and hear everything. Since you cry for him so much in my presence, it is only fair that he hears how I make you moan and cry in pleasure."

You were crying so desperately that Percival's words hardly registered at all. Only when he pulled down your leggings did you realize his intent. You squirmed and writhed as he put the lube in you, feeling a strange heat inside you as he rubbed it in.

He gripped your hips and lined up with your hole, your crying face looking down shamefully to avoid seeing Rinvir as Percival took you.

His cock kissed that spot inside you and instantly you started moaning. It was like he was pumping a surge of ecstasy into you with every thrust. Though tears fell to the cold dungeon floor as he fucked into you, you couldn't help arching your back and moving against every thrust in an effort to feel it more deeply.

It was something you had never done before while Percival "made love" to you.

Percival greatly increased the pace. He wanted Rinvir to hear the smack every single time he drove into you, wanted you to hear the squelch from the precum and lube as he pressed into you, and most of all wanted him to hear all the pretty little gasps and moans HIS fiancé was making that HE had caused.

Percival's throbbing cock spilled rope after rope of semen into you, causing you to practically collapse to the floor in a riot of bliss as you came. You buried your head in your arms in humiliation and guilt. Your loving king angled your head up and forced you to look at Rinvir.

"It probably hurts him a great deal to see you like this, don't you think? From now on, anytime you mention his name, I am going to bring you down here and breed you right in front of him."

Percival sneered evilly at Rinvir. He knew from your defeated expression that he had won. The king kissed and comforted you as he picked you up to take you to bed. You had a long day, and tomorrow there was a wedding to start planning... now that you were over your ex...

He left the mess that had pooled out of you right where it had fallen. Rinvir could look at all the cum he had put into you for a while as a reminder of what Percival did to those who would dare take what was his.

[rxmxa]

random astro observations part 14. ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆✨

✨just for fun im just talking random ass shit based on PERSONALL observations..✨ part 13 here. 🎬

tw: mention of death on the last observations.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅pisces, cancer and scorpio risings WILLL be treating the date like a job interview. With that earth 7h (virgo, capricorn and taurus) TRUST that we have checked out your references and will get back to you in 2-5 business days. 💅 but no fr we need security bc we are real strict over here.🔒

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅its only to protect our hearts bc we just truly desire someone we can emotionally connect with (water 5h) and also be open to talk to about our fears and desires and the other shit we keep to ourselves (air 8h + 12h) 😤

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅my friend was telling me about how the lines that actors get immense praise for end up being improvised most of the time and that really reminded me of the aqua-leo axis. When you detach and are willing to experiment (aqua) the more likely you are to be recognized because you are becoming in tune with your natural talents (leo).

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅Every single time I'm in the shower I always get an epiphany or an idea of some sort or make a connection (usually its me thinking about peoples birth charts LOL) but every single fucking time im like wtf I gotta remember this when I get out this is good ass info! and I always forget!!!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ It has to be my uranus in the 12h triggering that. Uranus= sudden downloads of information. 12h= secluded spaces, like the shower. I guess thats why I forgot so easily though (real 12h subconcious shit). Next time im bringing a whiteboard in there or some shit

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I was talking to my pisces venus coworker and she was saying that for as long as she could remember she had always daydreamed of love. She said she would was always trying to mold herself into the ideal version of what her crushes liked (its in her 7h) and as a 7h sun myself I was shook but I also understood how this happens even in a subconcious way u can mirror people. but the love she's looking for is literally HERS. she has so much love to give and she was like who can accept this? YOU. GIVE it to yourself.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ She had been in a relationship before with someone who was SHIT person but its like she kept forgiving him or in a sense blocking it out. like thats the thing about pisces placements they will talk about some unhinge ass shit someone does to them in a such a casual way it will have you being like oh okay for a sec until you're like oh,, oh yeah no thats bad.. really bad. I say this as a pisces rising.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ and AGAIN AND AGAIN that's what helps me as someone with a lot of neptune aspects, a pisces rising, pluto squares, pluto in the 10h, lilith in the 11h, like ppl have done me FUCKING DIRTY in social and groups settings and I use to make it so much worse for myself by not nipping it in the bud. that's why anytime someone does some shit that FEELS FUCKED up you take that as a sign.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ^ dont sit there and try to rationalize it, dont try to put logic in it, dont talk about how well, when they were in 2nd grade their hamster died so maybe its their trauma. When people show you who they are you ACCEPT IT. if someone does something that a piece of shit would only do, then accept that maybe they suck. I dont mean your friend forgot to get you a straw when they bought you a drink. I mean when people do shit on purpose that puts your well-being (emotional, mental, physical) in harms way. trust me bby ik what im talking about >___<

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ and honestly, if you are plutonian or have a lot of neptune aspects or saturn in your chart as well, you're gonna learn shit the hard way. With different energy ofc. Pluto energy = will have you learning through trauma like someone passing away or trying to sabotage you. Neptune energy = will have you learning through deception like someone backstabbing you. Saturn energy= will have you learning through roadblocks, like other people being able to get shit the easy way out like a parent paying for their stuff and you having to bust your ass to get it.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ pluto in your chart can also show where people try to humble you, not like a saturnian restrictive way but more like to put you in your place because they could feel intimidated. for ex I have pluto in the 10h and my coworkers will say backhanded shit like "Oh woooow you really are going all out huh?" like instead of being normal and being like wow that is great work! they try to subtly hint that maybe im the one doing too much instead of it being them doing the bare minimum.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ If you have pluto in the 1h people could just say in general that "you're too much" or "too much to deal with" or "abrasive." Pluto in the 3h and during conversations people might look around, eyes wide, wanting you to tone it down or say that you're being inappropriate or too intense. Pluto in the 4h and people ESPECIALLY your family trying to humble you by bringing up the past: "Oh you like that now? I remember when you were a kid you..." Pluto in the 4h will especially get humbled by their family anytime they want to change or try something different than the way they were raised, like girl?! this is a family not a damn CULT.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I have a pluto in the 4h friend who has family members that will tell the most fucked up stories about what they do to each other but then sigh and be like "but family is family so we have to accept them" or her family members say stuff like "blood is thicker than water." like no... pluto in the 4h ppl, family is who YOU CHOSE!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I have a coworker who is sooo nice to me but still theres something that makes me feel suspicious of her and it makes me feel so bad BUT TO BE FAIR she does have her mars in my 7h and we did have a slight rift when we first started working together. but even now, im still like do u secretly hate me...

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ She has mars in the 12th house and I also feel like thats a big factor in it because 12h house energy is so... MUTED. with placements there you really gotta focus on peoples subtle acts of support that reveal their intentions versus their words (or lack of). And so far she has been a very supportive and helpful coworker. But yeah thats 12h energy honestly like my friends brother is a cancer sun and mercury in the 12h and she feels like hes so unloving and unsupportive and its bc baby boy is not gonna be straight up telling her! she needs to watch his actions, his mannerisms. she needs to understand him more through his actions over time rather than words. ofc it varies from chart to chart.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ people with 12h mars could often have people WONDERING, "oh are they mad at me?" or sun 12h ppl could have people wondering, "oh what are they hiding from me?" or mercury in the 12h could have people wondering, "Oh, what is that they are not saying?"

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Do you follow your profection years? For me, it’s wild how they line up. When I was in a 7H year, I got into my first serious relationship (classic 7H relationships vibe). When I was 7 years old, in my 8H year, my dad passed away (8H ruling death). Fast forward to my 9H year (travel), I visited family abroad after four years—that’s the longest I’ve EVER gone without seeing them.Then, in my 10H year (careers), I literally started my career. My 12H year? traumatic as fuck (I got into a serious car accident with friends and my back was fucked up and my friend had internal bleeding) but honestly the aftermath of that really forced me to grow the fuck up and surprise surprise, all of that happened bc I wasnt trusting my gut on who I was hanging out with. but anyhoo. Now I’m in a 1H year, and it’s all about me. I’m actually focusing on myself and being way more gentle in the process. It’s been kind of nice, honestly. if u wanna know yours just google annual profections it'll show u the wheel :)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Saturn transits in your chart mean fucking BUSINESS! I remember my friend got married when saturn (commitments) was transiting her 7h (marriage/ contracts). Saturn transits will have you reflecting on what you want long term in your life and what desperately needs to be checked in on or discarded or cleaned up.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Saturn in pisces transiting in my first house had me acting right. I remember when a "friend" aka someone who was at fault with that whole car accident shit (someone who I dont speak to anymore) had asked me to do some shady shit after it. I was like FUCK NO! no bc 1) I have integrity but also 2) if I tried to take the easy way out or bullshit I knew saturn was gonna beat my ass HARDER. im glad I trusted myself and was the bigger person.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Saturn was still transiting my 1H during the accident, but it had just come out of my 12H, where I was actively in therapy. In my 1H, I’d been feeling way more at peace and healed, so when I started making questionable choices with who I was hanging out with, it was like Saturn decided it was time to knock some sense into me.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Me: walking on the ledge, ignoring my instincts, hanging with toxic people Saturn: "Don’t do that, you’re gonna fall." Me: falls Saturn: "DIDN’T I FUCKING TELL YOUUU?!"

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ but you know you live and you learn and at the end of the day it could have been so much worse (aka all of us being dead) but me and friend made a full recovery and everyone else had minor injuries.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I was watching this video called "the root cause of addiction" and in the video he said that at the end of the day we're are just looking for ways to go back to that child we once were and to experience genuine joy. and that was so 5h coded to me. He said in the video we do things like cooking or play video games because we want to get that joy back. The 5th house is all about sex, good fortune, art, creativity, pleasure, entertainment, birth, children. We really can use our 5th house to actively nurture our inner child.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ for example, cancer or moon in the 5th house wants to go back to space where they feel safe, warm, and comfortable. feeling free to express ur softness and vulnerability. a place you love going back to! they can do this through cooking, baking, or watching your childhood favorite movie with family.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ the little things, like baking a pie or getting out an old art project help us connect with the childlike wonder and happiness that we still have inside us. You can find your own special, simple pleasures by looking into the 5th House in your chart. And even if ur childhood was not the best (I completely get that) you can nurture your inner child now !! your hobbies and fave past times r not silly they matter too

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ and think about the 5h-11h axis, if anything your hobbies and creativity (5h) helps you find your people and be in groups that actually align with what u love and care about (11h)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚and think about how sometimes that hobby or passion (5h) can bring u immense success, recognition and profit (11h)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ with pluto in aqua we are going to see people (aqua) transforming (pluto) their lives in all aspects in regard to their hobbies and passions (5h). People are gonna continue to explore what they love and find their niche and for some their success will skyrocket over night, for others the process might be slower. think about the ppl making bank rn from tiktok videos organizing their fridge. bc it just makes them happy to do it.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ tw: death. I'm not trying to end on a dark note, its merely a thought I had so please take this with a grain of salt. but speaking of pluto in aqua, that reminds me of this video I was watching about how the Romans would have the Gladiatorial games, where combatants fought each other or wild animals to the death, BECAUSE they were so overindulgent in all other areas in life....

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ like you have sooo much that your idea of pleasure just gets distorted in this sense. what do you want when you have had everything?. The scale of these events was astonishing, with sometimes hundreds of animals being killed in a single day. Pluto in aqua is going to transform the way as a society we view, experience and talk about death.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ there are ppl that are gonna have so much wealth and power and be so fucking bored that maybe in 20 years from now someone gets jailed or some shit to try to recreate that. I remember reading this story in high school about this rich man who had an isolated island and he would have people lost on it to hunt them for sport. iM NOT SAYING we're about to get put on the wall like those deers when pluto goes into aqua, im SAYING THO that shit like that, ideas like that, could pop up

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I was also thinking about how pluto in aqua could mean more video games or tech or simulations (aqua) where you can try out how it feels like to die (pluto). like you can pick how and what you want to feel. some kind of shit like that. tech is only gonna keep getting more and more advanced now. we talk about the ipad kids and how they be on there typing and facetiming ppl and therye like 2 but imagine the kids growing up during pluto in aqua, I already know theyre gonna think we're soo uncool hahaha

[lassieposting]

Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

[vivmaek]

SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS: PT.III

SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS PT. I

SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS PT. II

✰ my masterlist

✺ Sun in the 12th House ✺ You might feel especially drained during this year. It's going to be hard to wake up everyday, your body and soul need rest. Maintaining a positive attitude is going to be difficult, life may feel overwhelming and you’ll feel as though you don’t have the strength to take it all on. But, trust that you do. This SR placement makes me think of a specific quote, “In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” (Albert Camus)

✺ Venus Opposite Saturn ✺ All of your insecurities are going to be heightened. This might be a lonely year for you, there won’t be many social events. Do everything you can to avoid financial debt, and if you have any, put all of your best effort into paying it off.

✺ Jupiter in 7th House ✺ The partners in your life will serve as a great source of joy, and you’ll have luck in companionship. These relationships will make you feel safe, and it would be a good year to get married. If single, you might begin a relationship with a foreigner or could meet a future spouse while traveling! The dating scene won’t be difficult to navigate, you’ll have many options to choose from. Business negotiations and legal matters will run smoothly. Have fun with this time and don’t be afraid to chase after opportunities.

✺ Moon in 1st House ✺ Your personal needs are going to become a priority. You’ll feel sensitive and your self-esteem might take a hit. Whatever emotional experience you’re going through will be apparent to other people, and this will make you feel vulnerable. These uncomfortable experiences will help you work on your insecurities and you’ll grow to become more comfortable with yourself. The SR Moon sign will highlight specific emotional encounters you’ll face this year. If it’s an earth sign, you’ll be focused on practical needs. If it's a fire sign, you’ll deal with feelings of anger and might have a chaotic emotional landscape. An air sign might make you feel disconnected from your emotions, and you might spend the entire year crying with a water sign.

✺ Saturn Trine Ascendant ✺ You will mature greatly over the course of this year. Heavy responsibilities will be placed upon you, but you will rise to the occasion. Your commitments and goals take priority and become central to your personality.

✺ Mars in 8th House ✺ If you’ve encountered violent trauma within the past, you’ll begin to heal and transform these wounds. You might encounter people or situations that remind you of these past events, and it can be jarring. However, you’ll feel stronger than ever and will take back your personal power. You will put a lot of energy into transforming your own psyche and are ready to go to war. This type of healing is not a quiet, peaceful process. A lot of rage and anger will become unleashed, but these emotions must be embraced and fully felt. You’ll find emotional release through physical movement, such as sex or high intensity exercise.

✺ Jupiter Square Saturn ✺ If you’ve been battling addictions, they may come to an end during this year. This will be a difficult transition and a very painful process. Long held beliefs and ideas are being restructured for your benefit. You might not have enough money to buy all the luxuries that you desire, facing financial hardship is another possibility.

✺ Taurus 7th House ✺ Down-to-earth people will be attracted to you this year and they will offer you a sense of stability. You will experience many romantic moments with your partner, these situations will feel effortless. Your natural beauty will be heightened.

✺ Mercury in the 1st House ✺ The downside to this SR placement is a heightened sense of anxiety and restlessness. Your thoughts will be moving faster than ever. However, you might find yourself more comfortable with communicating your thoughts and social exchanges will run smoothly. You might find yourself posting a lot more on social media and interacting with people you normally wouldn’t. You’ll learn a lot throughout this year, but these lessons will be humorous and light-hearted.

✺ Saturn Square MC ✺ You will have to take on extra responsibilities and burdens. All of your focus will be directed towards career progress. You might be under a lot of pressure and obstacles will stand in the way of success. Your sense of dedication is being tested.

✺ Pluto in 3rd House ✺ Watch out for gossip during this year! You’ll learn about the true power of words. Confidential information may come forward, or you might have to deal with information that's been manipulated. Power struggles will showcase themselves through conversation and psychological games will be played. You could find yourself obsessively thinking over a particular issue and it might begin to rule over your life. Your relationships with your siblings will undergo a transformation. There might be a lot of construction within your surrounding neighborhood, it will be loud and disruptive and might force you to change your route to work/school.

✺ Venus Square Jupiter ✺ Having different values and beliefs can serve as a source of conflict within relationships. You might have a generous partner, but they don't quite understand what you want or need.

✺ Venus in the 12th House ✺ You may be faced with financial insecurity. If you're looking for a job, it will be a struggle to find one, especially one that will pay the wages you deserve. However, the emotional strain that occurs due to this will not be all-consuming. This uncertainty will force you to focus on the spiritual aspects of life, and you’ll feel somewhat detached. Protecting your sense of peace will be a priority. This year will be somewhat isolating and you won’t be attending too many social gatherings. You might find it difficult to show other people affection.

✺ Neptune in 4th House ✺ You may want to move residences, but confusion and delays will follow suit. A friend or family member in need might crash at your house for an unknown amount of time. An elderly family member might move in, and you’ll have to take care of them or figure out other living arrangements.

✺ Venus in 10th House ✺ You’ll find a lot of success within your career this year. You’ll be a favorite amongst authority figures and will build up a good social network within the professional world. You might start dating a colleague, or you could befriend one. You might fall in love with your job.

✺ Saturn in the 6th House ✺ Responsibilities are going to be hitting you hard this year, they’ll be unavoidable. You may feel incredibly limited within your day to day life and this will leave you feeling frustrated. Superiors at work might become a domineering presence within your life. All work, no play. Your rewards for these efforts will be delayed, and you might not receive proper compensation. Bad health habits will catch up with you, make sure to take care of yourself.

✺ Neptune in the 7th House ✺ You’ll feel very unsure about where a particular partnership is headed. The boundaries are unclear, and you’ll find yourself giving into wishful thinking. Oftentimes if something is too good to be true, it usually is. You might be willing to sacrifice certain aspects of your life so you can be with this person. Try to let go and let things play out naturally. Don’t get too emotionally invested if you’re dealing with a casual relationship. These connections feel spiritual and a certain amount of glamor will be present. Even if negative experiences occur, you can use these lessons to heal.

✺ Gemini 10th House ✺ If you're looking for a job, going into sales might be your best bet. You’ll find yourself socializing a lot at work, and might even have fun. Answering phone calls and responding to emails becomes important within your career. You could be the youngest person in your field, or you might gain a reputation for being immature. Internships or taking part in some sort of mentorship is a big possibility here.

✺ Pluto in the 5th House ✺ If you’ve been wanting to undergo a creative project, now would be the best time. You’ll feel an intense drive to master your craft and will feel dedicated and focused. There is also the possibility of encountering someone who you’re deeply attracted to. These love feelings will be all-consuming and you might feel obsessed. Your sex life will be fun, intense, and emotionally fulfilling. Take precaution, and watch out for pregnancy if that's something you’re trying to avoid. Romantic encounters could also serve as a major source of creative inspiration.

✺ Vesta in the 10th House ✺ You’ll have to nurture and tend to your career if you want to see success in this area. And this includes taking care of yourself. You’ll learn how to strike a balance between work and rest. Thinking about long term success will be a major theme for the year. Instead of chasing after risks and big moves, you’ll focus on small actions that have the ability to take you far. It's time to dedicate yourself fully to your professional life, but you don’t want to lose sight of who you are in the process.

✺ Scorpio Ascendant ✺ You’ll undergo an emotional + psychological transformation and this will become especially apparent in your personality and appearance. People who have known you your entire life might not recognize you by the end of the year. This can be disruptive, and you might find that certain relationships that were once deep, don’t serve you anymore.

✺ Aries 6th House ✺ Your day to day life will be filled with energy. You might have to pick up a busier schedule at work, but you’ll take it on with an aggressive attitude. Accepting defeat is not an option this year, your habits and routines will reflect this. This will be a healthy year for you, but if you get sick you might run the risk of running a high fever.

✺ Aquarius 6th House ✺ Your daily routines are going to look very different in comparison to last year. Your intellect will serve as a source of strength, and you might have to deal with new computer programs at work. Buying a new phone or computer is another possibility, some form of technology that is used within daily life. You could feel different or might even become outcasted at work due to a rebellious attitude.

✺ Libra 2nd House ✺ This will be a good year for money and income. Your sense of self-worth will increase. However, the risk of tying up your self worth within another person is another possibility. If you’re in a relationship, or begin one, this person will have many material gifts to give you.

[karmaphone]

my mom said that I'm always angry so I'm always going to be fighting and always going to be bitter about it but like. yeah it's a fight. how many times in how many stories can the point be made that the fight is made worth it by fighting than by the actual possibilities of winning before it sinks in that it's not actually about the space zombies or fantasy politics or the magic of friendship. it's about the value of the fight in and of itself

[astrotruther]

Astro Observations

misc. (ii)

🐉 Narcissists may have Mars-Uranus aspects in their chart. Mars’s energy can be either constructive or destructive; pair that with Uranus' erratic quality, and it could make one manipulative. In my opinion, Mars & Uranus having more harsh aspects to multiple other planets could further confirm this. Look out for squares, especially Moon square Mars!

🐉 Sun harsh aspects to Neptune, even conjunction can be somewhat superficial. Neptune may bless them with a mystique that attracts public attention, but they stick to a surface-level public persona. Artists with these aspects may stick to cookie-cutter projects. E.g. Colleen Hover responding to criticism by saying 'I write to entertain not to educate'. Jake Paul also has this aspect. In worst cases there's a delusional egotism to this aspect. On the other hand, easy aspects will be more willing to go within and proudly display their shadows, creating art that is meaningful and leaves a lasting legacy.

🐉 I've observed Scorpio Sun/ Moon in charts of those who backhandedly bully people over things like their appearance. Water Moons in general are capable of inflicting deep emotional wounds to others when unevolved. Having Mercury in a fire sign makes it a lot worse since the words become harsher. I've had a Scorpio Sun - Pisces Moon girl admit to me that she makes fun of people because she had the same done to her while growing up.

🐉 Libra MC are often told they should be models. Understandable because they're so photogenic!

🐉 Pluto-Ascendant easy aspects & conjunction are always reinventing themselves. It's easier for these people to let go of things that don't serve them and realign themselves with their inner true selves. They're skilled at coming to terms with their dark sides and alchemizing it to create a positive impact in the world.

🐉 On the contrary, harsh aspects may feel like they can't be themselves due to external factors or a certain image/ aesthetic that they have to uphold. Some may be child actors/ activists or made it big in early years making it hard to disrupt their public persona. It's way harder for them to branch out within their career field. Ascendant at 0° might have the same effect. E.g. Billie Eilish, Demi Lovato, Finn Wolfhard, Darsheel Safary, Malala Yousafzai, Meghan Trainor, Hilary Duff.

🐉 I've seen so many takes on the 0° & most people romanticizing it somehow. It may manifest in a divine way for those who are self-aware/ have evolved. however MOST people aren't. So it gives a somewhat negative quality to the placement, e.g. Jake Paul has his MC at 0°.

🐉 Moon-Pluto aspects not only symbolize a strained relationship with the mother but also with other women. A lot of trauma you accumulated while growing up was because of the women around you. Some of them may have made you feel bad about yourself because they were threatened by you. The signs Moon & Pluto are in could give more context, e.g. Aries Moon, Sag. Pluto = invalidating your anger, not letting you be yourself and forcing you to be someone they like, forcing religion on you from a young age etc.

🐉 Uranus square MC will have a career-ruining public scandal at least once. All I can say is avoid doing shady stuff and if it's external factors beyond your control, handle it with grace, lay low, you'll get your chance to shine again.

🐉 Moon square Lilith is an enemy placement. Moon person hates Lilith person's guts because Lilith person may have hurt them in some way. Moon could want revenge on Lilith for what they did.

🐉 Venus-Saturn aspects may have had people criticize their appearance while growing up, but they end up having insane glow-ups. Their most attractive years come somewhat later in life and they age very gracefully.

🐉 Moon in Cancer/ Moon conjunct Jupiter people possess the ability to manipulate, sometimes on a mass level. It's on them to use their emotional superpowers to influence people in a positive way and not just keep banking on their victim narratives. Nonetheless, these people can hold public interest for a long time.

🐉 Venus in 10th House synastry is often a clout/ PR couple. E.g. Glenn Powell & Sydney Sweeney.

Click daily to help Palestinians🍉🙏🏽: https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[thebibliosphere]

In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.

Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."

Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."

And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.

Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.

My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.

And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"

And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.

Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.

I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.

The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:

ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.

(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)

And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."

And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.

[mononijikayu]

last christmas — gojo satoru and geto suguru

"Don’t make me regret this, Satoru." you mumble, your face warm. ���We’re gonna have fun, but in a way we all would enjoy, okay?” “Hm, as you say, senpai!” He replies, still heavily enthusiastic. Suguru, still lying on the other side of the air mattress, lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Great. Now we’re all going, aren’t we?" "Obviously, Suguboo!" Satoru replies, his grin widening as he hops off your side. "I mean, what’s a theme park trip without all my best friends?" “Hey, don’t call me Suguboo.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, angst, fluff, humor, comfort, anxiety, lgbtqia+, friendship, found family, conflicted feelings, break up, noted romantic attraction, flashback, loss, light hearted, hurt/comfort, hurt, physical touch, mentioned character death, trauma, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, pining, sleep over, theme park, overworking, burnt out, nightmares, mentioned character deaths, mentioned trauma, this is the theme park episode folks;

WORD COUNT: 17k words

NOTE: i wanted to continue the past pov between satoru and suguru and this came to mind. i think there will be more on their holidays together but i liked this a lot because i think they'll have this sort of healthy dynamic when it came to their work before hidden inventory. anyway, i hope you enjoy it. happy holidays!!! i love you all <3

box it up, christmas hun! (santa kayu 2024)

main masterlist

us and them

if you want to, tip! <3

THERE HASN’T BEEN A DAY WHEN YOU WEREN’T CALLED INTO A PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE. But that was to be expected. In the line of work you have endured as a sorcerer since a child has made you too used to the situation.

But you felt something different when you entered the Yaga Masamichi’s office this time around. No, everything about this moment was different. Was it the fact that fall was ending and that winter was coming? Or was it his awful cologne choice? Perhaps you will never know. 

“You’re being given leave for the holidays.”

“Huh?”

“You’re not going to receive any winter missions.”

“Are you fucking around with me?”

The air in Yaga Masamichi’s office feels thick, heavy with the tension of your argument. You stand in front of his desk, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your frustration barely contained. Yaga, however, looks entirely unfazed as he reclines in his chair, his large frame a picture of unyielding authority.

"You’ve never taken a day off as a sorcerer. And you never ask for it. It’s high time you were given time off." he says again, voice calm but resolute, like he’s speaking to a stubborn child. "You’re not getting another mission right now. That’s final. The higher ups approved it."

You grit your teeth, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "I don’t need a day off. Do you even hear yourself? Sitting around doing nothing isn’t going to help anyone. Do you know how many grade one sorcerers and grade two sorcerers are going to be dealing with all the cases I don’t do? They need me out there, Yaga!" 

Your voice rises with every word, the sheer unfairness of the situation gnawing at your composure. But Yaga doesn’t budge. His dark eyes remain steady, rooted, as if absorbing your outburst without so much as a ripple.

"What they need right now," he replies evenly, determination heavy in his eyes. "is a sorcerer who can stay on their feet. You’re overworked, and you know it. I’ve let it slide long enough, but this stops here."

"You don’t get it—" you start, but he raises a hand, cutting you off mid-sentence.

"No, you don’t get it, do you?" he interrupts, his voice dropping into a firmer register that makes you flinch, just slightly. "I’ve seen too many sorcerers burn themselves out thinking they can handle everything. They push and push, and then one day, they can’t anymore. I’m not about to let you be one of them."

You shake your head vehemently. "I’m not like the others. I can handle this. I have been handling this!"

"And that’s exactly why you need to stop right now." he counters, leaning forward slightly, his tone softening just a fraction. "You may not want to hear this, but you’re not invincible. Everyone has a limit, and you’re closer to yours than you think. Take a step back before it’s too late."

You glare at him, desperation bubbling up alongside your anger. You refuse to accept this—there has to be another way. "Gakuganji would give me the mission, you know?" you mutter, your voice sharp and petulant.

Yaga snorts, his lips twitching in what might have been amusement if the situation weren’t so serious. "I’m not Gakuganji." he says bluntly. "And thank the gods for that."

His words strike a nerve, and you spin around to face him fully, your fists clenched at your sides. "Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to support us—support me! How am I supposed to just sit around and do nothing while curses are out there hurting people?"

"Because I care about you." Yaga replies simply. His gaze softens slightly, but the steel in his voice remains. "And whether you believe it or not, I care about you. You may not understand that, I know. But you can’t destroy yourself like this. You’re a good sorcerer, but you need to learn to take care of yourself first.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and unrelenting. You look away, your jaw tight, frustration still burning in your chest. But there’s no arguing with him now. His mind is made up, and deep down, you know he’s right. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“And I imagine that you’re father would want—”

"Fine, fine." you mutter begrudgingly, stuffing your hands into your pockets. "But don’t come crying to me when someone screws up the mission I could’ve handled."

Yaga exhales through his nose, a sound that’s almost—but not quite—a laugh. "I’ll take my chances with that gamble." he says, turning back to the stack of paperwork on his desk.

As you storm out of his office, shaking your head in disappointment, you could only find yourself in the silence. You couldn’t help but slam the door as hard as you could behind you, summarizing his parting words linger in your mind: Take the time off. That’s an order.

And for the first time in a long while, you’re left with nothing to do but obey. You cursed under your breath, looking at the sunset filled sky. You hated this. Now you’ll be stuck remembering those bright beaming fireworks, those annoyingly loud sing along carols and most of all, the falling snow as she said goodbye.

══════════════════

OF COURSE, YOU HAVEN’T CALMED DOWN. But there was nothing you could do about it. You had to start thinking about something to do. Or maybe try to argue about this.

You haven’t really thought about it concretely yet. But you had to do something, you just had to. A soft sigh left your lips. You really should have brought cigarettes with you.

The vending machine hums softly as you press the button, a can of something fizzy clattering into the slot below. You grab it, sit down heavily on the nearby bench, and crack it open with a sigh.

The sunset paints the sky in hues of orange and purple, but it does little to brighten your mood. You’re sulking, and you know it, but right now, you don’t care.

All of the known Kyoto missions you had your eye on—all of them—had been reassigned. Even the dangerous ones, the ones you knew you could handle. And what stings the most? Even the Special Grade missions had gone to others, like they were prizes you weren’t worthy of claiming or having whatsoever. 

You know you shouldn’t sulk but you couldn’t help it. Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, of course, had gotten their fair share. And they deserve it. They get the job done well enough, for second years. It’s not that you didn’t think they deserved it. They do.

But you were their senior. And you were older. Aren’t you supposed to be doing more, so they won’t have to? You had more experience than them in this field. You were a special grade sorcerer too. Why did you have to be treated differently than them? Weren’t you doing so well? Weren’t you enough?

You liked working, it’s why you haven’t stopped since you were younger. But you also don’t want to think about what the winter holidays were going to be like. You don’t want it to be stagnant. You don’t want to sit around and think. You don’t. You don’t even want to think about the prospect of having to go back to Zenin Manor for the holidays. 

If your schedule isn’t full, that old geezer is going to force you to attend the banquet. You wouldn't have an excuse. And knowing that, they’ll end up forcing you into a man and you don’t want to get married. Not just yet. You don’t want to end up marrying this winter. You bit your lip shakily in anger. 

“Ugh, why did this have to happen right now?” You whisper to yourself, kicking the stone wall. “This is so stupid!”

“Hey, senpai! Don’t kick the stone wall like that. It did nothing to you.”

You stopped, feeling your eyes narrow. The crunch of footsteps on gravel catches your attention as much as the voice did.  You glance up to see none other than the pair themselves. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru were going towards you, strolling back into campus.

They’re still in their mission gear, looking far too relaxed for two people who’ve just returned from exorcising curses. Geto has a quiet, composed expression as usual, his long hair tied neatly back. Gojo, on the other hand, is grinning like he’s just been handed the keys to the world.

The moment Gojo Satoru spots you even closer, his grin widens. Your eyes narrow enough at him that it looks like you were glaring at him. You were still too sulky. And now that you were running out of sugar, you were getting cranky too. You ought to drink your drink soon.

"Well, well, well, Suguru." Satoru says, nudging Suguru with his elbow and wearing that ever-present smirk. "Look who we have here, moping by the vending machines. Did Yaga–sensei finally ban you from missions, senpai?"

You glare at him over the rim of your can, letting the cold metal press against your lips but refusing to dignify his teasing with a response. The hiss of carbonation cuts through the silence as you crack open the soda with a force that sends foam fizzing up brutishly.

Satoru blinks at you, then shifts his gaze to Suguru, who seems to pick up on the same thing. A rare flicker of actual concern crosses his face.

“Wait, are you actually serious, senpai?” Gojo’s voice loses some of its usual playfulness. “Did he really?”

Suguru sighs, glancing at you with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. “Hey, don’t be too insensitive. Senpai looks upset.”

Satoru tilts his head, still watching you carefully. For a moment, there’s no teasing, just quiet curiosity, as if he’s waiting for you to break the silence and explain. But you didn’t speak just yet. Instead, you opted to drink the carbonated drink for a little bit. They just let you drink it and watched as you put it down. 

Suguru, ever the perceptive one, raises an eyebrow as he approaches. "Something wrong, senpai?" His tone is even, but there’s a flicker of genuine concern in his gaze.

"Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry about me." you mutter, though the tension in your voice betrays your words. 

You take a long sip of your drink, letting the fizzy sweetness settle on your tongue before sighing and lowering yourself onto one of the cold metal benches. The bench creaks slightly under your weight, the chill biting through your clothes, but you barely register it.

"Just... no missions for me for a while." you say, the words coming out slower this time, like you’re forcing yourself to say them. "Yaga’s decided I need to take a break for the winter." You pause, glancing down at the soda can in your hands, the logo on it blurry from condensation.

"He didn’t even ask me about it. That’s what I feel bitter about." you continue, a wry, humorless smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "He filed a leave on my behalf with the higher-ups. Said it was for my own good. And... well, it’s been accepted."

You huff out a short laugh, but it’s devoid of mirth. "Can you believe that? A forced vacation. Like I’m some kind of liability."

The words linger in the crisp air, heavy and bitter. For a moment, neither Satoru nor Suguru speaks, their usual banter replaced with an uneasy silence. Even Satoru’s trademark smirk falters slightly, his bright eyes narrowing in rare seriousness as he processes what you just said. Suguru crosses his arms, his expression softening as he looks at you.

"That... doesn’t sound like Yaga–sensei at all." Suguru says quietly, his tone laced with concern. "There’s gotta be more to it than that."

Satoru tilts his head, studying you carefully. "He’s probably just worried about you, senpai. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately."

You shrug, unwilling to acknowledge their words. Instead, you take another sip of your drink, letting the cold fizz distract you from the frustration simmering in your chest. “I suppose. But I would have liked to have a conversation about that. Maybe I’ll consider it.”

Liar. You thought to yourself for a moment. You never would have considered it. That’s why you take breaks, you foolish liar.

Suguru takes a seat on your other side, his presence calm and steady, like an anchor in the swirling storm of your thoughts. "He’s probably just looking out for you, senpai. Yaga-sensei’s strict about things, sure. But he’s not unfair. Maybe he’s seen something we haven’t."

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck as frustration ripples through you. "I don’t think I stick around long enough for him to notice anything about me."

"It’s probably because you’re always out in the field, senpai." Satoru chimes in, his voice lighter now as he presses a button on the vending machine with exaggerated care. "I think he notices that."

The quiet sincerity in his words catches you off guard, and for a moment, you blink at him, then at the can in your hand. "Possibly." you murmur, though your tone is uncertain.

Suguru smiles gently, a knowing look in his eyes. "Still, I get it. Sitting out isn’t easy when you’re used to being in the thick of it all the time, senpai."

You nod slowly, letting his words sink in. "It’s not just that." you admit, the bitterness in your voice softening. "It’s like... if I’m not out there, if I’m not doing something, I don’t know what to do with myself. It feels... wrong, like I’m slacking off or abandoning my responsibilities."

And I don’t wanna think about her. You want to say. I don’t want to go home either. I don’t want to suffer being alone.

Satoru pops open his own drink, taking a swig before glancing back at you. "That’s not slacking, senpai." he says, his tone uncharacteristically even. "Taking a break isn’t quitting. Yaga–sensei wouldn’t do this if he didn’t think it was important."

Suguru nods in agreement. "He’s not punishing you. He’s trying to make sure you’re okay. Sometimes, even the strongest of us need to step back and breathe for a bit."

Their words hang in the air, soft but unwavering, and for the first time in a while, you feel the tight knot of frustration in your chest begin to loosen—just a little. You sigh, slumping further down on the bench. You groaned.

"Kyoto missions are being handed out like candy. Even the Special Grade ones! And guess who’s getting them? The two of you."

Suguru snickered. “I doubt that it’s something enjoyable as eating candy, senpai.”

"Meanwhile, I’m stuck here with nothing to do but wait." You were pouting at this point.

Satoru snickers, leaning back. "Jealous, are we? Don’t worry, senpai.  I’ll bring you a souvenir from my next mission. Maybe a curse sword or something. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’s about to be Christmas anyway—"

"Satoru." Suguru says warningly, giving him a pointed look.

"What?" Satoru shrugs, still grinning as he holds his drink close. "I’m just trying to cheer senpai up, Satoru."

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I don’t need cheering up. I need to be useful."

Suguru leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now. "You are useful. Missions come and go, but pushing yourself too hard won’t make things better. Yaga–sensei’s just giving you some breathing room. It doesn’t mean you’re being left behind."

"Yeah, senpai." Satoru chimes in, his tone surprisingly genuine this time. "Don’t take it too personally. Even I need a break sometimes. Well, not really, but you get the idea."

You glance between them, your frustration still simmering, but their words start to sink in, just a little. Maybe they’re right—maybe this isn’t the end of the world. But for now, you still can’t shake the sting of being benched. You shake your head.

"Whatever." you mutter, taking another sip of your drink. "Just don’t rub it in."

Satoru smirks, nudging your shoulder. "No promises."

Suguru sighs, shaking his head. "Let’s just get you off this bench before you start growing roots. Come on—we’ll grab some food. Satoru’s treat."

You raised a brow as you looked at Satoru. “Oh? You’re opening your wallet?”

“If that would make our amazing beloved senpai stop sulking, the Gojo Satoru infinite wallet will appear.” Satoru says, pulling out his wallet with a maniacal laugh. “You can order as much as you can, senpai. I’ll pay for it. Just smile, okay?”

You looked at him for a moment before you ended up laughing. You finally nodded at them. Satoru pumps his arm out as he says yes. Suguru shakes his head at Satoru’s antics, but smiles. Reluctantly, you let them pull you to your feet. Maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem. Maybe.

Before long, the three of you walk toward a nearby ramen restaurant, the sounds of crickets beginning to fill the evening air. Satoru stretches his arms lazily behind his head, his glasses pushed up just enough to reveal the playful glint in his eyes. Suguru walks beside you, his steady presence a contrast to Satoru’s boundless energy.

“Where’s Shoko?” You asked, turning to Suguru. “I thought she would be with you two.”

“She’s stuck with the Reversed Curse Technique sensei.” Suguru says, his hands resting in his pockets. “Apparently she couldn’t get it right on a leg, so the sensei’s making her do it again.”

“Huh, I would have thought she would have gotten it right by now.” You furrowed your brows. “I sent her the scrolls on it.”

“Probably just some sensei trying to make it harder on Sho.” Satoru says, looking at you. “I mean, wasn’t it that way with our hand to hand combat sensei last year?”

“I didn’t like that guy.” Suguru admitted, shaking his head. “He wasn’t at all considerate of Shoko and made her suffer.”

“If he wasn’t a vassal of the Zenin, he wouldn’t have a job here anymore.” You retorted to the two of them. “He was also bad when he taught us.”

Suguru looked at you. “Hehhhh, so he taught you too, senpai.”

“Well, yes. But we didn’t learn much from him.”

"So, senpai." Satoru says, breaking the conversation away. "If you're not doing missions, what are you doing? Sitting around moping by vending machines? Because, honestly, it’s not a great look for you."

You roll your eyes back at him. "I’ll be training. I’ll be visiting my mother at her shrine. I need to  keep my edge. And I don’t want to be stuck at home. What’s the point if I’m not putting it to use? It’s not like curses are going to exorcise themselves."

Suguru hums thoughtfully. "Training’s not a bad way to spend your time. Besides, if Yaga–sensei’s forcing you to take a break, you might as well use it to focus on something else. A new technique, maybe. You’ve been talking about improving your cursed energy output, haven’t you, senpai?"

You glance at him, surprised he remembered. "Yeah, I guess. Still doesn’t feel the same without the real stakes."

Satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "You’ve gotta chill, you know? Not every second of your life has to be spent on the front lines. Take a page from my book, senpai! Go and live a little! Relax, enjoy the quiet moments. You can’t win all the glory if you’re burned out."

"Easy for you to say." you grumble, shrugging off his arm. "Everyone’s different, you know that?”

Satoru’s grin falters for just a second, so brief you almost miss it. But he recovers it almost as soon as it happens. You blinked at that. "Sure." he says, his voice lighter than it was a moment ago. "But even I have to deal with Yaga–sensei breathing down my neck sometimes. Guy acts like I’m gonna self-destruct or something."

"Wonder why." Suguru mutters under his breath, earning a snicker from you.

By the time you reach the ramen restaurant, your mood has lightened, if only slightly. The warm glow of the lights and the faint smell of food wafting through the air feel comforting, a small reminder that life isn’t all missions and curses. 

Satoru insists on ordering for everyone which  was much to your dismay because he wanted to choose the desserts menu first, while Suguru sits across from you, watching him with a faintly amused expression.

"You know, senpai." Suguru says as Satoru bounds off toward the counter. "He’s not entirely wrong. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. Least of all us kouhai. You’ve done more than enough between us combined. You deserve some rest too."

"That’s not what this is about, though." you say, picking at the edge of the table. "It’s just… I hate feeling useless. And I hate not doing anything too. It’s like I’m sitting on the sidelines while everyone else is out there making a difference, doing something."

Suguru leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "No one thinks you’re useless. You’re one of the strongest sorcerers here, senpai. Don’t let a temporary setback make you forget that. Yaga–sensei’s decision isn’t a punishment; it’s a reminder to pace yourself. You’ll be back out there soon enough."

Before you can respond, Satoru reappears, balancing a heavy tray full of abundant food with one hand like it’s a prize. You blinked as two other staff followed behind him, carrying just as heavy of a load on the trays they were holding. 

"Alright, feast time! And guess what—I got you your favorite." He sets the tray down with a flourish, smirking when you reluctantly take the plate he hands you.

"Thanks, Satoru." you mumble, trying not to sound too grateful.

As the three of you dig into your food, the conversation shifts to lighter topics—Satoru’s  latest antics, Suguru’s commentary on his poor decision-making, and a few inside jokes that make you laugh despite yourself. For a little while, you forget about the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Maybe Suguru’s right about this. Maybe this isn’t the end of the world. It’s just one time. You were sure that it would go by just as fast as it happened. You take a sip of your soup, trying to enjoy the warmth it pools on your mouth. 

And as Satoru leans back in his chair, telling some exaggerated story about a curse he fought, and Suguru trying to correct him about the facts, you couldn’t help but smile at them.

They’ll probably do fine with your missions. Everything will be fine. And so, now, ever so slowly, you think that maybe, just maybe, this break won’t be so bad after all.

══════════════════

YOU BEGGED GAKUGANJI TO LIE TO THE ZENIN. You received the message to come back home a few days ago, the annual winter banquet looming over you like a heavy cloud. The thought of returning made your stomach churn.

You didn’t want to deal with Naoya’s smug, incessant taunts, nor your uncles’ cold glares, each one assessing you like a potential threat or disappointment.

And you certainly didn’t want to endure your drunken grandfather pushing every eligible man in the clan in your direction, urging you to “secure the Zenin legacy.”

At least Gakuganji had relented this time after you wore him down with incessant pleas to be excused from the banquet. He had sighed heavily, grumbled about your stubbornness, and waved you off with a reluctant nod. That victory, however small, was bittersweet.

In the same breath, you decided not to visit your mother for the rest of December either. Word traveled fast, and if the Zenin found out where you were, they’d harass her endlessly until she felt cornered, forced to surrender you back to their grasp. You couldn’t let that happen. Protecting her from their influence was one of the few things you could still control.

So, you opted to stay in your own house. Alone. Indefinitely.

At first, the solitude was welcome, a reprieve from the expectations and judgment that seemed to follow you everywhere. But the days off began to pile up like a slow-moving curse, each one heavier and more suffocating than the last. The stillness clung to you, creeping under your skin.

And that craving to work, to go out and seek danger. To seek out curses. You could feel each and every one of them. There’s one from your apartment block, from a building growing bigger and bigger.

There’s another just a few miles away, eating away the anguish of humanity. But you know you can’t do much about it. Not when they would know your cursed energy. They would recognize it. That would ensure Yaga will hear about it. He would annoy you even more. And you don’t want that.

But just as much, you don’t want a break. You want to work. You need to work. The idle hours claw at you, dragging you into places you’ve been avoiding for too long. You like the chaos of missions—the distractions, the sense of purpose, the way they keep your mind too busy to wander.

Without the missions, the silence becomes unbearable. And in that silence, the nightmares return.

You see her smile again. That sick twisted, stupid smile that lingers in the dark corners of your mind. It’s the kind of smile that hides something cruel, something broken. You can almost hear the fireworks bursting overhead, bright and loud, masking the screams. 

The harmony of Christmas carols drifts faintly in the background, a jarring contrast to the chaos. Her voice echoes in your ears, sharp and cutting. Your body was shaking, but not of the cold. But shock. You were too shocked to even move as you watched her turn her back.

“What the fuck are you saying?” You asked her, your purple eyes turning watery. “You’re leaving me?”

"I don’t need you anymore." she had said, her words like shards of glass. "And you don’t need me anymore. So, let’s end it here, hm?”

Kaiko broke up with you that day.

And then she massacred hundreds.

The images come rushing back in vivid, relentless clarity: the blood, the chaos, the twisted wreckage of everything you thought you understood. You can’t stop replaying it—the devastation, the betrayal, the weight of what she had become.

You don’t want to face it. You don’t want to deal with that Christmas day again.

But in the silence, it finds you. It always finds you.

Tears started to fall from your eyes again.

“I hate this, I hate this too much.”

══════════════════

THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU’VE HAD ENOUGH SLEEP. But it wasn’t what you wanted. You always don’t sleep, you don’t want to sleep enough. Because you knew where it would lead. And you don’t want to end up there. Yet that’s where you ended up.

You wake up drenched in sweat most nights, the images from your dreams burned into your mind. No, not dreams. No no, they’re memories. You see them as clearly as the day they happened. You could feel your breath hitch over and over again, not believing you’d ever see it again. Not like this.

Namie. Her smile, her laugh, the way she’d always known just the right thing to say to pull you out of your moods. You see her standing there, in the middle of that cursed battlefield, her eyes wide with fear as she turns to you—too late. 

The curse’s claws tear through her chest before you can move, before you can scream. Blood sprays, her body crumples, and you’re left standing in the aftermath, paralyzed by your failure. You tell yourself it wasn’t your fault, but the words feel hollow. You were supposed to protect her. You were right there, and you couldn’t save her.

Then comes Kaiko. The guilt tastes different with her, but no less bitter. You see her face, contorted in anger and betrayal, hear her voice, venomous and raw, shouting your name as she lunges at you.

You remember the way her cursed energy crackled in the air, the sharp clash of your techniques, the moment her attack faltered and you struck back without hesitation.

She falls, her body collapsing in slow motion. Blood pools beneath her, a stark contrast to the pale, shocked expression on her face. She hadn’t thought you’d do it. You hadn’t thought you’d do it either.

But you did. The scene plays on repeat in your head every night. Namie died because you weren’t fast enough. Kaiko died because you were too fast. Over and over and over.

You sit on your bed, staring at your shaking hands. You tell yourself you’re strong. A sorcerer. Someone who can endure anything. But the truth is harder to swallow: you can’t handle being still. Because when you stop moving, the memories catch up to you..

Namie. Kaiko. The weight of their deaths pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You glance at the calendar on your wall, the faint tick of the clock echoing in the stillness. Red lines mark the days since your last mission, stretching across the grid like tally marks on a prisoner’s wall. The numbers blur together, each one a reminder of time slipping by without purpose. It feels like an eternity.

And with each passing day, the nightmares grow louder, clawing their way into your thoughts. The stillness that was supposed to heal you now feels suffocating, like a weight pressing on your chest. You begin to wonder if this break—this rest—isn’t meant to fix you at all. Maybe it’s the thing that will finally break you.

The days drag on, stretching endlessly, and your attempts to find relief grow more desperate. You try everything—everything—to distract yourself, to fill the void the missions once occupied.

You pick up a book, hoping to lose yourself in its pages, but the words slip through your mind like water through a sieve. You read the same sentence five times before giving up, the book tossed aside onto a growing pile of failed attempts.

You wander aimlessly around town, hands shoved deep into your pockets as you roam familiar streets with no destination in mind. But the noise of the city only irritates you, and the fleeting glimpses of laughter and holiday cheer feel like a cruel mockery.

You even try your hand at hobbies you’d long since abandoned—sketching, fixing the old record player collecting dust in the corner, even cooking—but nothing clicks. Each attempt feels hollow, like going through the motions of someone else’s life.

Nothing works.

The memories are relentless, clawing at the edges of your mind, refusing to be silenced. Kaiko’s smile haunts you. The fireworks, the screams, the carols—they play on a loop in your head, a cruel symphony of the past.

And the quiet of your apartment feels like a prison. The walls seem to close in on you, pressing closer with each passing hour. The silence stretched taut, oppressive, and the ticking clock became even more  unbearable.

You sit on the couch, head in your hands, the can of soda long forgotten on the table. "This isn't a rest. This is torture." you mutter to yourself, your voice hoarse in the stillness. "This isn’t peace. This is—"

You stop, unable to put words to the feeling, but the emptiness swallows you whole. The weight of it presses down on you, suffocating, as if the very air around you thickens, making it harder to breathe. Your thoughts race in circles, but nothing makes sense. You try to ground yourself, to focus on something, anything, but the more you try, the more you slip away from it all.

Tears fall, heavy and relentless, as if they were always there, waiting for the moment when the dam would finally crack. You rock yourself gently in your arms, the motion a desperate attempt to comfort yourself, to find some semblance of control. But it doesn’t help. Nothing helps.

The room around you seems to close in, the walls pressing in from all sides. The silence, the stillness, it all becomes too much. The space feels claustrophobic now, oppressive, like the walls are suffocating you. You can’t escape it. You can’t escape yourself.

Each breath comes in ragged gasps, as if you’re trying to hold onto something, anything, to stop the flood of memories, the flood of pain. The darkness that has always been there, lurking at the edges, now seems to take shape, swirling around you like a living thing, creeping up your spine, curling its fingers around your throat.

The nightmares that have only been whispers in the background are no longer just in your sleep. They are here, in your apartment, in the silence. They’re alive, moving through every corner of your mind and your space.

Your sobs echo in the emptiness, the only sound in the room, and for a moment, you wonder if this is it—if this is all there is. If the endless cycle of pain, of isolation, is what’s meant for you. You wonder if you’ll ever find a way out, if the break, this supposed reprieve, will ever end.

But all you feel is the suffocating silence. The crushing weight of memories that won’t let you go. The cruel reminder that no matter how far you run, you can’t escape what’s inside you.

One cold winter evening, as the sky outside turns a bruised shade of purple, you sit on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. A sitcom plays, its canned laughter grating against the silence of the room. You’re not even paying attention to the plot; it’s just noise, something to drown out your thoughts.

Then, the doorbell rings.

You freeze. No one ever comes to your place unannounced. Hell, hardly anyone knows where you live. For a moment, you wonder if you imagined it. But then it rings again, louder this time. Dragging yourself off the couch, you shuffle to the door, your brows furrowing in confusion. Peering through the peephole, your confusion only deepens.

There, on your doorstep, stands those three.

Gojo Satoru was smiling at you so brightly.

Geto Suguru greets you warmly and kindly.

Ieiri Shoko waves at you, a cigarette on her lips.

You couldn’t help as you stood there in your Sanrio pajamas,  blinking at them like they’ve just stepped out of one of your nightmares—or maybe one of your better dreams. The cold winter air brushes inside as you stand there utterly frozen. 

“Senpaiiiii, it’s cold!” Satoru snapped you out of it. “Please let us in already!”

“Cry baby.” Shoko snickered, looking at her friend. “Who told you to not put a winter coat on?”

“I didn’t know it would be this cold, Sho! Let me live!”

Suguru sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about this, senpai.”

"What are you three doing here?" you ask, your voice hoarse from disuse.

Satoru turns to you with a grin, his usual cocky demeanor firmly in place. He was cold, but he was going to smile at you regardless. He likes doing that for you, after all. He’s carrying a bag in one hand and waving with the other. 

"Nice place you’ve got here! We thought it was time for a little intervention. And talk about the heating system! Wow, really, if you just let us in—"

Your confusion deepens. "How do you even know where I live?"

"Yaga–sensei." Shoko says simply, lighting a cigarette as she steps past you into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. "He was worried about you, so he gave us your address."

You move to the side, giving enough space for Satoru to come in. Suguru could only shake his head as he asked if he could come in. You finally nodded. Shoko followed him inside, muttering a word of thanks. 

You glance back at Satoru, who’s already making himself at home, plopping onto your couch like he owns the place. He sets the bag down on the coffee table with a flourish. He takes the warmth of the room in with pleasure.

"And you’re welcome, by the way, senpai." he adds, shooting you a wink. "We brought snacks. And movies. And me, the best part of this little party."

Suguru, who’s been leaning casually against the doorframe, finally steps inside, his hands tucked into his pockets. "Yaga–sensei may have told us to go. But we figured you’d be holed up in here, overthinking everything like you always do. So we came to drag you out of your head for a while, if that’s alright with you.”

“I guess.” You blink at them, still processing their sudden appearance. "But I don’t need an intervention. I’m fine, you know?" you mumble, folding your arms defensively. 

Shoko snorts, exhaling a cloud of smoke from her cigarette. "Yeah, you look real fine, senpai." she says, gesturing vaguely at your pajamas, disheveled appearance and the mess in your living room. "When was the last time you left this place, senpai?"

You frowned at her, but before you could reply, Satoru interrupted her, waving her off. "Don’t worry about all that, senpai." he says, reaching into the bag and pulling out a container of something that smells suspiciously like takeout. 

"Tonight, we’re here to chill. No missions, no training, no brooding in the dark. Just us. And maybe a bad horror movie, if Suguru doesn’t complain too much."

"I always complain about your movie choices, Satoru." Geto mutters, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips. “They’re always so questionable!”

For a moment, you consider kicking them out. You don’t want to be seen like this whatsoever. messy, vulnerable, barely holding it together. But then you catch the genuine concern in their eyes, hidden behind Satoru’s little jokes, Shoko’s eager bluntness, and Suguru's tender composure. They came here because they care, when they didn’t have to. 

And maybe—just maybe—you need this.

"Fine, fine." you mutter, stepping aside to let them fully invade your space. "But if Satoru picks something stupid, I’m kicking all of you out."

"Deal, senpai!" Gojo says cheerfully, already rifling through your meager DVD collection. "This is gonna be great. You’ll see."

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel something other than the suffocating weight of your memories. It’s small, fleeting. But it’s there. It was there and it was there to stay.  A spark of something warmer, lighter. Maybe, with them here, you won’t have to face it all alone.

As the night goes on, your small apartment feels strangely livelier than it has been in the past few weeks. The place, once a sanctuary of silence and isolation, has been overtaken by a chaotic kind of energy that feels foreign—and a little unsettling.

The three musketeers, Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru, have sprawled out in your living room like they own the place. Once the movie ended, Satoru wasted no time grabbing the remote and flipping through your TV channels with all the grace and decorum of a toddler on a sugar rush. 

The sound of random commercials and sitcoms blaring in the background mixes with the clinking of ice cubes as Shoko leans back on your armchair, casually sipping a drink she definitely helped herself to from your fridge.

Suguru, meanwhile, has settled himself on the floor, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he watches it all unfold. He’s got that look, the one that says he’s aware of exactly what’s going on but finds it too entertaining to intervene.

"Did you really just switch to a cooking show, Satoru?" you ask, eyes narrowing in disbelief as you watch him channel-surf with zero sense of restraint.

"Yeah, I did, senpai." Satoru replies nonchalantly, glancing over at you with a grin. "What’s wrong with a little food porn? I’m trying to get inspired for the next big mission meal. I’ll make you a five-star ramen that’ll blow your mind."

You raise an eyebrow. "You? Cook? The same guy who couldn’t even make instant ramen noodles without setting off the smoke alarm?"

"That was one time, senpai!" Satoru protests, flicking the remote like he’s offended. "Besides, ramen's on a different level. You can’t just learn that, it’s an art form."

Shoko, from her spot on the armchair, rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her drink. "If by art form you mean you’ll burn water if left alone for two minutes then sure, go for it."

You sigh, rubbing your temples as the low hum of Satoru’s TV-flipping blends with Shoko’s quiet snark. Suguru’s chuckle is the only thing that cuts through the noise, and you glance at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You’re not helping, Suguru." you mutter back at him. “Honestly when you find yourself loosening up, you end up becoming a menace to me too.

Suguru just shrugs and smiles at you.. "Just enjoying the show, senpai." he says with that faint amusement still in his voice.

And then, as if the universe is trying to throw salt on your wounds, you glance at the time. Your stomach sinks, and the thought hits you like a freight train. They’re planning to stay the night, aren’t they?

“”Don’t tell me you didn’t have accommodations ready?” You direct the question to no one in particular.

But it’s clear from the smug glint in Satoru’s cerulean eyes that he knows exactly what’s coming. He’s like a kid who’s already picked out his spot on the couch for a sleepover. Shoko doesn’t even look at you as she casually lifts her glass at you.

"Yeah, pretty sure we’re all crashing here tonight. Hope that’s okay, senpai." she says, the words dripping with sarcasm.

"Didn’t even ask, huh?" you mutter under your breath, but there’s no real point in protesting.

Suguru gives you an almost apologetic look, though his smirk is still firmly in place. "You’re stuck with us, senpai. Might as well get comfy."

"Great, just great." you deadpan. "A full house. Just what I needed."

Satoru immediately perks up, sitting cross-legged on your couch like an overgrown child. "What are you talking about, senpai?" he says, his grin wide and unabashed. "You’ve got so much space in the living room! Look at this—practically a luxury penthouse." He gestures dramatically at the modest area, clearly exaggerating.

You narrow your eyes at him. "It’s not a penthouse. And what does it matter? You’re not staying."

He leans back against the couch, arms spread wide. "But I’ve never had a sleepover before," he says, with the kind of mock-innocence you know is meant to guilt-trip you. "C’mon, don’t ruin my first one."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you blink at him, surprised. "Never?"

Satoru shakes his head, that grin of his still firmly in place. "Never. Clan rules, remember? Strict schedules, separate quarters, all that fun stuff."

Something in your chest twists at that. You think of your own childhood, so eerily similar. "Neither have I." you admit quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Suguru, who’s been observing the exchange with his usual calm, suddenly blinks in surprise. He looks between the two of you, and a flicker of understanding crosses his face. You sighed, crossing your arms at him.

"That’s right." he murmurs, almost to himself. "I forgot you guys didn’t grow up outside of clan culture."

The room falls into a brief, thoughtful silence. Shoko, for once, doesn’t break it with a sarcastic remark. Instead, she just takes another sip from her drink, watching the three of you with an unreadable expression. You shake your head at the situation at hand.

"Well…." Satoru says finally, his tone lighter, though his grin softens into something almost genuine. "There’s a first time for everything, right? And tonight’s as good a time as any. You’ve got your first sleepover buddies right here!"

You shake your head, exasperated. "You’re impossible."

"Yeah, but you like me anyway," Satoru couldn’t help but quip, winking.

Suguru sighs, shaking his head as he leans back against the wall. "He’s not wrong about space, though. We could manage, senpai."

"And mind you, senpai, you are outnumbered." Shoko adds lazily, her voice tinged with amusement. “Three to one is an ultimate defeat.”

You glance around your small living room, taking in the ridiculousness of the situation. There’s no way they’re going to leave. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you doesn’t want them to. You took a moment and then breathed deeply. You finally nodded.

"Fine, fine." you grumble back at them. "But if any of you snore, you’re out the door."

Satoru cheers like he’s just won a grand prize, while Suguru chuckles softly. Shoko smirks, flicking ash from her cigarette. As they start debating who gets the couch versus the floor, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of warmth settle in your chest. It’s new, unfamiliar—but not entirely unwelcome.

Satoru, flipping the remote like he’s discovered a new channel once again, grins even wider. "Trust me, senpai! You’ll not regret this in the morning. You’ve been moping around here for weeks. We’re here to enlighten you with our brilliant company."

Shoko chimes in, raising her glass in a mock toast. "To brilliant company."

Suguru chuckles. "It’s a rough job, but someone’s gotta do it."

“You three are just…” You smiled at them. “Head to sleep already.”\

Satoru was right in the end, as he always was.

You didn’t regret it one bit, the next day.

If anything, you still held this memory close to your heart.

══════════════════

YOU HAD GOTTEN ENOUGH SLEEP. But not enough, like before. And you were glad about it. The faint winter morning light filters gently through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. You stir slightly, still caught in the fog of sleep, your body reluctant to leave the warmth of your blankets as you sprawled onto the soft feather stuffed pillows. 

They had managed to rope you to sleep with them in the living room, almost truly like a sleep over, even when you wanted to sleep in your room. You had refused numerous times, but they kept going and asking. They weren’t giving up, so you had to defeat them in a coin toss. And they won. Hence, why you were here.

The quiet of the early morning lingers around you, comforting in its stillness, as the world outside remains frozen under a blanket of snow. It seemed like a good day to just laze around all morning. But just as you start to drift back into the comforting haze of sleep, the peace is shattered. An unmistakable voice, loud and intrusive, cuts through the silence like a knife.

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" Satoru’s overly cheerful tone cuts through the quiet, followed by the sound of him banging a pan with a spoon. "Come on! Up, up, up! We’ve got plans!"

You groan, rolling over and pulling your blanket over your head. "What now, Satoru?" you mutter. “It’s too early.”

From the couch, Suguru grumbles something incoherent, his voice muffled by a pillow. Shoko, sprawled on the floor with a blanket half-draped over her, opens one eye, her expression murderous. 

"Satoru, you idiot." she growls, her voice rough with sleep. "It’s too early for your nonsense. Shut up and let us sleep."

"But it’s not nonsense!" Satoru protests, his voice rising an octave in indignation. "You’ll never believe what I found out!" 

He marches over to the window, dramatically pulling back the curtains and flooding the room with sunlight. You groan at the light, your eyes snapping open. It’s not even that early, well at least not to Gojo Satoru. 

But to you and the other two, it was still pretty early enough to be annoyed. The sun was still up, brighter than you all wanted. You rub your eyes, squinting at the sun. Shoko however did not fare better, and nor did Suguru.

"Ow, my eyes!" Shoko snaps, covering her face with her blanket. “Satoru, you fucker!”

Suguru throws a pillow at Satoru, who dodges it effortlessly. "Whatever it is, Satoru, it can all wait." Suguru says, his voice thick with irritation. "I’m serious, Satoru. Some of us value our sleep."

"No, it can’t wait!" Satoru announces, grinning like a child on Christmas morning. "I found out we’re right near a theme park! Like, walking distance. We have to go!"

Both Shoko and Suguru groan in unison, their reactions almost synchronized. It’s like they’ve done this a thousand times before, and honestly, they probably have. You can see the shared look of exasperation pass between them, as if they’ve collectively accepted that nothing in their lives is ever going to be normal with Satoru around.

"You woke us up for that?" Shoko asks, glaring at him.

"It’s way too early for a theme park, Satoru." Suguru adds, rubbing his temple. "They’re not even open yet."

"But they will be, Suguru!" Satoru says, crossing his arms and pouting like a kid denied candy. "Come on, what’s wrong with you guys? Where’s your sense of adventure?"

"It’s still asleep, out of the jurisdiction, out of sight, out of mind." Shoko deadpans, rolling over.

Satoru dramatically huffs, throwing his arms in the air. "You’re all no fun!" 

Shoko rolls her eyes dramatically. "You really have no shame, do you, Satoru?" she mutters under her breath, clearly amused but trying to hide it. "What, is this what you do now? Drag people out of bed like some kind of high-energy nightmare?"

Suguru sighed, leaning against the pillow he was hugging. "I can’t believe you, Satoru. Do you ever just… let people live?"

“Meh, meh. Sorry, I don’t talk to not fun people.” He drops onto the edge of your side of the air mattress and smiles at you. "What about you, senpai? You’re cool, right? You’ll go with me!"

You sigh, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "If it’ll get you to stop acting like a five-year-old, then... sure. Why not?"

Satoru freezes, turning to look at you with wide, starry cerulean eyes. "Really?" he asks, his voice brimming with excitement.

You, now fully awake and regretting every decision that brought you to this point, look from one to the other, then back to Satoru. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, fine, you win. I’m up. Can you please just leave me with some shred of dignity before you turn my whole apartment into a circus?"

In an instant, Gojo Satoru scoots closer, practically glowing with abundant joy. He almost looked exactly like a puppy, happy about being given a treat for the first time. Oftentimes, you forget that he was also a clan kid like you, who never experienced these things as well as one regular person would. 

"You’re the best, senpai!" he says, his grin so dazzling it’s almost blinding. He leans in slightly, his face closer to yours than you expected, and the sudden proximity makes your heart skip a beat. “Ah, this is why you’re my favorite!”

You try to look away, feeling your entire face turn scarlet red. But his enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself smiling despite your embarrassment. You sighed at him, patting his shoulders. 

"Don’t make me regret this, Satoru." you mumble, your face warm. “We’re gonna have fun, but in a way we all would enjoy, okay?”

“Hm, as you say, senpai!” He replies, still heavily enthusiastic.

Suguru, still lying on the other side of the air mattress, lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Great. Now we’re all going, aren’t we?"

"Obviously, Suguboo!" Satoru replies, his grin widening as he hops off your side. "I mean, what’s a theme park trip without all my best friends?"

“Hey, don’t call me Suguboo.”

“But I don’t want to stop, Suguboo—” Suguru threw a pillow at him, hitting him on the face.

Shoko groans again, pulling her blanket over her head. "You owe me coffee for this, Satoru." she mutters. “I need a lot of it to get through the day.”

“The Gojo Satoru infinite wallet pouch is ready to serve you today!”

“It's better buy me the best of the best, Satoru.”

"Until then, let’s drink the one at home. So, I’ll go make coffee in the kitchen." you say with a sigh.

“Hm, thank you, senpai.” Shoko grumbles from her position.

You slowly stand up from your spot, every muscle protesting the movement as you stretch. You walk toward the kitchen, hoping the smell of freshly brewed coffee will help shake off the remnants of sleep clinging to you like a fog.

“Senpai—”

You don’t need to turn around to know it’s Satoru. You can hear the exaggerated whine in his voice before he even finishes the sentence.

“No, no, it’s fine.” you tell him, waving him off without looking back. “You guys are already causing enough chaos. Let me handle the coffee. I’ve got it.”

Gojo Satoru doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he pouts dramatically, his voice rising in that almost childlike plea that never fails to get under your skin. You could feel your eye twitch.

“But, senpai.” he whines again, his tone a mix of desperation and mock sadness. “You know I’m really bad at making coffee. Remember that one time I tried to brew it and we ended up with, like, coffee-flavored charcoal?”

You can’t help but snort, a small laugh escaping your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, I remember. I also remember you trying to make me some instant noodles, and I still haven’t forgiven you for that disaster.”

Satoru’s pout deepens, and he stares at you with those wide, blue eyes, his expression pleading like a lost puppy. “Senpai, please. I swear, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even throw in some cookies or something later. But just let me make the coffee, okay? I promise it’ll be good!”

You glance back at him over your shoulder, seeing his exaggerated frown, the way his lip quivers in mock sadness. He’s laying it on thick, but for some reason, it’s hard to keep a straight face. You shake your head. He’s such a child.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to burn down my kitchen, Satoru?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"That was one time!" he insists, dramatically throwing his arms up as though to plead his case. "One time, and I learned from my mistakes. I’m practically a professional now!" He gives a nod to himself as if he’s convinced of his own greatness.

You roll your purple eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. "Fine, fine." you relent, shaking your head in disbelief. "But if I end up with a cup of mud instead of coffee, you’re cleaning up the mess."

Satoru’s face lights up immediately, his eyes sparkling with what can only be described as pure glee. Ah, he can smile like that too, you think to yourself. “Deal! You won’t regret it, senpai, I promise!”

As you make your way toward the kitchen, you hear him behind you, his footsteps almost skipping with excitement. "You’ll see! This is going to be the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had! I’m practically a coffee connoisseur!"

You try to hide your smirk as you enter the kitchen, already bracing yourself for whatever absurdities Satoru is about to bring to the table. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Satoru.” you mutter under your breath.

Satoru pauses just before entering the kitchen, looking at you with mock seriousness. “Senpai, I’ve mastered the art of coffee. I’ve trained under the world’s finest baristas. You won’t even recognize the quality!”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from your chest. “Yeah, sure you have.”

Satoru steps into the kitchen with far too much confidence, already reaching for the coffee beans like he’s about to perform a magic trick. You know this is going to be interesting. You watch him closely. 

"This is gonna be amazing." he mutters to himself, as if trying to convince both of you.

You shake your head, standing back to watch the chaos unfold. Whatever happens next, you’re almost certain it’ll be more entertaining than your original plan of quietly making the coffee yourself.

As Gojo Satoru makes the coffee, he starts buzzing around and chattering about which rides to hit first, you can’t help but feel a little less annoyed about the early wake-up call. His excitement is ridiculous, sure—but it’s also kind of... endearing. 

Well, you’ve known that the moment you met him. But seeing it over and over again, it always made your heart ever warmer towards him. He’s different from every other clan folk you’ve met. And you were glad for that. You need more kind people in those spaces.

The soft morning haze still lingers, casting a gentle glow through the kitchen window as Satoru practically dances around your kitchen, his enthusiasm infectious but undeniably over-the-top. He’s already rattling off every possible ride and snack the theme park might offer, his words spilling out in rapid bursts like a hyperactive child who's had one too many sugar rushes.

"I swear, the rollercoaster is gonna be insane! I saw it on their website! And they’ve got this new cotton candy that’s like... blue and pink and it’s literally out of this world! Oh, and the haunted house? Don't even get me started. It's supposed to be the scariest thing ever! I’m telling you, we’re gonna have so much fun, senpai!” 

He continues talking for a little bit more, moving around the kitchen like a whirlwind, pulling out everything he needs with too much flair—coffee beans, a grinder, and what you can only assume is the most complicated brewing setup you’ve ever seen.

You stand by the counter, watching the chaos unfold with the kind of resigned amusement that only Satoru can provoke. You cross your arms and lean against the countertop. “Did you wake up on a sugar high, or is this your normal level of insane?”

Satoru spins around with a bright grin, his hair still slightly messy from sleep but somehow looking perfect in that way only he can manage. “Who needs sugar when life is this exciting? Also, if I don’t make this coffee, I’m pretty sure your day will be cursed, senpai. It’s like a public service.”

You can’t help but snort at his dramatic flair, though you can’t deny the faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Right. And I suppose the curse you’re talking about involves caffeine-fueled chaos?”

"Exactly!" Satoru says, as though it’s the most logical thing in the world. “I mean, what’s life without a little chaos? You need this, senpai.”

You can only shake your head as he starts brewing the coffee. The machine whirs to life with a hum that cuts through the air, and Satoru, ever the perfectionist (or at least pretending to be), stands over it like a chef preparing a Michelin-starred dish. His face is a study in concentration, except for the occasional exaggerated eyebrow raise as he checks to see if you're watching.

He adds the coffee grounds with a flourish, as if it’s some kind of secret recipe, and begins to press buttons and twist knobs, making it all seem far more complicated than it really is. He’s making it harder for himself.

"Don’t you think you're taking this a little too seriously?" you ask, still leaning against the counter. “It’s just coffee, not a rocket launch.”

Satoru doesn’t even glance at you as he nods, clearly in the zone. “Senpai, the key to a perfect cup of coffee is precision. It’s an art form. I’ve mastered the art of brewing.” He shoots you a look, clearly proud of himself. “You’ll see.”

As the scent of coffee starts to fill the room, you watch him continue to move around with far too much energy. His arms are wide, gesturing as though he’s explaining some life-changing revelation. “I’m telling you, the theme park’s going to be insane. They’re bringing in a whole new section for kids! You know what that means? More rides for us!”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no denying how contagious his energy is, even if it’s borderline exhausting. “Right, because you’re so mature.” you tease, though you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “How does that even make sense? You’re literally going on rides for children.”

He pauses for a beat, then grins wider, as if proud of his reasoning. “You can’t blame a guy for wanting to have fun! Anyway, once this coffee’s ready, we can start planning. You’ll be wide awake and full of energy. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

You watch him for a moment longer, his utter absurdity and boundless enthusiasm filling the space like an electric current. The coffee machine hums away in the background, and you can feel the sleepiness start to melt away despite yourself. 

Maybe, just maybe, a little chaos in your day wouldn’t be the worst thing. After all, with someone like Satoru around, it’s never really quiet anyway. But maybe, just maybe, that’s for the best. It would keep the nightmares away, even for a little while.

"Did you know they have this crazy roller coaster that does a full 360 loop?" Satoru exclaims, pulling up images of the park on his phone and shoving the screen into Suguru’s face, as he drinks the coffee.

Suguru, still lying on the couch as he drinks the coffee, swats lazily at Satoru’s hand without even opening his dark purple orbs. "Satoru, please.”  he says in a gravelly voice. "It's not even 7 a.m. The park won’t open for hours. Go entertain yourself until then."

"But if we wait, the lines will be insane." Satoru whines, dropping dramatically onto the arm of the couch. "And if we don’t go early, we won’t get to ride everything!"

"Sounds tragic, really." Shoko mutters from her spot on the floor, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she peeks out from under her blanket. "Really, I don’t know how we’d recover from such a loss."

Satoru ignores her, spinning on his heel to face you. His glasses are perched lazily around his neck, and his azure eyes sparkle with an almost childlike glee. You drink your own coffee in silence. You didn’t want to look at him, but when your own lilac eyes and his own orbs met, you were done for.

"Come on, senpai." he pleads, clasping his hands together. "You already said you’d go. Convince these two party poopers!"

You rub your temples, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. But then he turns those eyes on you, full of such unbridled excitement that it catches you off guard. It’s rare to see Gojo Satoru like this, unfiltered and genuinely animated and fully eager, and something about it makes your earlier irritation melt away.

You sigh, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. "Fine, fine. I already said I’d go, didn’t I?"

Satoru freezes for a moment, then lights up like a firework. "You’re the best!" he exclaims, bounding toward you. He stops just shy of your position, crouching down so he’s at eye level. "No, really. You’re the absolute best. I knew you wouldn’t let me down!"

His face is close—too close. You can see the flecks of light in his cerulean blue eyes, the faint curl of his grin, and the way his energy practically radiates off him in waves. It’s overwhelming, and before you know it, your cheeks are burning.

"Stop looking at me like that, Satoru. I’m trying to drink the coffee." you mutter, turning your face away.

Satoru tilts his head, his grin morphing into something softer, more amused. "Like what?"

"Like that." you snap, though your voice lacks bite. You feel like a flustered mess, and his teasing only makes it worse.

Behind you, Suguru sits up, his hair falling messily over his shoulders. "This is exactly why I said no sleepovers. In fact, never again." he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "I forgot how exhausting the two of you can be together."

"You forgot because you’re just a party pooper." Satoru quips, standing up straight and stretching his arms over his head. "Come on, you two. Get up already! We’ve got a theme park to conquer! Sho, drink the coffee!"

"You’ve got a death wish, waking people up like this. On a Sunday, no less." Shoko says, dragging herself into a sitting position. She looks at you and smirks, her sharp gaze catching the faint redness in your cheeks. "And you. Blushing over Gojo Satoru, senpai? Never thought I’d see the day."

"I’m not blushing!" you snap defensively, though the warmth in your face betrays you. “It’s just hot, yeah, it’s just….”

"Sure, sure." Shoko says, standing up and stretching lazily. "I’ll let it slide since I’m getting Satoru’s black card paying for everything.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get up and drink the coffee, Sho!”

Suguru lets out a long sigh, standing and brushing imaginary dust off his pants. "Fine. Let’s get this over with. But if I hear one complaint about how tired you are later, Satoru, I'll convince senpai to leave you stranded at the park by yourself."

"Deal!" Satoru chirps, already darting to the kitchen to grab snacks for the road. "This is going to be amazing, you’ll see!"

As the sun starts to warm your face, the faint glow of early morning sunlight breaking through the coolness of the winter air, you find yourself inexplicably smiling. You can’t help it—no matter how ridiculous it all is, no matter how absurd Satoru’s plans seem, something about this feels right. You finally finished your coffee.

“Maybe this break is exactly what I needed.” you admit, glancing up at the sky. “Not just the time off, but… well, this.” You gesture to the group, already well into some new debate about which roller coaster will give them the best thrill. 

Shoko gives you a knowing look, her eyes slightly squinted in amusement. “Oh, so you’re finally admitting you’re not completely immune to chaos, huh?”

You shrug with a smirk. “I’m just saying, if I have to be dragged into a theme park against my will, at least it’s with the most entertaining people possible.”

Suguru shakes his head with a chuckle. “You know, I thought you were the one who was going to drag us into your chaos, senpai. But look at you now, following his lead.”

Satoru turns around mid-step, his energy never faltering. “Of course! It’s a lifestyle, people! Living on the edge, embracing the madness! You can thank me later when you’ve experienced true joy.”

“And I’ll thank you later when I recover from the exhaustion.” you mutter, but you can’t help but laugh. 

Even if it’s a little chaotic, maybe it’s exactly the kind of break you needed. You’d never admit it to Satoru, but the thought of having a day without responsibilities or missions, without constantly running from one problem to the next, feels like the small escape you’ve been craving.

As the group heads toward the train station, Gojo Satoru still chattering about all the fun things you’re about to experience, you realize that despite all your reluctance and doubts, maybe this chaotic, ridiculous, and loud is exactly what you needed after all.

══════════════════

YOU HADN’T EXPECTED TO FEEL SO FAMILIAR THE MOMENT YOU STEPPED INTO THE GATES OF THE THEME PARK. You used to come here often, with….them. Each time you have the time of day from the week, they would suggest coming here.

It wasn’t too far from Kyoto Jujutsu High, so it was pretty easy to make your way here and then back home in a quick succession. But you haven’t been back since. So, you were surprised that it would still feel familiar and all at the same time, feel different.

The noise of the theme park surrounds you like a warm, chaotic hug—the laughter of children, the shrill screams of riders zooming by on roller coasters, the sugary scent of cotton candy and funnel cakes hanging in the air.

It’s a whirlwind of bright colors, flashing lights, and energy, but you feel strangely detached, standing on the sidewalk in front of the entrance.

It’s been so long since you’ve been to a theme park—six years, maybe more—and the memories that rise to the surface aren’t the happiest. The last time you were here, you were with Namie and Kaiko, and everything seemed so simple. 

You can still remember the sound of their laughter, the way their faces had lit up when they’d seen their favorite ride, the way they had dragged you to the food stalls for overpriced snacks. It was carefree. Happy. But that’s not how you feel now.

The moment stretches on as you find yourself lost in thought, staring at the entrance like it's miles away from you. Before you can sink further into the old memories, you feel a soft presence next to you—gentle, like the calm after a storm.

Suguru stands beside you, not crowding you, but close enough to show that he’s here. He watches you for a moment, his sharp gaze taking in your distant expression. You didn’t even realize how far you had drifted from the group until now.

"Hey, senpai." he says, his voice soft and steady. "You alright?"

You blink, slowly turning toward him, and suddenly realize how out of it you must have looked. It’s hard to hide things from Geto Suguru; he’s the one who always seems to notice when you’re not quite there. You try to brush it off, offering him a small, tight smile.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking," you mutter, hoping that will be enough to convince him.

But Suguru isn’t fooled. "Thinking about what?"

You hesitate, your thoughts still clinging to the past like sticky cobwebs, but you push them away. You can’t stay in that space forever, not here, not today. You didn’t want to dampen the mood.

And you highly doubt that it’s wise to bring up Kaiko. Geto Suguru would at least have a rough knowledge about who she is. But still, a part of you was protective of her. Even with what she had become, you loved her. You still did. You always will.

"The last time I came to a theme park, it was with my own team, in Jujutsu High." you admit quietly. "I guess it’s just... weird being here without them."

Suguru doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, he stands there for a moment, looking at you with an understanding that makes your heart do a small flip. Then, without skipping a beat, he asks you with a small smile.

"What’s something you’re looking forward to today? Something you can enjoy here, just for you, senpai?”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the question. It’s simple—too simple, but somehow it feels like it’s exactly what you needed to hear. Your thoughts trail back to the rides, the sweet treats, the nostalgic excitement of being at a theme park. You hadn’t thought about what you wanted. It had all been about avoiding the past.

"I... I guess I used to love roller coasters, I suppose." you admit, a little sheepishly, as you glance around at the bustling theme park. "And the food, of course. They have some good sandwiches here. But, of course, it's so overpriced, but it always tastes amazing."

Suguru’s lips curl into a soft, almost amused smile as he watches your face light up, just a little. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you, taking in the subtle shift in your demeanor. Then, with a flick of his hand, he gestures to the chaos around you, as if presenting it like a gift. 

“Well, what better place to indulge, huh?”

You chuckle at his nonchalant presentation of the madness around you. It’s comforting, somehow. It’s like he can see exactly what you need without saying a word. It’s one of the reasons why, in all the chaos, Geto Suguru feels like the calm center. He can be a safe zone. You think you could consider him as one.

"Then let’s make today about you, senpai." he says, his voice warm and steady. "You like roller coasters, right? Go get on one. You can even scream as loud as you want." He pauses for a beat, his eyes twinkling just a bit. “If you want, I’ll go with you.”

A laugh bubbles out of you at the thought of getting on a ride and screaming your head off. You didn’t think you could feel even a little bit of excitement today, but there it is—a lightness that you didn’t know you were missing. You shake your head slightly, but there’s a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Scream as loud as I want, huh? That might not be pretty, but sure, I’ll take you up on that.”

Suguru’s smile widens at the sight of you relaxing, just a little. His presence is so calm, so steady, that it feels like the weight on your shoulders lightens just from his quiet support. You find it oddly comforting, like the world is allowed to be a little less heavy for just a moment.

"You don’t have to hold back, you know." he continues, his voice soft but insistent. "Let go for once. It's just you, me, and the roller coasters. It’s about having fun. You’ve been too serious for too long." He gives you a knowing look, his expression sincere. “I get it. Sometimes you need someone to remind you how to laugh.”

His words are gentle, but they carry more weight than you'd expect. Suguru has a way of making you feel seen, like he knows the quiet battles you fight even when you don’t say a word. The tension in your chest eases, and for the first time since arriving, you feel something like hope stirring inside you. 

You realize how badly you’ve been craving a moment like this—something simple, something that doesn’t feel like a mission or a responsibility. It’s just a day, just a small escape. And you were grateful, grateful that you don’t feel this heavy weight on you. Even just one day.

“I might just take you up on that, Suguru.” you say, your smile widening as you meet his gaze. "But if I scream my lungs out, I’m blaming you."

Suguru chuckles softly, a warm, genuine sound that fills the space between you. "Deal. But I’ll be right there with you. We’ll make it a proper scream-fest."

With that, you feel your shoulders relax further, the weight on your chest lifting. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve been missing the little joys like this. The chaos, the laughter, and Suguru’s quiet support. You realize that sometimes, it’s the simplest things, the smallest moments, that make all the difference.

"And hey, senpai." Suguru adds, leaning in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, as if he's sharing a top-secret plan. "If you feel embarrassed, we can have Satoru with us. I’m sure he’ll scream worse and be scared worse. He’ll never live it down. Or better yet, let’s get him on a bungee ride. I’m sure he’ll look absolutely terrible on camera while he screams.”

You blink at him, and for a moment, you actually consider it. The image of Gojo Satoru flailing around on a bungee ride, his usual air of invincibility replaced by sheer terror, is just too funny to ignore. The mental picture has you snorting a little, despite yourself.

“You’re actually a menace.” you reply with a grin, shaking your head. “But that does sound like something I could get behind.”

Suguru’s grin widens, his purple eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought you’d like that idea. It’ll be hilarious. Can you imagine the look on his face when he realizes he’s about to jump off a platform, all while trying to look cool?”

You can't help but laugh at the thought of Satoru trying to keep up his cool guy persona while the bungee cord yanks him into a wild, screaming freefall. “You know, you’re right. He would try to act like it’s no big deal, and then probably end up screaming like a baby.”

Suguru chuckles, clearly enjoying the idea just as much as you are. “Exactly. He won’t know what hit him. And then we’ll never let him live it down. We’ll put the footage on a loop in the dorms. Great cinematic masterpiece!”

At this point, you're grinning ear-to-ear, the tension from earlier all but forgotten. “I’m so in. I’m going to bring it up next time we’re all together.”

Suguru laughs, giving you a playful nudge. “I knew you’d come around. Best part is, he won’t even see it coming. Just wait until you hear him scream. You’ll thank me later.”

The way his laughter seems to light up the space between you makes your heart skip a beat. His words, the way he’s paying attention to you in a way that feels so... personal, warm you from the inside out. 

It’s not just about the theme park or the roller coasters anymore, those are little trivial things. It’s the small things—the way he cares without making a big deal about it. You don’t have to carry everything alone. Not when he’s around.

You clear your throat, feeling your cheeks redden under his gaze. "Thanks, Suguru." you murmur, looking away, not quite able to hold his gaze for too long. "I needed that."

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rich, like a warm breeze. "Anytime, senpai. I’m always here for you."

You give him a small, bashful smile, feeling a flutter in your chest as you turn toward the rest of the group. Satoru’s already waving at you from the front of the line for a roller coaster, looking far too excited for someone who’s supposed to be exhausted from sleeping late last night.

You could believe Shoko’s own demeanor to be more true to life, as she grumbles drinking her mocha frappe beside Satoru in the quiet. You glance back at Suguru, who’s still standing beside you, his calm demeanor making you feel a little more grounded.

"Alright." you say, finally feeling a bit more you than you did when you first walked into the park. "Let’s do this. But I’m not going on the bungee rides, no matter how much you try to make me."

Suguru raises an eyebrow, his smile still soft. "We’ll see about that, senpai. I can be pretty persuasive, after all."

You blush, rolling your lilac eyes, but as the group starts to move toward the ride, you feel lighter. It’s a small step, but a step forward nonetheless. Today, you’re going to enjoy the little things. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll let yourself have a little fun along the way.

As you walk toward Satoru and Shoko, you could tell that there was going to be chaos on the ride ahead. You could feel Suguru’s quiet presence beside you, as he follows you and the warmth in your chest spreads, gentle and comforting.

Maybe this can be a day for new memories with them. Not just old ones you’ve been keeping too deep inside. Maybe you could have more in this life than the grief too big to carry in your heart.

The moment you and Suguru start to fall in step with the rest of the group, Satoru was already bouncing on his heels, antsy with excitement. His cerulean eyes are practically sparkling as he spots the first ride beside the booths.

It was a towering, twisting roller coaster that loops and plunges in ways that make even the most adrenaline-junkie riders second guess their life choices.

“Come on! We’re going on this one first!” Satoru says, grabbing your wrist before you can even protest. His grip is firm but playful, and he tugs you along like you’re a piece of loose paper in the wind. “We’re going to have so much fun here!”

You stumble slightly as he pulls you forward, and your heart skips a beat at how sudden and strong his pull is. You knew he was enthusiastic, but you didn’t expect him to not be afraid of that. It was worse than a regular roller coaster you enjoyed.

"Whoa, Gojo Satoru—slow down!" you manage to get out, trying to keep your balance as you hurry to keep up with his eager steps. His energy is so contagious that it's a bit overwhelming, and you’re already feeling a little winded just from trying to keep up with him.

Satoru looks over his shoulder at you, giving you a wide grin, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh? You scared, senpai?" he teases, slowing just a little, but not enough for your liking. “I thought you were a roller coaster person!”

"I am!" you reply, more defensively than you mean to. "But I don’t need to break into a sprint to get on a ride, Satoru!" You wince, realizing you’re practically out of breath already. “You’re just too fast for me, that’s all.”

He chuckles, slowing his pace just enough to let you catch up, though you can still see the excitement bubbling in his gaze. He turns fully toward you, flashing that trademark grin. “Sorry, sorry! I just really want you to have fun! This ride is amazing, you’ll see! It’ll make you forget all about whatever you were thinking about earlier.” He winks, as though this is some grand plan to distract you.

You can’t help but blush at his playful confidence. It’s hard to ignore the way his presence takes over a space, even when he's just trying to drag you onto a ride. “You’re way too much sometimes, you know that?”

Satoru laughs, his hand still holding yours tightly as he walks backward in front of you, his gaze never leaving yours. “What? I’m just being enthusiastic! You’re gonna love it. I promise.”

You try to resist, but his energy is infectious, and despite your initial hesitation, you find yourself smiling. You glance over at Suguru and Shoko, who are walking a few paces behind, Suguru shaking his head with a small smile, clearly used to Gojo’s antics by now.

"Satoru," you say, pulling back just slightly, trying to dig in your heels. "I’m not sure I’m ready for that huge of a ride right off the bat. I mean, I—"

But before you can finish your sentence, Satoru is already gripping your hand a little tighter, his signature grin plastered across his face. Without hesitation, he begins turning you toward the massive roller coaster queue, practically dragging you along. 

“Nope, no backing out now, senpai! You said you’d scream, so let’s scream!”

"Wait, Satoru, seriously—!" you protest, stumbling a little as he pulls you forward with alarming enthusiasm.

"Suguru, help!" you call out, half-laughing and half-panicking, like a kid being dragged along by an overzealous parent.

Suguru, who’s been watching this whole spectacle with an amused smirk, laughs out loud. "Alright, alright. I’ll come with you, senpai." He gives you a knowing look, one that says he’s not about to let you go through this alone.

"Good. Thank you." you mutter, slightly relieved, though you're not sure how much that’ll actually help. Suguru’s calm presence is certainly reassuring, but there’s no amount of support that could fully prepare you for the monstrous roller coaster looming in front of you.

Satoru, in all his glory, turns to you with an exaggerated wink. “Don’t worry, senpai. You’re gonna love it. And if you scream like a little kid, I won’t judge... much.” He chuckles, then starts tugging you forward again. “Come on, let’s make this fun! Just think about the view from the top!”

“You’re both insane,” you mutter, though you can’t hide a reluctant grin. You can tell you’re probably not getting out of this one, not with Satoru’s unshakeable confidence and Suguru’s good-natured support. Maybe this would end up being more fun than you expected—though you’d reserve judgment until after the ride.

Suguru gives you a small smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Hey, it’s all about enjoying the moment. Besides, if you scream, we’ll have some great footage for the bungee to laugh at later. Let him have his fun here."

You pause, shooting him a sideways glance. “You guys really have it out for me today, don’t you?”

"Of course," Suguru replies with a teasing tone. "You look like you could use a good scream."

"You're going to pay for this." you warn both of them, but you can’t help the slight chuckle that escapes. Maybe, just maybe, this chaotic day was exactly what you needed after all.

“I’ll take three tickets, please.” he says confidently, practically bouncing on his feet as he hands over the money. “And they’re both with me!” 

He gestures to you and Suguru with exaggerated flair, and for a moment, you can’t help but roll your eyes, though you can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. His enthusiasm is impossible to resist.

As the three of you board the ride and take your seats, Satoru buckles in beside you with exaggerated care, flashing you a playful wink. "See? I told you we’d have fun."

Suguru takes your hand and smiles at you. “It’s going to be okay, senpai. We’re here with you.”

You chuckle nervously, glancing at the massive drops ahead of you. “You know, you’re really making me regret agreeing to this.”

Satoru tilts his head, his glasses slightly shifting as he grins. "I’m just here to help you face your fears, senpai.” He gives you a look of mock seriousness. "If you scream, I won’t judge. Promise."

You snort, shaking your head. "I’m not scared. I just don’t like being dragged into things at full speed."

The ride jerks to life hard, and before you know it, the cart lurches forward. You feel your stomach leap as you zoom forward on the track, the wind whipping through your hair.

And for a split second, you forget everything, the past, the hesitation, the weight of your thoughts. It’s just the rush, the dizzying sensation of the roller coaster twisting, turning, and plunging.

And there, right next to you, Satoru and Suguru’s faces are lit up with the brightest, most carefree smile you’ve ever seen. Their bright purple and cerulean orbs are wide with excitement, and you can’t help but laugh, the sound drowned out by the noise of the ride. 

You scream as you plummet down one of the steep drops, still holding onto Suguru’s hand. The other free one is trying to reach for Satoru’s, who catches yours as he laughs against the drop. The rush of adrenaline flooding your veins, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel free.

As the ride slows and the ground levels out, Satoru turns toward you, his grin wide and unashamed. "See? Told you you’d love it."

“You really are gripping my hand hard, senpai.” Suguru butted in too, grinning. “You sure you aren’t scared anymore?”

You look at him, laughing, feeling the aftershocks of the ride still coursing through you. “You’re impossible. Both of you.” you say, though your tone is affectionate, and your cheeks are flushed, partly from the ride, partly from the fact that he’s just too damn charming.

Satoru just beams, squeezing your hand briefly before letting go. “Impossible is my middle name, senpai.”

Suguru laughs. “Wah, Satoru. That’s the worst thing you could have said. Corny as shit.”

“Hey, it was great!”

And for the first time in a long while, you find yourself really laughing, your worries forgotten, at least for now. Maybe it’s not about the past at all. Maybe it’s about moments like this, moments of pure, unadulterated fun.

With them by your side, you realize you might just start looking forward to more of them. For the first time in a while, you think you could smile with the utmost tenderness from your heart.

══════════════════

THERE WAS STILL MUCH TO EXPLORE. The sun is high, and the day stretches before you, bright and full of promise. The chaos of the theme park no longer feels overwhelming; instead, it’s just... fun. Y

ou’re laughing, you’re present, and the weight of the past feels just a little lighter with every ride, every bite of food, and every moment spent with the group.

The roller coaster was only the beginning, and now, you find yourself happily floating through the park, trying out different attractions with Satoru dragging you from one to the next like an excited child.

While Suguru keeps a steady, slightly exasperated pace beside you. His protective, calming energy balances out Satoru’s manic enthusiasm perfectly, and you can’t help but appreciate how easy it is to be around him, even in the middle of all this chaos. 

Shoko had taken the liberty of following you guys and disappearing, with Satoru’s black card in hand and buying at the gift stores. She was enjoying herself as much as everyone else too. When she wasn’t doing that, she was taking pictures and videos on her phone. Satoru excitedly tells her to send the videos over to him later. 

But of course, Gojo Satoru’s antics are far from over.

“Look at this!” Satoru exclaims, his voice nearly drowned out by the noise of the park as he rushes over to a nearby cart with trinkets. "I have to get this! It’s a giant plushie version of a panda! It's practically begging me to take it home!"

Before anyone can protest, Satoru’s already handing over wads of cash to the vendor, grinning wildly as he tosses the plushie over his shoulder like it’s no big deal. The panda plush is almost as tall as he is, which makes it even more ridiculous, but Gojo doesn’t seem to care.

Suguru, who has been following along at a slower pace, shakes his head with a smile that’s half exasperation, half fondness. "Satoru, that thing’s the size of a small child. You really think you’re going to carry that around the park?"

Satoru doesn’t miss a beat. "It’ll be my new best friend!" he declares dramatically, as if it’s the most reasonable thing in the world. "You don’t get it, Suguru. It has character. It’ll make the trip ten times more fun!"

By this point, you also needed a break. So you found yourself joining Shoko as the two continued to argue. You and Shoko, who have been happily munching on snacks while observing the aftermath of their ridiculous skirmish, exchange a glance. 

Shoko takes another bite of her cotton candy and grins. "At least they’re both having fun, don’t you think?" she says, her tone dry but amused. "And if you’re being honest, you kind of like having them around like this, don’t you, senpai?"

You blush at her words, suddenly self-conscious. "I... I mean, who doesn’t? They’re both good people. And good natured too!"

Shoko raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint never leaving her eyes. "Right. One’s a man-child who thinks a giant stuffed panda is a necessity and the other arguing about how that isn’t a necessity with the passion of a thousand suns. Hm."

You laugh, a little embarrassed but also entertained by how spot-on she is. "Okay, maybe they’re both a little much sometimes.  But it’s hard not to get caught up in their enthusiasm. Satoru’s—well, he’s fun. And Suguru keeps that well–balanced, don’t you think?"

Shoko gives you a knowing look, her smile a little softer now, and you realize she might have noticed something you haven’t quite put into words. You shift uncomfortably, but before you can think too much about it, Satoru comes running back over to you, holding the giant panda up in the air like it’s some sort of victory flag.

"Look at this thing! Isn’t it amazing, senpai?" he says, practically bouncing with excitement. "I’m going to name it Taro. And no, Suguru, you can’t stop me."

Suguru sighs dramatically but can’t quite hide his smile. "I’ve given up at this point." he mutters, taking a french fry from your food box. "Do whatever you want."

You giggle at the dynamic between them. It’s like watching a child and his ever-patient older sibling, and it’s oddly endearing. You’d never had a sibling, but looking at them, you wondered if this is what it was like. 

"Well, Taro looks very... Gojo Satoru coded, don’t you think?" you say, reaching out to pat the plushie’s oversized head. "You two are practically made for each other."

Satoru beams at you, clearly thrilled with your approval. "Right? I knew you’d get it!" He gives the panda a dramatic hug, causing you to laugh even harder.

Meanwhile, Shoko, who's been quietly watching the exchange, takes another bite of her food before leaning toward you with a grin. “So, do you think this is a sign that Gojo Satoru’s never going to grow up?” she asks, a little teasing. “Our very own Peter Pan!”

You laugh and shrug. "I mean, who needs to grow up when you’ve got a giant panda plushie and a whole theme park to play in?"

Shoko nods sagely, as if this is the most reasonable thing in the world. "True. At least it keeps him entertained."

As you continue walking, Satoru and Suguru continue talking animatedly ahead of you, Shoko nudges you gently with her elbow. “But hey, senpai.” she says, her voice a little softer now, “I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s not easy for you. But you’re doing okay.”

The kindness in her voice catches you off guard, and you blink, surprised by the sincerity behind her words. "Thanks, Shoko." you say quietly. "I think I needed this. This moment, today."

“Good.” she says with a small, warm smile. “We all need to have some fun once in a while. Besides, Satoru wouldn’t let you get away without a little chaos. It's his specialty."

You laugh again, the sound light and free, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like you can breathe a little easier. Maybe you’ve been taking life too seriously. Maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to be a little reckless and carefree every once in a while.

And with Satoru pulling you toward yet another ride with Taro under his arm, you realize that you’re actually happy. Maybe this is what you’ve been missing—moments like these. Moments with people who understand you, who bring out your laughter, who make you forget the darker parts of your past, even if just for a day.

As Satoru hands you a churro, his grin wide and infectious, you feel your heart lighten. Maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to enjoy the chaos after all. You and the others continue enjoying the park, the laughter and chaos of Satoru’s little antics here and there providing a comforting backdrop, you find yourself starting to lose track of time. 

The once bright winter sun’s starting to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in a warm, golden light. You’re just about to take another bite of your churro when you hear a familiar voice call out to you from behind.

"Senpai….is that... you?" The voice sounds amused, a little teasing, and you immediately recognize it.

You turn, still holding the churro in your hand, and blink in surprise when you spot two very familiar faces making their way through the crowd. Iori Utahime is the first to wave, her expression a mix of surprise and slight exasperation as she spots you. 

Kusakabe Atsuya is also trailing behind her, looking as stoic as ever but with a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he spots you crowding with the Tokyo trio. You blinked and then smiled widely, waving at them.

"Utahime! Kusakabe!" you say, a little surprised but smiling nonetheless. “What are you guys doing here?”

Utahime smirks, crossing her arms as she gives you an exaggerated look. "I could ask you the same thing, senpai. But I guess it’s not surprising you'd be here.”

“Hm, I still live in Kyoto, no?”

“Yeah, I know. But considering all the hype Gojo Satoru’s been making about it, it’s a different loudness to behold." She tilts her head toward Satoru, who’s still clutching his giant panda plushie, clearly oblivious to the attention it’s drawing.

Satoru perks up at the mention of his name and waves the plushie in the air like a victory flag. "Hey, Utahime! Kusakabe!" he calls, completely unapologetic about the chaos he’s caused. "Come join the party! You guys have to ride the roller coaster. It’s amazing."

Utahime raises an eyebrow but doesn't seem all that surprised by Satoru’s little antics. "I'll pass on the roller coaster, thanks. But the food smells good, so I'll gladly join you for that." She glances at the churro in your hand and adds, "You’ve got the right idea, senpai."

You chuckle, holding up the churro in silent offering, and Utahime eagerly accepts. "Nice to see you’re indulging. It’s pretty good, this churro!" she comments with a small grin, then turns to Kusakabe, who’s silently surveying the park, arms crossed as usual. 

Kusakabe shrugs, clearly indifferent but still managing a rare, approving glance your way. "I’m just here because she dragged me along. She said it’s not good to hide away in the dorms all day.”

“I’m going to say she’s right.” You smiled at him. “You do hide away often, still practicing.”

“You’re not making a scene, are you, Gojo?" Kusakabe asks, his tone flat but carrying just a hint of sarcasm.

Satoru’s grin widens even further, and he walks over to Kusakabe, putting an arm around his shoulders in the most obnoxious, over-the-top way. "Making a scene? Me? Never!" Satoru says, practically vibrating with energy. "I’m just making memories with senpai and my friends, my man. This is what it’s all about!"

Kusakabe doesn’t even flinch, though you catch the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Right, right." he mutters dryly. "Making memories... with a stuff toy named Taro."

Satoru holds the panda up proudly. "Taro is my companion for the day! You can’t argue with that!"

You find yourself laughing, the sight of Satoru’s overenthusiasm, Kusakabe’s dry humor, and Utahime’s grin at the churro making the day feel even more perfect. It’s strange, but for once, you don’t mind the noise, the chaos. It feels... easy. Fun. Like this is where you were always supposed to be. Somehow, it was like the old days again.

"Okay, I’ll admit, senpai." Utahime says after taking a bite of the churro. "This place is pretty fun. I didn’t expect it to be so fun. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you till now.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, smiling. "See? I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Especially on the food.”

“Oh, I think it’s the best part!” She grinned at you.

“Right?” 

“Utahime–senpai!” Ieiri Shoko called out on the other side of the park cross, smiling as she held a shopping bag on her shoulder and another in her hands. 

Utahime blushed and smiled widely, waving back as she came rushing to her. “Shoko, you’re here too!”

You blinked, turning to Suguru. “Does she……”

Suguru laughed at your assumption. “I would have thought you would notice it first, senpai.”

Kusakabe chimes in with his usual deadpan humor, his arms still crossed. "I don’t know about you guys, but I was hoping for a more relaxing day. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

"Relaxing?" Satoru repeats with a dramatic gasp, as if the very word offends him. "Who needs relaxation when you’ve got theme park rides, food, and Taro here to make everything better?"

Kusakabe sighed heavily. “I can’t believe my day off is going to be spent like this.”

You smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “Don’t mind, Atsuya.”

///

YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT YAWN AS THE PARK GREW DARKER. You can feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones after hours of running around the theme park, riding everything from roller coasters to bumper cars, and indulging in far too many snacks. Your feet are sore, your eyelids are heavy, but there's a sense of contentment that you can’t shake off. Despite the chaos and noise, you’ve enjoyed yourself more than you thought you would.

Utahime, who had been tolerating Satoru’s antics all day, is clearly at her breaking point. She glares at him as he laughs, still carrying around that ridiculous plushie, and mutters something under her breath about "never going anywhere with him again." 

Shoko, ever the voice of reason, is beside her, trying to calm her down, though it’s clear she’s also amused by Utahime’s exasperation. You can think that the supposed crisis was averted when Shoko took her to go shop at more stores with her.

They were holding hands too, which made Utahime feel a little bit more at ease.  Kusakabe had gone off to follow them, when Satoru indulged in more rides. 

Geto Suguru, with his usual composed demeanor, is also enjoying the calm—his serene expression only interrupted by the occasional glance in your direction on his right side, already starting to feel the weariness of the day.

Unlike Gojo Satoru who had a boundless energy in him, you were already too tired to do anything except sit down. You had made your way over there, feeling like your legs might give out at any moment. As you sit down, your exhaustion catches up with you, and you rest your head on the back of the bench for a moment, just to steady yourself.

Without thinking, you lean toward Suguru, resting your head gently on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the soft weight of his presence beside you. It’s comforting. Safe. The world around you fades into a blur as your eyes flutter shut, the exhaustion finally pulling you under.

The sound of Satoru’s voice breaks through the haze of sleepiness. "Hey! Where’s everyone gone off to?!" he calls out, his usual loud, boisterous tone cutting through the air. You can hear the faint sound of him approaching, his footsteps getting closer.

Suddenly, you feel Suguru’s shoulder shift slightly, and you crack open one eye, only to see Satoru was standing in front of you, his mischievous smile wide. He’s about to say something when Suguru, with an almost imperceptible shift in his expression, raises a finger to his lips.

"Shh…." he says, in a voice low enough that only Satoru can hear. “Senpai’s falling asleep.”

Satoru blinks, surprised for a moment, before his smile softens and he looks down at you, still leaning against Suguru with your eyes closed. He crosses his arms, tilting his head, clearly trying to contain a grin. "Look at you two. So cute." Satoru comments quietly, his voice teasing yet soft. “Oh? Is senpai drooling?”

“Shhhh….let senpai sleep already.”

Suguru’s dark purple eyes flick up to meet Satoru’s infinite blue, and there’s a brief, silent exchange between the two of them. Suguru doesn’t even need to say anything. Satoru already knows. He looks down at you again, then back at Gojo with a small, barely perceptible nod.

Satoru, never one to back down from a playful moment, smiles even wider, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper. He lets his finger trace against the edges of your hair. He smiles. 

"You know, you look really cute when you're asleep like that, senpai." He leans in closer, but not too close, his voice soft enough so you won’t hear him. “Get some sleep.”

Suguru glances up at Satoru once more, his calm demeanor never shifting, and he simply says, "Satoru, please.." His tone is polite, but there’s an edge of finality to it that even Satoru recognizes.

Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, clearly enjoying this more than he probably should, but he obeys, taking a step back. "Fine, fine." he mutters playfully. "But I swear, if I had a picture of this, I’d have it framed."

You barely hear him, still drifting in and out of sleep. There’s a soft, comforting pressure on your head from where your hair rests against Suguru’s shoulder, and the rhythmic sound of his breathing calms you, making you feel like you don’t need to worry about anything for a while.

You feel a smile tug at your lips, the warmth of their presence wrapping around you like a blanket, and you let yourself drift deeper into the comfort of the moment, surrounded by the quiet affection.

And then it happened.

Satoru looked up as soon as Suguru did.

The soft shift of your sleeping form caught their attention. You stirred slightly against Suguru, instinctively curling in a little tighter, your body seeking warmth as a chill swept through the room.

Suguru’s expression softened, his eyes tracing your movements, but it was Satoru who spoke first, his voice unexpectedly quiet. “It’s snowing.”

The faint glow of the streetlight outside caught the flurry of snowflakes falling from the sky, dusting everything in a soft, peaceful white. The world outside felt miles away from the cozy warmth of your shared space, but the beauty of the moment lingered between them.

Satoru’s usual playful demeanor faded for a moment as he watched you shift again, his gaze softening. It was rare for him to be still, his mind always racing with a thousand thoughts, a thousand plans. But the simplicity of the scene made him pause.

Suguru glanced at the window, then back at you, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while, huh?”

Satoru chuckled under his breath, but there was a softness to it that didn’t quite match his usual carefree tone. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s nice to just... be here. For once.”

The snowfall outside grew heavier, the world outside becoming a blur of white. The silence between the three of you stretched on, comfortable and warm, until Suguru shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you. He adjusted the blanket, making sure you were tucked in tightly.

“Let’s just stay here for a bit.” Suguru murmured. “No need to rush back into the chaos.”

Satoru nodded, his grin returning as he looked at the falling snow. “Yeah, I think we all could use a little more of this.”

You didn’t wake, lost in the warmth of the moment, the sound of the snowfall outside blending with the quiet of the room. For a moment, everything felt like it could stay this way forever—still, serene, and untouchable. They wanted it to.

The night stretched on, and the snow continued to fall. And in that quiet, the weight of everything outside seemed to fade, leaving just the three of them, comfortable in each other's company, wrapped in warmth, surrounded by the calm embrace of winter.

Everything was great, that last Christmas.

The next year, you thought about these memories.

And just as much, you cried too much about it too.

Because you were alone again, without them to lean on.

But you would never know about it now.

[mjbarrosart]

My Dragon Prince Boards season 6, episode 605

Ok folks, It is time to go trough the next episode of season 6 I worked, episode 605.

When you are working on an episode as a storyboard artist you, usually, want to choose how to approach your sequences. Most of the time your will get instructions from your director and supervisor to do things in certain ways, making sure that things aligning between episodes and general season arcs; but most of details of your sequences are up to you.

In this episode I had the huge privilege to tackle most of Soren and Viren interactions, and a big question for my, from the beginning, was "what will be my approach?"

Because, how I see it, there are 2 big forces, struggles, arcs- or whatever you want to call it- in conflict during this sequences. In one hand, you have Soren and his pain, and in the other hand, you have Viren and his desire for forgiveness.

I decided to approach this sequences from Viren's, because 2 reasons mainly:

The first one, is the most obvious one, is that- at least for me- Soren's arc is already resolved, of course he is in real pain, and he is a victim of abuse and there is a lot of trauma that he needs to heal, but his overall arc resolved in season 3. He is one of the goof guys now, and he knows where he stands. This is an important moment for his healing, for sure, but it is more relevant to Viren's arc that is still incomplete at this point.

The second reason is more personal. While I am a daughter, I have the blessing of having a really good relationship with my parents, so while I understand Soren's trauma, I have not a lot of personal experience to pour into. But, I am also a mother, and from that point of view, I deeply understand Viren. I still think that he is a villain, and what he did was wrong in all levels, but I can absolutely connect with the idea of "parents sacrifice for their children, not the other way around".

Parenting is the eternal struggle between being able to do anything for your children well being, and understanding that they are their own person, and their have the right to make their own mistakes and live their own life.

So yeah, that is what was in my mind during this episode, now let's check sequence by sequence!

My first sequence is a sweet one, between Ezran and Soren. I usually don't have a lot of sequences with the young king, so it is always fun to work with him

Overall, it is a simple and sweet moment between this two, I love how much Soren respects Ezran but at the same time tries to keep it casual, haha. I love the idea of friends loving and supporting each other.

My next sequence is when Soren goes to visit Viren for the first time. This is a big one. In one hand, Viren wants to talk and express everything he has to say, in the other Soren holding up his feelings, dealing with confusion and anger.

The sequence opens with the shot of Viren in the cell and the fly on the spider web. It's a pretty on the nose metaphor that we used through the full episode.

A less on the nose metaphor I tried to build during the sequences was using the bars as a framing devise to show emotional states. When Viren is talking with guilt and resentment, he is usually framed behind the bars. When he is talking from a place of love, taking into consideration Soren's feelings and acknowledging the damage ha has caused, he usually is framed without the bars.

This is a sequence where they fail to connect, and by the end, Viren tries to follow Soren, but the chains stop him. There is still a huge division between both of them.

Next sequences is another interaction, This time, they will talk, but it will not be good. We start with Viren, still trapped, suffering. He is a little calmer now. He tries to connect with Soren, but it is still hard, the bars are between them, and the pain is keeping them apart.

But then, Viren starts to talk more freely, to recognize his mistakes, the damage that he caused to Soren, to Claudia. The ways he was a bad parent and hurt them both. So we flip the framing, now Viren is free, Soren is behind the bars.

Soren's pain is stopping him from healing and is coming out as rage.

he has a hard time believing whatever his father is telling him. In the past, Viren manipulated him, why now would be different. It is so hard to break cycles of abuse, and it is hard to forgive, too. Some people don't deserve forgiveness, to be honest. And I am not sure if Soren ever will forgive Viren.

So Soren burst into rage. I wanted to create a pretty visceral reaction. Talking with his hands and body, almost like puking out his feelings, so much pain that he can not hold anymore. But this is not necessarily what he needs. He screams at Viren, he hits the bars, he leaves in rage, and the wound is still open.

And Viren is defeated again. Forgiveness will not be something easy to get.

My next sequences is a short silly one, hahaha. Rayla and Callum going to fight the beast. I swear to god i have the "Slash, Slash, Swirly dash" line stuck in my head until today ><

Well, back to the drama.

My last sequence of the episode is when Viren wakes up, and Soren is there.

This time, there is no confrontation between them. Viren understands that no matter what he says, he may never be never forgiven. So he stops trying to "convince" Soren that he is sorry, and just tell him what he thinks Soren needs to hear.

And after that Soren leaves, maybe for the first time ready to start the path to healing.

And that was my work on episode 605!!

Thanks for reading this long post, again!

If you have any questions about the board process on Dragon prince, please feel free to ask! Also, I always read all the comments you put in the tags, they always make me smile :) Thank you!!!

Soon I'll post about my work on 608!

[nerdallwritey]

About to Strike (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: ONCE AGAIN I've yapped too much and this chapter became longer than tumblr likes, so I've split it into two posts. It's the same drill as Cheeks All Flushed: The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.  He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.  “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.  OR The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.7k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 6 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: SURPRISE! Part 6 is COMPLETE and she's A LOT. The back half is mainly smut and feelings and Astarion processing emotions a little which we LOVE to see. I hope to the gods that you guys find this to be a good followup to Worth the Peril, but I'm excited to FINALLY be in Act 2 and get into the big romantic scenes that happen there. Thank you all so much for sticking around and loving this goofy version of Astarion and his favorite bard :) You guys are the best and I adore and appreciate every single one of you! Please enjoy these silly little vignettes from the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2! (Thank you as always to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading!) As a reminder, last time you got Mega Hurt in a fight and Astarion kind of took that personally.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

“Would you relax?” you whispered sharply to the vampire currently brooding to your right.

“How can I be when this… ancient woman just tried to murder you?” Astarion threw a dramatic hand forward, gesturing to Jaheira, who was walking in front of you towards the Last Light Inn. You all had just arrived at the well lit sanctuary in the Shadow Cursed Lands, only to be interrogated by the High Harper, and vouched for by Mol, who’d managed to find her way here as well.

“I handled it,” you hissed. “It’s going to be okay.”

“While I admire your optimism, darling, I still don’t trust her.”

Karlach buzzed behind you, clearly in disbelief. “Mate, you must be joking. That’s the Jaheira!”

Astarion slowed his pace a bit to meet Karlach’s eye. “And, I take it, you know the old crone?”

“Astarion!” Wyll sounded surprised. “You’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate longer than I have! And you don’t know the tales they tell of Jaheira and her party of adventurers?”

Your crew of seven came to a halt in front of a moss covered fountain to gawk at the elf.

He clicked his tongue. “Mmm… that’d be a no.”

“He’s lying,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

“I am not!”

Gale lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Come now, Astarion, surely you’ve heard passing tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate? Or perhaps read a book of their exploits?”

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “I do not know of this ‘Jah-hee-rah’ person. Her heroics must not be that impressive if I have never heard of her.”

“Nor I,” Halsin cut in.

“Yes, well, being freakish outsiders from the Astral Plane and the middle of the forest will deprive you of basic history lessons.” Astarion crossed his arms.

You snorted. “So what’s your excuse?” The others snickered. 

Astarion placed an annoyed hand on his hip. “Did you all forget that I was kept as a slave for two hundred years of pure misery and torture?”

The group remained silent for a moment before you stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re still not over that?” 

He smirked. “Would you believe it’s taking me a little longer than one might expect?”

“Shame,” you pouted. Then you looked at Karlach who was angling her head around the fountain to track where Jaheira had gone. “You want to enlighten these three, Karlach?”

Karlach looked back at you all and her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, yes please!” She rolled her shoulders and bounced on her feet as if she were preparing for battle, rather than recounting basic Baldur’s Gate history. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Years ago - over a century-”

You turned to Astarion and caught his eye. A century! your expression seemed to say.

Astarion shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and unwrapped one of his crossed arms to hold dramatically in front of himself. So what?

You rolled your eyes. So you should have been there!

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know what to tell you.

You huffed some hair out of your eyes and tuned back in to what Karlach was saying.

“-Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Seravok - a Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war.”

Once again, you caught Astarion’s eye. “And you don’t recall any of this?”

He pursed his lips as the others turned to look at him. “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall tensions being rather high around the city all those years ago.”

“Liar,” Shadowheart accused again. “It had to be more apparent than that. Why don’t you just admit you know who Jaheira is?”

Astarion’s response was venomous: “I was kept on a very tight leash, thank you, so apologies for not getting the names of the heroes who ‘saved’ the city that kept me enslaved for another hundred years.” 

You approached him quietly and took his hand. He scowled at Shadowheart but wrenched his gaze away to look at you. His expression softened mildly.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. “I’m sure she would have come for you and your siblings had she known.”

“Yes, probably come to kill us for being abominations,” he muttered, but squeezed your hand anyway.

“Ah, don’t be like that, Astarion,” Wyll said cheerfully. “I’m sure she would have helped you! You’re quite fun once you get past all the prickly bits.”

“Gee, thanks,” Astarion said flatly. 

Karlach took the awkward silence that followed as an opportunity to keep fangirling. “My mum used to tell us stories all about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough.”

“Probably a good ally to have on our side,” you said. Your companions nodded in agreement.

“I’ve told myself those stories thousands of times since,” Karlach continued. “I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero, and I was always… some Outer City kid.”

“Well, excellent news, Karlach,” Gale said. “Given our circumstances and the path we currently find ourselves on, it’s quite possible that we might be considered heroes one day.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. It is likely some of you will perish before we are able to slay this unknown enemy.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Charming as always, Lae’zel.”

“I am not charming. I am merely stating fact.”

Halsin cleared his throat. “Another druid you say, Karlach?”

Karlach grinned and nodded. “She’s the best! Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together. What a day!”

And what a day it had been. 

Or, tenday, more like.

~~~~~

The day after you’d told Astarion’s sleeping form that you loved him, he’d been nothing but clingy. 

You awoke to find him still curled tightly into your side, but now he was fully awake, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was unnerving.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly before an easy grin rested on his lips. “Just making sure you still have a pulse, darling.”

You snorted. “Checking on your food supply, I see.”

Astarion angled his head to nuzzle his nose along your throat before kissing your pulse point. “What can I say,” he murmured against your skin, “we vampires have two instincts, as we learned from that book yesterday: ‘feed and make little vampires.’” He scrunched his face into a silent roar, baring his fangs and forming one of his hands into a claw. He slashed it through the air playfully.

“Yes well, the latter probably won’t be happening for a little while,” you said, shifting to sit up, but wincing in pain over the wound in your torso. 

Astarion was rolling off the pillows within seconds and coming around to help you sit up. His eyes were concerned, but he pouted and his voice was teasingly whiny when he said, “Pity.” He rested his forehead against your temple. “I do so miss being inside of you.”

You nearly choked on your own spit, which had him pulling away from you and laughing. 

“Whatever,” you muttered, watching as Astarion pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Hungry, my sweet?” he asked, still smiling.

“You’re really freaking me out,” you said, giving him a sideways look, “with how nice you’re being.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Fine. Starve.” With that, he exited your tent with a theatrical swoosh of the flaps that acted as a door.

You exhaled a disbelieving laugh, watching as the flaps swished back and forth before settling back into their closed position.

“SHE’S WHAT?!” you heard Karlach shriek, followed by loud, bounding footsteps approaching your tent. 

Astarion called after her in annoyance, “Don’t bother her!”

“Soldier!” Karlach’s head and shoulders popped their way into your tent. “So happy you’re awake!”

“Hi Karlach,” you laughed. “I’d get up but-”

Karlach shook her head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m sure Shadowheart and Halsin will want to change your bandages and pump you full of potions but… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you said. “Thank you for helping while I was unconscious.”

“You’d do the same for any of us,” she said earnestly, still on her hands and knees in the entrance of your tent. 

You heard a dull thump outside that had Karlach yelping in surprise. 

“Out,” came Astarion’s sour tone, his tongue putting extra emphasis on the “t.”

Karlach looked back over her shoulder and then over to you. “He kicked my boot, the bastard! Proper hard, too!”

“I’d do a lot worse if you weren’t a walking furnace.” Another thump informed you that he kicked Karlach’s boot again.

Rather than retreat, however, Karlach settled her elbows into the dirt and rested her head in her hands. “Ask nicely.” She met your eye with a mischievous grin. 

You heard Astarion squawk incredulously. “Darling, tell her to move!”

Clearing your throat to keep from laughing, you said firmly, “Astarion. Be nice. That’s my dear friend, Karlach, you’re kicking.”

He muttered something you couldn’t make out, followed by a loud groan. 

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Dear, sweet, Karlach-” 

“Liking the sound of this,” Karlach nodded.

“-would you be so kind as to remove your humongous form from the entrance of my lovely bard’s tent?” It sounded as if the words were causing him physical pain.

Karlach looked back at you. “What do you think, Soldier?”

“He could probably do better,” you said with a smirk. But it was then that your stomach decided to growl loudly. 

“Woof,” Karlach said.

You could practically hear Astarion’s eye roll. “You know, if you let me in, I could remedy that little problem you’re experiencing.”

Karlach slanted her mouth to the side. “He’s probably right, Gale left behind a bunch of-” she waggled her fingers, “-magic-y warm food for you before he, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Wyll headed out this morning.”

You cocked your head to the side. “And you didn’t go with them?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “And miss you possibly waking up?”

You smiled at her fondly. “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Besides, I don’t trust myself around all the explodey mushrooms down here.”

Astarion cleared his throat loudly.

“Alright, Fangs, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Karlach looked over her shoulder at him before looking back at you once more. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” She pointed to her temple, referring to the tadpole connection, and winked. She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, purposely taking her time, before she fully exited the tent. 

Astarion took her place instantly, crawling into the space with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bread, and a pair of healing potions. He placed the entire thing on your lap, along with a fork, before settling onto the ground next to you. 

You blinked at him. “Breakfast in bed?” 

He scoffed. “It isn’t as if you can join us at the breakfast table.”

Smiling softly, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, my love. This is very kind of you.”

He still scowled, but his face softened when he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm. “I expect the same kind of pampering in return if I’m ever to practically die as foolishly as you.”

You laughed before picking up the fork and stabbing some egg. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

~~~~~

And for the first few days, it did feel like pampering: Astarion staying by your side at all times - reading to you, laying with you, changing your bandages… He only ever left to feed himself. He refused your blood, citing that you needed it more than him, even though your bleeding had slowed to a halt by the third day. 

It all felt very nice.

Until you felt well enough to get back on your feet.

The others had dutifully been wrapping things up in the Underdark; defeating monsters, freeing deep gnomes from their drow and duergar slavers, rescuing the halfling woman’s husband, and exploring an abandoned wizard’s tower and the temple to Shar, to name a few. Lae’zel had even gifted you a new longsword she’d found, Phalar Aluve - a sword with the ability to sing or shriek - claiming that this weapon would not have allowed you to be wounded as fatally, had you had it during the duergar battle in the decrepit village.

On the day they raided the Zhentarim cache Astarion had mentioned all those days ago, he’d remained dutifully by your side, much to your dismay and protests that you’d be fine without him for a few hours.

“Absolutely not,” he’d said, looking down his nose at you. “As if Halsin or Shadowheart could care for you as properly as I have.”

“You forget,” you’d responded, mildly annoyed, “that they’re the ones who taught you how to care for me.”

“And I’m the one who shall continue to care for you,” he huffed, finishing changing your bandages once again. By this time, you could sit up on your own with mild to no pain at all. You were perfectly capable of changing your own bandages, but Astarion had insisted on continuing to help you. 

You supposed it was nice that he wanted to take care of you, given how much he usually hated being responsible for anything, but he was taking the job a bit too seriously.

Luckily, Karlach and Lae’zel had lugged some chests they’d been unable to open at the Zhentarim storeroom back to camp, allowing your beloved rogue to take part in the raid, despite not attending himself, and thus allowing you a moment of peace to roll off your pillows and put on fresh clothes without his help.

You emerged from your tent to look at the spoils from the storeroom, standing up straight and walking on your own. Astarion hadn’t noticed at first, too busy fiddling with the lock of a particularly large chest, but the commotion created by your companions forced him to look in your direction. 

“You’re up!” Wyll exclaimed.

“Do you need any help?” Gale snapped the book he was reading closed.

“Give her some space,” Shadowheart said, assessing you with her eyes from a few feet away.

Astarion got up and hurried over to you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You smiled at him reassuringly. “I promise I feel well enough to be out here. I just wanted some fresh, Underdark air.” You looked over his shoulder at one of the open chests. “Find anything good?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing worth you getting out of bed for.” He looked you up and down and noticed your change of clothes. He sighed. “I could have helped-”

“I’m fine,” you maintained, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.

Halsin approached the two of you and nodded approvingly. “It is good for her to be up and moving around. It’ll stretch the healing muscles and allow her to join the fray again much more quickly than if she stays in bed all day.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, what do you know?”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart said in warning. “If she says she’s okay, let’s believe her. I’m sure she’ll tell you if something’s wrong this time around, right?” She made pointed eye contact with you. 

You held up your hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”

He watched you closely, narrowing his eyes and sniffing pompously. “Fine.” 

He made no move to leave your side.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the chest he’d been working on, the thieves’ tools still stuck inside the lock. You patted the top of the chest and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Astarion watched you carefully before he made his way back to the chest and sunk to his knees. 

Not far off, Lae’zel was polishing her greatsword. “Does this mean you are well enough to accompany us to the crèche?”

“Well, I-”

“No,” said every other person at camp at once.

“Chk,” Lae’zel thrust her greatsword into the dirt in front of her. “Heal faster.”

“Trying my best,” you said with a shrug. 

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to assessing her greatsword.

“If you’re going to be up and about,” Shadowheart said, “you should probably start packing up your belongings for when we need to enter the Mountain Pass.”

“Augh!” you exclaimed loudly, clutching your side. Astarion was up immediately and you leaned your weight on him, throwing your arms around his neck for support. “So sorry, Shadowheart,” you said in a fake strained tone, “my wound… it prevents me… from hard labor…” You flopped fully into Astarion’s side, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue as if you’d just perished on the spot.

“Oh good,” Astarion said blandly, “she’s finally dead and I can get on with my life.”

You kicked him.

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. “Such a shame she’ll never be able to annoy us again.”

“I’ll haunt you forever…” you murmured, wobbling your voice like a ghost.

 Shadowheart stepped forward and patted your arm. “I’ll ask for blessings from Lady Shar on behalf of your passing.”

“Thank you…” you murmured again.

Astarion bumped his hip into yours forcefully. “Would you get off of me?”

You pulled back and smiled at him. “See? I’m fine.”

He humphed and returned to unlocking the big chest, only to find it full of more thieves' tools. He sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the edge of the chest. You peered inside and laughed.

“Aw,” you said sympathetically and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Let me-” 

“No,” you said firmly. “Keep going through your useless chests, my love. I’ll be right over here.” You walked over to the makeshift kitchen area Gale had set up. 

Astarion watched you go, and you felt his protective eyes remain on you for the remainder of the night. 

~~~~~

It was like that now: Astarion trying to do things for you while you insisted you could do them on your own. 

It had bewildered you when he actually helped you pack for your trip back to the surface. He had little to pack of his own, given that he’d more or less lived in your tent throughout your stay in the Underdark. He was relentlessly cautious with you, insisting that Gale cast Fly on you so that you didn’t have to ascend the impossibly long ladder back up into the Goblin camp. And he rarely let you out of his sight, even when safely surrounded by your other companions. 

The Mountain Pass was beautiful: bathed in what seemed like permanently golden light that had Astarion blooming in the sun’s glow once again. When your group accidentally stumbled into a hostile party of undead while looking for a place to camp, Astarion had taken your hand and pulled you behind him to shield you with his body. 

“I can help!” you’d pleaded, watching your friends sling spells and swords at the skeletons.

“Let us handle this,” Astarion had growled, slashing his daggers through a ghoul that came a little too close to you for comfort. He kept you both to the outskirts of the fight.

Try as you might to help, Astarion held you back, glaring at you for drawing the attention of a ghast when you cast Thunder Wave in its direction. You gave him an apologetic smile before he fatally stabbed the ghast in the chest. 

Bloodied and burnt out, you and your companions finally found a decent place to camp, close to the monastery that Lae’zel was sure housed the crèche. She took the lead on making a plan to enter the building and find the cure that had been promised to her all her life. You sat by the fire, listening idly to her plans, knowing full well that no one - except maybe Lae’zel herself - wanted you fighting so soon after your injury. You also knew that, should the cure be legitimate, your friends would happily accompany you back into the crèche where you could have the tadpole removed. You chose not to linger on the thought of your adventure possibly coming to an end so soon.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion sat by your side, mending a pair of pants. His knee was pressed lightly into your upper thigh as he hunched over the fabric to see his thread better. 

“You could be doing that in my tent, you know,” you said quietly, watching his fingers nimbly weave the fabric back together with needle and thread. “It’s probably easier to see what you’re doing surrounded by candles from all sides than just this fire. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

“I’m quite skilled at seeing in darkness, thank you,” he said, not looking over at you.

You exhaled softly and leaned your head on his shoulder, effectively stretching your right side, which housed your wound. He paused momentarily, then kept going. 

“I’m okay,” you said softly, barely audible above the roaring fire and the heated discussion of possible battle strategy amongst your companions a few feet away. “I’m not going to get hurt like that again.”

Astarion sighed and halted his work on the pants. “You can’t promise that,” he said, sounding annoyed. He spoke his next words quickly, equal parts irritated and vulnerable: “You have no idea what’s coming and neither do I or any of us and I know you’re capable of protecting yourself but the least I can do right now is make sure you heal properly and don’t get hurt again because if I lost you… I wouldn’t know what to do.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the fabric in his lap. “Or… whatever.” 

You smiled softly and lifted your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I adore you.”

He exhaled an amused breath through his nose. “You’re fine, too.” 

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

He sighed dramatically. “It’s been dreadful.”

You laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made.”

He brought his hands up to count on his fingers. “I’ve barely slept, I’ve been drinking animal plonk as opposed to your delicious vintage, I’ve hardly killed anything in the last few days, and I haven’t been able to sleep with you for just as long, if not longer.”

You were glad he wasn’t looking right at you, otherwise he’d surely see the flush on your cheeks. “You’ve been sleeping with me nearly every night.”

He nudged your unwounded side with his elbow. “You know what I mean.”

You smirked. “I miss you too,” you said. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to be giving up all of that for me.”

He leaned his head on top of yours which had found its way back to his shoulder. “Just… heal, would you? You wretched thing.”

You reached your hand to rest on top of his knee. “You must be starving.”

“In more ways than one,” he growled teasingly in your ear. 

“I’m serious.”

“As am I. But your blood stays off limits until I’m sure you’re done bleeding.”

You made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t bled in days, you stubborn leech. And you nearly killed me the first time you drank from me, so really, what’s the difference?”

“Yes, but we weren’t us back then. You were just some bard that I crash landed on a horrid beach with.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed through pursed lips.

Now Astarion bent to kiss your cheek. “I’m just being extra careful, my sweet.” He moved his mouth to your ear. “And… it’ll be all the more exquisite when I finally taste you again.”

“Ah,” you said. “So you’re edging yourself.”

Astarion sputtered, “That’s not-” Then he smirked. “And what would you know about edging?”

You swallowed thickly. “Enough.”

He chuckled darkly. “Noted.”

It was quieter now, as your companions had dispersed to their own tents to prepare for tomorrow’s journey to the crèche. 

Still, Astarion kept his voice down. “I have an important question for you though, my darling.”

“And what would that be?”

“Whose belongings should we peruse first tomorrow while everyone’s gone?”

~~~~~

The only interesting items you’d found while snooping around camp the next day were cheap erotic novels hidden among both Shadowheart’s and Wyll’s possessions. 

Everyone, minus Halsin, who was sticking around the edge of camp planning a way through the Shadow Cursed Lands, had made their way to the crèche only a few hours before. 

“‘The Salty Mermaid,’” you’d said, waggling your eyebrows at Astarion who was rifling through Wyll’s tent. 

“You’ll never believe this, darling.” He turned to show you the same book, its illustrated cover even more worn than the copy you’d found in one of Shadowheart’s bags. 

“Shut up,” you said, leaning forward to snatch the book from his hand and holding the copies side by side. Both depicted a shirtless man gazing into the eyes of a beautiful, topless mermaid, her torso turned tastefully away from view. Their mouths were parted slightly in anticipation of a steaming kiss, ocean mist spraying over them and the rock they were perched on in the middle of the ocean. Wyll’s copy looked as though it had been read dozens of times over the span of many years, while Shadowheart’s was newer and gave the impression that it had been opened frequently, given the way the cover refused to rest against the first page.

“This is outrageous,” Astarion said, sitting behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at both books. 

You turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t take those two for naughty book lovers?”

“What? Oh, no, everyone in this camp is a deeply sad, depraved creature, that’s not it.”

You snorted. “Okay, so what-”

“It’s that they didn’t think to include us in their little book club!” His hand gestured wildly between the covers. “You and I read all the time!”

“We don’t know they’re reading them together,” you pointed out. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

Astarion looked at you skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

You thought for a moment. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Your nights had been occupied spending time with the man currently wrapped delicately around your midsection. You couldn’t be sure that your companions hadn’t started a book club without you. It brought a small smile to your face, imagining your friends bonding with each other without your help.

Astarion didn’t wait for you to answer. “Let’s at least see what all the fuss is about.” He leaned forward slightly, careful not to jostle your right side and took Wyll’s book from your hand. He flipped open to a random page as you set Shadowheart’s book on your lap. You leaned your head against his, which was still resting on your shoulder, and read along with him. He tilted his head slightly to read slowly and seductively in your ear. 

“Fabian ran his calloused fingers along Allura’s scales. Her tail quivered in response.” He held out the “s,” as if hissing, and nipped at your ear.

You flinched in surprise and smacked him gently on the side of the head. 

He chuckled and continued. “‘Taste me,’ Allura pleaded. Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted together like two eels in the Sword Sea.”

You barely withheld a laugh. “Trying to seduce me with eels again, I see.” 

Astarion narrowed his eyes, rereading the passage in disbelief. “Oh, gods dammit.”

You nuzzled the side of his head with your own. “It’s working better this time,” you admitted.

“Oh?” Astarion pulled back and met you with a wicked grin. 

You nodded and watched his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you before pulling back just out of his reach. He opened his eyes and gave you a puzzled expression. 

“I didn’t say it worked completely.” You pushed his nose lightly to turn his face away from yours and back to the book in his hands. 

“Why you-” He dropped the book unceremoniously and brought both his hands to your cheeks to kiss you firmly. You laughed against his mouth before giving in and opening up for him.

“Astarion,” came Halsin’s voice from a few yards away. 

Astarion immediately disconnected the kiss and shot a deadly glare at the bear. 

Halsin hadn’t been looking. Instead he’d been focusing down at what he was holding - a half carved piece of wood, something that was beginning to look like a rabbit. When he finally looked up, he halted in his tracks. 

“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in a showing of peace, “I merely wanted to ask Astarion for a better knife. It appears my proper carving tools are lost somewhere within our wares.”

“Hi Halsin,” you said nonchalantly. 

Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your fun.”

“Fun? What fun? We never have fun.” You nudged Astarion who was still staring daggers at Halsin. 

Astarion sighed and settled his chin back on your shoulder. “Relax, darling, I’m sure Halsin knows all about the kind of fun we have together.” 

Halsin nodded. “Far be it from me to interrupt a spry couple preparing to partake in one of nature’s greatest gifts.”

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned in disgust and you felt your cheeks go red. “You make it sound awful.”

“It’s only natural-”

“Did you check our Traveler’s Chest for your carving tools?” you desperately tried to change the subject. “It’s possible one of us packed them in there by mistake.”

Halsin snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the Traveler’s Chest would be…”

You pointed in the direction of the chest, which was thankfully on the other side of camp. 

Halsin followed your gaze and nodded again. “I shall investigate the chest. Sorry once again.” He started to leave the two of you but turned back around.  “Remember to be careful of your wound.” He gestured to your right side and you absently held your hand to the tender area. “Nothing worse than an injury worsened in the throes of passion.”

“Goodbye, Halsin,” Astarion waved him off. 

Halsin chuckled once more, then left the area. You and Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching him go. 

You looked over at him. “Moment over?”

“So incredibly over,” Astarion lifted his chin from your shoulder and crawled around to sit next to you. “But the druid’s right. You’re still hurt.”

You huffed some hair out of your face. “And you’re still a drama queen.”

Astarion gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Watch this!” 

You stood and leaned your body to the left, stretching your right side and lifting your right arm over your head.

“See?”

Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Impressive. Now stretch the other way.”

You remained upright and ramrod straight. “I don’t want to.”

“Because…?”

“Because…” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck you! You know why.”

“Because you’re still sore-”

“Yes, because I’m still sore.” You sat beside him again and muttered, “killjoy.”

Astarion stood and reached for your hands, holding them in both of his own. “Call me whatever names you like, it won’t change my mind.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly. 

You frowned at him. “Asshole.”

Kiss. “Darling.” 

“Bat brain.”

Kiss. “Beautiful.” 

“Priss.”

Kiss. “My- hey.” He pulled himself back to look down his nose at you. “I’m not a priss,  I’m simply surrounded by frumps. And Shadowheart.”

You scoffed and reached up to brush your hand through his curls, mussing them ever so slightly. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing you away and reaching up to fix his hair. 

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 

He glared back and rolled his eyes. “Did I not just call you ‘beautiful?’”

“One of your frequent pet names,” you waved him off playfully and went to pick up Shadowheart and Wyll’s discarded books. “It means next to nothing.”

Astarion turned to watch you. “That’s not true.”

You laughed. “You call everyone ‘darling.’” 

“That’s different.” 

“How so?”

If he were still alive, you’d be able to feel his body heat as he stepped closer to you. He looked up towards the sky and moved his hands around as if searching for the correct words. 

“‘Darling’ has always been a lovely blanket term of endearment for victims whose names I didn’t bother to learn but needed to entice.”

You stiffened, thrown off by his honest answer. “Oh.”

He met your eye. “People like feeling seen, and ‘darling’ does the job quite nicely. Call it a habit now, I suppose.”

You smirked at him. “You know my name, right?”

He smiled sideways in return. “Who are you again?”

“Good answer.”

“Honestly though, darling,” he said, before shaking his head and saying your name instead. “‘Darling’ isn’t anything special to me, that’s true,” he placed his hands firmly on your upper arms, just below your shoulders, “but you are.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying but failing not to shrink under his intense gaze. “Another good answer.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Look at me, please.” 

You met his eye again and saw his features soften. 

“I’ve never called someone ‘beautiful’ and not meant it.”

You raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. In all the times you had to seduce people, you never called someone you weren’t attracted to ‘beautiful’ just to make things go faster?”

Astarion rubbed absent minded circles into your arms with his thumbs. “In those instances, I preferred referring to them as, ‘striking.’”

You snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“I could say ‘dead serious,’ but that would be atrocious, so I won’t.”

“‘Striking,’” you repeated, laughing a little at the vagueness of it. “I guess that could mean anything.”

Astarion nodded. “Exactly.” He shifted his hands up to your shoulders. “But you, my sweet, are exquisite.” 

You smiled shyly. “I could say ‘aw shucks,’ but then you’d kill me, so I won’t.”

He pushed himself away from you again. “You are infuriating.”

Dropping the books once more, you reached for his wrist as he backed away. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you said as you brought his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me more about how beautiful I am.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before his features settled into a seductive grin. He reached forward and pulled you closer by the waist. His voice was low and flirtatious when he said, “I told you on that first night I had my way with you that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He shifted his head to nip at your ear, “I meant that.”

A shiver went through your body and you closed your eyes. “Really?”

Astarion scoffed. “I wouldn’t willingly attach myself to just anyone, darling.” He kissed your neck. “For one thing, there’s this gorgeous neck of yours.”

You let out an amused sigh. “Go on…”

“Your eyes,” he said, shifting up to bear his crimson gaze into yours, “they sparkle like anything. I can’t say I’ve ever seen eyes more lovely.” You blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He continued, “Especially when you’re laughing. Preferably at something clever I’ve said.”

That made you laugh. “You’re not always as clever as you think.”

He smiled back at you. “So long as I keep seeing that dazzling smile, I shall make a fool of myself.” After a beat, he clarified, “But only for you.”

If you weren’t careful, you might cry. “You sweet, stupid man.”

“Speaking of that smile; that mouth of yours. I could eat you right up.” 

He bent to kiss you deeply but you pulled away to giggle. “And you have!”

“And I have,” he agreed, succeeding in kissing you this time. 

Your mouth moved against his slowly, keeping in time with him, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. As the kiss became more intense, his tongue licking into your mouth, your heart picked up speed, which sent Astarion groaning against your lips.

“That delicious heartbeat,” he said dreamily, breaking the kiss. “It’s as sweet as any song you’ve ever played, my love.”

Your eyes shot open as he brought his face down to your throat again to kiss your pulse point. Based on his body language and the sensual way he continually kissed your neck, you had a feeling he didn’t realize what he’d said. He kept talking.

“Your heartbeat means you're alive,” he placed a kiss on your collarbone. “And that you’re here,” a kiss to your chest. “With me,” a kiss atop your clothed left breast, above your pounding heart. “Not to mention it’s the source of my favorite meal,” he pulled back to look at you with a goofy grin that he quickly morphed into one of seduction. When he saw your bewildered expression, his face fell into one of concern. “What is it?”

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, attempting to keep your composure. “Astarion,” you said, your voice full of adoration, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s wrong?” His tone was instantly serious and stern. “Did something happen?” He inspected your right side as if you may have started bleeding again. 

Laughter bubbled out of your chest at his sudden shift in demeanor. This man cared for you so deeply it almost hurt. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone but himself.

“There’s nothing wrong, dummy,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose to bring his attention back to you. 

He looked at you questioningly and saw nothing but affection in your eyes. “Then…” he leaned in closer, drawn in by the softness of your features, “what is it?”

You leaned in as well, watching his mouth and subconsciously wetting your lips in preparation for what you were about to say. “I…” you eyes began to close, “lo-”

“Tsk'va!”

You and Astarion froze, your mouths inches apart. 

“That wasn’t you, was it?” he muttered. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, swatting his cheek lightly and pulling away.

Lae’zel was standing not too far off, covered in blood, staring at the two of you with an intense ire that had you both nearly jumping away from each other. “You feeble wretches are delighting in intercourse whilst the Lich Queen lies to her kin about purification and I nearly lose my life as a result.”

Astarion straightened and looked at his nails, bored. “Oh, is that all?”

You gave him a look before stepping forward to offer comfort. “What happened?”

Lae’zel looked between you and Astarion before furrowing her brows and marching off to her tent. “She may yet purify me!” she called angrily, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

The rest of your party stumbled into camp not far behind. They, too, were drenched in blood and looking worse for wear. You approached them immediately, Astarion reluctantly on your heels. 

“Is everyone okay?” you quickly looked over everyone and didn’t note any major injuries.

“We’re alright,” Wyll assured and nodded to Shadowheart, “no thanks to Shadowheart.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she groaned. “Let’s see if we survive the night.” She gestured towards Lae’zel who was angrily shedding her armor and shrieking frustratedly with each discarded piece.

You looked back at the others and repeated, “What happened?”

“Our little dream visitor had some rather enlightening news for our githyanki friend,” Gale sighed, wiping his brow. 

“Well hang on now,” Karlach said. “Her people, or rather, some random doctor lady, tried to kill her first!”

Wyll nodded solemnly. “Not to mention that fearsome god of hers threatened our lives.”

You inhaled sharply. Even Astarion looked surprised. “What?”

“Why do the gods favor you people?” Astarion crossed his arms. “They never answered me when I called.”

“Now, now, Astarion,” Gale said, “this was not a meeting on the most benevolent of terms.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “So were you able to kill her or something? Is that why you’re all drenched in what smells like an absurd amount of gith blood?”

“Kill a god?” Wyll laughed lightly. “Be serious, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugged. “I don’t know what you lot are capable of, we just met.”

“‘Just met?!’” Shadowheart scoffed incredulously. “And you think you could have taken on a god? You and what? Those sharp teeth of yours?”

“If you’d like to see what they’re capable of, darling, you need only ask.” He flashed her a malicious grin. 

“Astarion,” you caught his eye and shook your head slightly. 

“If killing that overgrown creep were an option, I gladly would have taken it,” Karlach punched at her open palm. “I can’t stand bullies.”

Halsin now entered the fray. “Peace,” he said calmly. “Everyone should get cleaned up and inspected for injuries, then we can discuss the events of the créche.”

You turned to look for Lae’zel, but her tent was empty. You assumed she’d gotten a jumpstart on the cleaning process. 

“Why is my book in the dirt?!” Shadowheart exclaimed. “Astarion!”

“I think it’s time I go for a hunt,” Astarion kissed you swiftly. “You can handle this, can’t you darling?” Then he took off at a brisk pace down the side of the mountain. 

~~~~~

After Lae’zel and the others had cleaned themselves up and bandaged their shallow wounds, you’d all sat around the fire to discuss what had occurred at the crèche and what the dream visitor had told Lae’zel of Vlaakith’s deception towards the purification process.

That night, Kith’rak Voss and his group of rebel githyanki warriors had visited you and your companions, telling you all that the Astral Prism held the key to Vlaakith’s undoing. He’d also promised to explain more and provide help once you reached Baldur’s Gate. 

“Why must they always be so cryptic,” Astarion had muttered to you from where you stood behind Lae’zel, allowing her to take the lead on this. “If the Prism is a source of unnamed power, then I think we have a right to know about it.” He pouted and you elbowed him lightly. 

As you were preparing to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands the next day, Elminster appeared, bearing a message for Gale from Mystra. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you’d steamed after the old wizard left, “you’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.”

“She’s right,” Astarion agreed. You turned and gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “Sacrificing Gale to the Absolute is a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” When you rolled your eyes, he amended, “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”

“I am touched, Astarion,” Gale said before turning his attention back on you. “Let’s save such certainty about my fate for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.” 

Thus your party kept packing up in preparation to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands, which Halsin had discovered an entrance to, not far from your camp. 

Upon entering, the suffocating nature of the dark hit you instantly, and you felt a shift in your party the more you shuffled into the area. 

Astarion held out an arm to stop you from going any further, away from the lit fire you’d found near the entrance. “Can you feel that?” 

“You mean the impending sense of doom?” Karlach asked. “Yeah, I feel it.”

Astarion ignored her. “The dark, it’s… hungry. Best watch the shadows.”

Lae’zel scoffed. “How can darkness feel anything, let alone require sustenance?”

“That’s not-” Astarion sighed. “Oh, nevermind. Just… stay close to the light.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wyll said, grabbing a torch from the lit fire near the entrance. 

Shadowheart gazed into the distance, straining her eyes to see into the dark. “This place… there’s power in these shadows, I can sense it.”

Astarion snorted. “Shadowheart feeling one with the shadows. A little on the nose there, darling.”

Shadowheart shot him a deathly glare that had him look over at you for protection. You patted his shoulder in response.

“She’s right, though,” Gale agreed. “I’ve never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.”

“Best get a move on, then,” Halsin siad, grabbing a torch in one hand and your party’s ox cart with the other. 

Wyll took the lead with his torch, while the rest of you grabbed your own. You and Astarion brought up the rear as you all made your way through the darkness. He was uncharacteristically quiet as you went. 

“Everything okay?” you asked him quietly, making sure the others wouldn’t be able to hear you. 

Astarion’s eyes were darting around, on high alert, but he looked over at you when you reached for his free hand with your own. “It feels like we’re being watched,” he said, returning his eyes to scanning your surroundings. “Hunted, even. But there’s nothing out there,” he looked in your direction but was focusing on the darkness behind you, “only more darkness.”

You nodded, and joined him in scanning the surrounding area. 

“I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling in the shadows, about to strike.”

“Ooh,” you said, shaking your voice as if telling a scary story, “scaaaary.”

Astarion looked at you with a scowl that you could see was concealing a laugh. “Sorry, did you want something?” He stepped closer to you, bringing his face inches away from yours. “Or just looking for a distraction?” He looked down at your lips. 

“I-” you looked at his lips as well and watched as his mouth formed into a grin. 

“Look alive, lovebirds,” Karlach turned back to face you two. “Movement up ahead.”

Instinctively, Astarion pulled you to him, shielding your right side with his body from possible attacks.

It was then that your party came across a group of Absolute worshippers, seeking passage across the Shadow Cursed Lands to Moonrise Towers with the help of a drider named Kar’niss, who brandished a magical lantern of some kind. You all played along, brandishing your True Soul statuses in order to gain favor and join the cultists on their journey deeper into the shadows. You even offered to play the Spider's Lyre, which Wyll had found and given to you in the Underdark, in order to summon the drider. 

Astarion made it a point of keeping you close, despite the cultists giving you no trouble.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, bumping his hip with your own.

He scoffed. “Oh, so you trust the arachnid is totally sane and won’t turn on us at any given moment?”

“Well-” He made a good point. While Kar’niss had done nothing to prove he was an imminent danger to you, his words were erratic and he’d snapped at you earlier for offering to carry his lantern.

“Wait…” Kar’niss hissed suddenly, holding his lantern aloft in front of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. “Something’s wrong, Majesty.”

“He’s right,” Astarion said quietly, drawing his daggers, “I can sense blood pumping in that building.”

“Should we do something?” Wyll asked.

“Shhh,” Shadowheart hushed. “We don’t know where they are, exactly. Do you want them to spring out at us while they still have the element of surprise?”

“Not particularly,” said Wyll, just as Lae’zel said “Yes,” and drew her greatsword from her back.

“Who’s there?” Kar’niss called. “Show yourself!”

From within the house came a male voice, shouting, “Harpers, attack!” 

“Harpers?” Karlach repeated.

The man continued yelling orders. “Kill the cultists… and get that lantern!”

“HERETICS!” Kar’niss shrieked. “VILLAINS IN THE DARK!”

“Soldier,” Karlach turned to you, a frantic look in her eyes, “Those are Harpers!”

Your own eyes widened. Harpers were known for protecting the innocent from evils across the realms. It made sense why they would want to attack cultists of the Absolute. 

“Wait!” you shouted and ran forward as Astarion called your name, trying to stop you. “We can help!” You spoke to the man leading this gang of Harpers.

The man looked you up and down as Astarion approached you with his knives still drawn, ready to pounce. “Hurt her, and you die,” he growled, dropping into a low stance.

You exhaled. “Sorry about the guard dog.”

“Careful,” Astarion said lowly, “I bite.” He gnashed his teeth at the group of Harpers surveying you closely. 

A woman with long curly hair stepped forward. “Prove we can trust you.”

You nodded and took your lute off your back, strumming a quick tune that had the deep purple magic of Shatter sparking at your fingertips. You turned back towards the cultists, who were now sandwiched between the Harpers and your party. You friends took the hint and drew their own weapons. 

“What are they doing?” Kar’niss eclaimed. “We thought they were True Souls! Traitors! Heathens!”

“Darling, are you sure about this?” Astarion asked, watching you carefully, checking for any signs that you weren’t ready to fight. 

You looked over at him and winked, casting a powerful Shatter that sent the cultists flying in every direction. 

The battle that followed was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, thanks to the help from the Harpers. Astarion had remained by your side the whole time, maneuvering the two of you out of the way whenever an attack landed closeby. He dutifully shielded your right side, stabbing the hobgoblin rather brutally when he lunged at you. 

When the battle ended and it was clear that no one had been injured too severely, you approached Kar’niss’ lantern and picked it up. Its chilly glow appeared to protect you all far better from the Shadow Curse than your long since discarded torches. 

The male Harper who you’d pleaded to at the start of the battle now approached you. “Incredible magic,” he said, indicating the lantern. “I can feel the light lifting the shadows - even those within me.”

Astarion laughed quietly at his remark, and you kicked the vampire in the shin. 

“Find us at the Last Light Inn,” the Harper said, pulling out a map and pointing to a small building by the river. 

“Thank you,” you said, marking the location on your own map.

“Be safe,” he said with a nod. “And be brave. We expect no less. Thank you for your help.” With that, he and his other Harpers made their way deeper into the shadows, accompanied by their own torches. 

“Could we not have gone with them?” Karlach asked.

“Probably had other Harperly duties to take care of,” Gale reasoned. 

“We should probably start heading that way anyway,” you said. “My magic’s depleted and I could use some sleep.”

“Agreed,” Halsin said, stretching his arms above his head and grabbing the ox cart once again. “It will be a relief to rest these weary bones upon a mattress for once.”

“Hmm,” Shadowheart mused, “is grass not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Far from it,” Halsin said. “But even I can appreciate the pleasures of a warm bed every once in a while.”

~~~~~

“Unfortunately, there is only one room available,” Jaheira said flatly when you all entered the inn and approached her at her desk.

Astarion scoffed. “Didn’t you just say outside that there were beds, plural, if we needed rest?” 

“It would seem I lied,” she said, looking through a book that you assumed showed current room assignments. “Oops.” She didn’t sound remorseful. “Looks like you’ll have to decide amongst yourselves who gets the room. The rest of you can make camp in the back. There’s plenty of room under Isobel’s light to keep you sheltered from the Curse.”

“Thank you, Jaheira!” Karlach said excitedly.

Jaheira smiled at Karlach’s enthusiasm and held out a goblet of wine to her. “Please,” she said, her tone suddenly very kind, “be welcome.” She handed a goblet to you as well. “Have a drink.”

“Oh my gods,” Karlach muttered, sharing an excited look with you. 

“To your very good health,” Jaheira said, raising her own cup towards all of you. 

Karlach was practically vibrating with excitement next to you. 

“You’ll have to excuse my friend, Karlach,” you said with a smile. “She’s very excited to meet you.”

She giggled, embarrassed. “Tsh. Yeah.” Her face fell just then, as if realizing she wasn’t being formal enough with her hero. She stooped into a low bow. “I mean… It's an honor. M’lady.”

“I will gladly drink to your health as well, Karlach.” Jaheira’s eyes sparkled with amusement. 

You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin.

“You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief. 

“I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth. 

Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.”

Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion. 

He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. 

“It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.”

“Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?”

“Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.” 

“She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper. 

“Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.”

Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. 

He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira.

Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. 

“Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet.

“You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. 

Shadowheart laughed. “Isn’t the whole reason you’re being so dramatic because your mate almost died?”

“Watch yourself, cleric,” his words were icy, but Shadowheart couldn’t contain her snort.

Jaheira took another sip. “Well over a century old and yet it hasn’t lost a hint of its flavor.”

“Let’s have a taste, then,” Wyll pushed his way forward and took the goblet from you.

“I must see for myself if Astarion’s suspicions are warranted,” Lae’zel took Karlach’s goblet, “and if the wine is as good as this woman says.”

“No, no,” Astarion said sarcastically, “let’s all partake in the poison! Shadowheart? Gale? Halsin? What’s stopping you?”

Shadowheart crossed her arms. “I’ve packed my own wine that I don’t plan on sharing with you all, thank you very much.”

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be reading a book he’d found discarded somewhere in the bar. “Pardon? Is something the matter?”

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to Halsin who held up his hands in surrender.

“I rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head. I doubt anyone wants to see that.”

“Mmm, yes, save it.” Astarion turned back to you and the others. “So we’re all going to tell the truth now, that’s great. Go ahead, Jaheira, ask away.”

“There’s an air about you,” she said, addressing you instead of the seething vampire to your right. “Something… alien.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Astarion muttered.

“Answer me true and do not lie,” she didn’t flinch when Astarion scoffed, and pressed on. “The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?”

You could feel the effects of the serum willing your mouth to form a truthful answer. You let it. “It’s trying to change me. To win me over. But I’m resisting its temptations.”

Jaheira looked you up and down. “And you’re certain you will continue to resist?” 

You nodded. “Yes.” The truth.

“Good,” you saw Jaheira’s shoulders relax. “I will take your word for it. And hold you to it, too.”

You looked over at Astarion, whose arms were still crossed. He scowled at Jaheira who turned to address him this time.

“I have every reason to be cautious.” She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve traced people like you.”

“Oh, have you.” Astarion rolled his eyes for what was likely the tenth time this evening.

Jaheira tilted her head. “People with parasites in their brains. All the way here from Baldur’s Gate.”

“A long journey, indeed,” Gale said.

Astarion laughed humorlessly. “Good of you to finally join us, Gale.”

Wyll cleared his throat. “And what of the city?” 

Jaheira turned to him this time. “The cult of the Absolute is spreading through the Gate. Quietly, quickly, and with unsettling deliberation.” 

“Gods…” Wyll breathed. “My father…” Gale patted his arm reassuringly.

“We tracked them to this ancient village,” Jaheira looked down at a map in front of her displaying the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands, and pointed to a village not far off, “only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.” 

“Who was - is - he?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

Jaheira paused briefly when she saw Karlach yawn. “General Ketheric Thorm. Remember that name. He’s the leader of the Absolutists.”

“How can we help?” you stepped forward, determined.

“Ugh,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, my sweet, is now the time to be playing hero?”

“The vampire is right,” said Jaheira. “We can save this discussion for the morning.”

“Vampire?” Astarion repeated, laughing lightly. “What do you- I’m not-” He slumped. “What gave it away?”

She smirked. “Nearly everything about you. And I have experience with your kind.”

You and your companions snickered, and Astarion shot you all death glares. 

“Yes well… it’s been such a delight chatting with you, Jaheira, but I think now’s the time to discuss the room situation.” Astarion turned around so that his back faced Jaheira, effectively cutting her out of the conversation. 

She laughed. “When you decide who gets the room, it’s next to the bar, on the right.” Just as she was about to leave and take care of other matters, she turned back. “Do keep it down if it’s you two who get the room,” she gestured to you and Astarion. “The walls aren’t as thick here as you think they are. Those sitting around the bar will hear you and tell me all about it and I’d… prefer to remain in the dark if it’s all the same to you.”

“Jaheira!” Astarion scoffed. “What do you think of me?”

“Prove me wrong, vampling,” she winked at you and went on her way.

Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips. “Go on, Astarion. Make a case for why the two of you are in desperate need of the room.”

Astarion looked at his nails. “Well, darling, it’s just that we’ve had such little time to ourselves-”

Halsin interrupted. “I’m… going to set up camp outside. I yield my claim to the room and will gladly sleep under the stars. Or… I suppose there are no stars here. Regardless-” he turned on his heel and walked out the front door to reunite with your ox cart full of camp supplies.

“I’ll join him,” said Wyll.

“Right behind you,” Karlach agreed.

“Okay,” Gale looked around at those remaining. “That leaves four of us, considering you two as a unit.” He pointed between you and Astarion, the latter of which looked offended, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he had a chance to argue.

Lae’zel adjusted her greatsword in her arms. “It is tradition among githyanki that those who performed best in battle should have the most comfortable sleeping chambers.”

Gale furrowed his brow. “Is that true? I’ve yet to read anything about that in my extended research on the githyanki people.”

Lae’zel shrugged.

Shadowheart spoke next. “It’s just that I drained so much of my magic healing everyone on the battlefield today. I think I deserve to sleep in comfort to replenish my power since we have no clue what tomorrow brings.” Then she quickly added, “Since we’re in her domain, I’d say it’s as if Lady Shar herself wills it.”

Astarion snorted. “Like hells she does.” He turned to Gale. “And what’s your excuse?”

“The knees,” Gale said, bending his knees for you all to hear an audible crack. “Too many nights on the ground will do no favors for one’s aching joints.”

You could see where this was going. There would be a constant back and forth until a loud argument inevitably broke out in the middle of the inn. You knew it was a bit devious, but you decided to get the jumpstart on ending the argument. 

You took Astarion’s hand. “Come on, Astarion,” you said with a sigh, “we can rough it outside for another night.”

He didn’t budge. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“I am serious- Oh.” you paused in trying to get Astarion to follow you and reached for your right side. “Ow,” you said slowly.

Astarion said your name, his voice laced with worry.

“Oh gods,” you blinked your eyes several times, tears filling your vision.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Astarion brushed hair out of your face and placed his hands on your cheeks. 

“I don’t know,” you said shakily. “I suddenly got a sharp pain in my side. I think my wound may have opened again.” 

“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and held out her hand to scan you for injuries with her magic. “You know what, if it’s that important to you, you can have it.” With that, she left after the others.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked. 

“I know what would make her feel better,” Astarion said, catching on to your ruse. 

“Do not say the room,” Lae’zel glowered at him.

“The room,” Astarion said anyway. 

“Chk,” she spat. “Fine. Have your precious alone time. But when they kick you out for pleasuring each other too loudly, I get the room in your stead.”

“Uh… if that’s the case, she can have it after you two.” Gale smiled painfully. “I shall concede as well. If only so I can grab some shut eye without your loud-”

“Ooowww,” you moaned.

“Good gods, man!” Astarion exclaimed, clutching you to his chest as if you were made of glass. “How can you think of sex at a time like this! My precious treasure is wounded!”

“I mean, Lae’zel alluded to it first-” Gale pointed to where Lae’zel had been standing, only to see that she had already left. “Ah. I guess I’ll take my leave as well.”

“Ow! Gods, it hurts!” you wailed.

“Get out of here!” Astarion practically yelled at the wizard.

Gale sighed. “Goodnight you two.”

“Goodnight Gale!” you called after him sweetly.

When he turned back to look at you, you were limp in Astarion’s arms, one of your own arms thrown dramatically over your eyes.

“Now look what you’ve done!” It was Astarion’s turn to wail. 

“Alright!” Gale turned and held up his hands in frustration. “I’m going!”

When he was finally gone, Astarion pulled you into him for a long, passionate kiss. “You are the perfect woman,” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll have to remind you of that the next time I annoy you,” you laughed and took his hand, leading him to the room.

Jaheira’s voice sounded from the second floor, “I would appreciate it if you did not yell while my Harpers and our guests are trying to sleep.” Despite her stern tone, her expression revealed mild amusement. 

“Sorry, Jaheira,” you whispered loud enough for her to hear you from the railing she bent over. 

“Good night, cubs.” She waved her hand and left you and Astarion to settle into your room.

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (WHOOPS!) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?” 

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him. 

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown. 

Fuck. 

You wanted the day to be over. 

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right? 

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation. 

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart. 

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak. 

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return. 

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do. 

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness. 

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked. 

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye. 

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out. 

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault. 

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day. 

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school. 

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee. 

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows. 

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied. 

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. 

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. 

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow. 

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now. 

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words. 

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?” 

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected. 

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished. 

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee. 

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly. 

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.” 

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft. 

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly. 

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine. 

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash. 

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you. 

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes. 

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away. 

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed. 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body. 

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck. 

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar. 

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs. 

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.” 

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled. 

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine. 

“Joel,” you whined. 

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours. 

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat. 

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear. 

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear. 

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved. 

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.” 

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing. 

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless. 

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing. 

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair. 

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek. 

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you. 

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly. 

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him. 

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand. 

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together. 

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered. 

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you. 

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch. 

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased. 

“I just don’t like them!” You defended. 

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms. 

“Your turn,” you sighed. 

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned. 

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face. 

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.” 

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected. 

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften. 

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest. 

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you. 

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered. 

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you. 

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks. 

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed. 

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled. 

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier. 

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence. 

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room. 

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously. 

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it. 

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it. 

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand. 

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head. 

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver. 

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking. 

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

[tealvenetianmask]

Some thoughts on Blitz having combined type ADHD and why it matters to me . . .

First, I'm not negating other neurodivergences that he might have or other roots of his issues. I do think he also has dyslexia, and I also think his father didn't bother to get him much of an education. And yes, a lot of the traits I'm about to write about overlap too with ASD and various trauma responses. Comorbidity is real, and we're talking about fiction and only have so much to go on. Your interpretations/ways of diagnosing him are valid even if they don't match mine. Cool? Okay, let's go.

Inattentive symptoms. Blitz's plans come off as disorganized/chaotic, he doesn't do paperwork, doesn't know what insurance is, and visibly zones out during some conversations. He also hyperfocuses when something strikes an emotional cord, i.e. following M&M and looking for his sister, and can't focus on anything else. Random tangents and doodles seem to be a regular part of his workday. He can do fucking somersaults in midair but falls on his cute little face when he's not paying attention to where he's walking.

Hyperactive symptoms. He's bursting with energy and almost always seems ready to get up and go. He's randomly climbing things/sitting weird in chairs all the time, even as an adult. I thought this was an imp trait. Other imps don't do this. It's a Blitz trait. He speaks without thinking a lot and seems to process things out loud.

Strengths. He's calm and strategic in a crisis. He's creative and excited about his own ideas. He's at home in chaos and makes chaos WORK for him. He improvises. He's always wanted to be the boss of his own company and do things his own way. I love him so much. I love that being different/original/chaotic is portrayed so positively.

RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria). Without going into Blitz's everything, the gist is that behind the front that he doesn't care, Blitz is super sensitive to being rejected and spends a lot of time scared that rejection is going to happen. Look at him at the end of Ozzie's. Listen. This can be caused by A LOT of things, but it's super common with ADHD too, mostly because we have a ton of experience with being rejected and trouble predicting when it's going to happen. Among everything that's happened to him, Blitz had lots of "not good enough" moments as a kid.

There's a lot more. I was going to do screenshots but got overwhelmed by how many episodes I'd have to sift through.

Why I care:

I'm feeling well represented of course. So often, the person with ADHD in a piece of media is a kid, or if they're an adult, they're the primarily inattentive type. I'm still hyperactive in adulthood, and when I'm not masking enough, my behavior gets misunderstood a lot (some of this also comes from being a woman, but since I'm talking about a male character here . . . another time). It's fun and affirming to see a character in fiction who's not masking his ADHD much (because he really isn't good at that lol) and has a ton of issues but kind of rocks at being himself anyway.