#the choices will be there at the end of each part

[lunameimei]

Eddie whines about how his life was great before Venom... WRONG ❗

Your life was great with Anne! But you ruined it and were going to jumр оff a bridgе, you piece of a piece >:[[[[

Like

I get it

In the first movie they just met, in the second they were were suffocating by everyday problems a joke about how the couple's romantic period ended and began a routine but in the THIRD movie??

You expect their relationship to develop, not suddenly regress.

Symbrock has gone from queer coding to queer baiting. And it's really depressing.

“Venom definitely isn’t permanently dead don’t be sad”

I’m not upset Venom died and I’m not worried it’s permanent, I’m mad that their relationship and character development somehow regressed. I’m upset that it looked like Eddie didn’t give a shit that his “best friend in the whole world” just died for his sake in front of him. And instead of giving us any sort of emotional reaction from Eddie we got what looks like a TikTok edit made by a fourteen year old on CapCut. Eddie should have at least, like, cried or something. Though realistically that man should have been sobbing on the ground screaming “please don’t leave me! I need you!” In the first movie when Venom is sacrificing himself Eddie shouts “Venom no!!!” And they had been together for, like, three days. You really telling me that the death of your year long companion doesn’t make you shed a single tear???

Also! All of this is emphasized by the fact that Eddie spent the entire movie bitching and moaning about how much stuff sucked that when Venom died it kind of came across as Eddie being relieved of Venom as a burden on his life. It kind of seemed like Eddie was happy about this outcome and it left a bad taste in my mouth.

[satorulovebot]

so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter one

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — you get the chance to meet the infamous gojou satoru while working on your journalism project at suzuka circuit. what could you possibly want from him?

✧₊⁺ word count — 6.3k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), age gap, alcohol use, mature themes, mentions of cheating, substance abuse, themes of marriage and divorce

✧₊⁺ notes — hello everyone! i asked you awhile ago on a poll which series you would like to see after cursed seas and f1 gojo won the poll and then i posted the masterlist and everyone wants it so you get it now. so here it is. and NO its not happy NEVER expect happiness from me because im allergic to it. also the reader being nosy af is inspired by me and my parents telling me i should be a journalist with how nosy i am.

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

next chap. (coming soon)

You moved to Tokyo with your family when you were younger.

You grew up in a rural part of the country, surrounded by farmers and people either ready to retire or nearing the end of their lives. Your parents hated living there, and so did you—for one, there were hardly any kids to play with, and two, as your father would say, "too many old fuckers lying around."

When you moved to Tokyo, your family decided to celebrate by taking you to a Formula 1 race. Your dad thought it would be perfect for the two of you since fixing up old cars had always been your daddy-daughter activity.

You didn’t like the idea of racing at first—the noise was too loud, and the idea of people speeding toward a black-and-white checkered line seemed ridiculous. But the moment you heard the roar of the engines and watched the lights go from red to green, you were captivated, a fascination that would stay with you for years.

When you got your first computer, you began looking up videos of F1 drivers. One day, you stumbled across a video titled “The Biggest F1 Scandals in History,” and that was when you decided you wanted to go into journalism.

You were nosy, to say the least. So, it was no surprise to your parents when you announced to them that you wanted to pursue journalism as a career. Your father reminded you how you’d always been curious, listening in on others’ conversations and keeping up with the latest school drama.

When you applied for journalism school, you were accepted into one of the top programs in the world—Sophia University. Your parents were proud that you’d made it into such a highly ranked school for journalism in Japan.

You were now in your fourth and final year at Sophia, and enjoying your journalism class. Recently, your professor assigned a project: write a story about a major pop culture figure of your choice, and for extra credit, get an interview with them. Your professor knew it was damn near impossible, but he was always optimistic that one day, someone would get that interview and he could retire in peace.

That project led you here: Suzuka Circuit, Japan's main Formula 1 track. Your chosen figure was none other than Gojou Satoru—F1's biggest driver in recent years. He was your father's favorite among the new-generation drivers, known for his string of controversies since he started on top of the persistent rumors of his heavy drug use before races.

You had managed to snag a media passs from your professor when you mentioned doing an F1 driver for your project. He was able to pull some strings to get you into the media booth, getting you a closer look at Gojou Satoru in person.

You watched the pre-race preparations closely from the media booth, your fingers hovered above your notepad as you waited for the race to start. You were determined to get a good grade on this project, and that meant adding every single detail to your report about this race.

It was about time for the drivers to gather in their garages, each wearing headsets and ready for the pre-race briefing. The briefing typically covers the race start, various pit stop scenarios, and a detailed weather report. Before each race weekend, they usually spend time in a simulator of the track they'll be racing on, preparing them for the upcoming race.

After about thirty-minutes the racers came out of their garages in their respective cars. They each line up based on the results of a quaifying session that takes place before the race, slowest qualifier in the back, fastest in the front. Gojou Satoru was at the front of the grid, which meant he was one of the qualifiers who had the fastest time.

You waited around for a little while longer turning your attention to what was happening around you. Eventually, you made your way back to the front of the media booth as the race started, ready to report.

The engines revved as each driver began preparing for the start of the race, each car vibrating on the starting grid like a beast straining at its chains. Gojou sat at the front of the lineup, his hands loose on the wheel, fingers tapping in a steady rhythm as he waited for the lights to turn green.

The roar from the grandstands faded, becoming a blur of sound as the lights ticked down: red, red, red, red… green.

He slammed the throttle, feeling the raw force of the car’s engine kick him back into his seat as he tore down the straight. Other cars jostled for position behind him, all fighting to claim the inside line into the first turn.

Through his earpiece, he heard the voice of his race engineer, Shokou, calm as ever. “Clear on turn two, you’ve got five-tenths on Hayashi. Stay tight.”

But Gojou barley heard her. The car was an extension of him, responding to his every thought, every split-second decision. He pushed down the straights, his right foot heavy on the accelerator, taking corners at speeds most drivers wouldn’t dare attempt. The sound of his tires skidding against the asphalt, the blur of the track side barriers, the lights of Tokyo reflecting off his mirrors—it all blended into a single, perfect rush.

Gojou could see the next turn ahead, a tight chicane that could send the best drivers into the barriers if they weren't careful. He braked hard, turning the wheel with perfect precision to angle the car through. He could feel the back end wobbling, but he didn't flinch, drifting perfectly as he swung back onto the racing line, gaining another second on the pack.

He could almost hear the collective gasp of the crowd in his head as he slipped through the chicane. This was his playground. Every race was a chance to remind the world why he was the best.

“Coming up on a DRS zone,” Shoko’s voice crackled in his ear, grounding him, though he was already on it

He waited for the perfect moment, watching the rear-view mirror to see the faint outline of Hayashi's car. He pressed the DRS, and his car shot forward, the drag reduction giving him a temporary speed boost that had him pulling away, putting him in the lead.

The track opened up ahead, the second sector full of wide, sweeping turns. Here was where raw speed mattered more than anything. Gojou pressed down hard on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response. He leaned forward, watching the track fly by, the white lines blurring as he focused entirely on the road ahead.

For a second, the sound in his earpiece went dead, the faint sound of static filling his ears. Then Shokou was back. “You’ve got Yoshida closing in on your tail. He’s pushing hard.”

Gojou glanced up at the mirrors, his eyes catching the bright blue and orange of Yoshida's car looming larger. The familiar thrill sparked in him. So, Yoshida thought he had a chance, did he? Well, he’d show him otherwise.

“Copy,” he muttered into his mic, eyes narrowing as he took the next corner, barley touching the brakes. He felt the tires skid but he managed to control the drift, knowing any slip would open the door for Yoshida to slip past.

He whipped into another straight, his hands steady on the wheel as he hit a top speed.

His foot didn’t so much as twitch as the engine’s roar morphed into a high-pitched scream as the car closed the distance.

The curve ahead was brutal—a tight 90-degree bend that demanded precise timing.

In a split-second decision, he did something no one expected. He braked late, his heart pounding as he cut the turn at a speed that sent the back end skidding. The tires gripped just in time, allowing him to pull out of the corner without losing traction. He could almost feel the shock reverberating as he regained control, his lead still intact.

As the laps wore on, his body moved on instinct, every gear shift, every turn becoming a single, fluid motion. One lap. Two. Three, with two pit stops between. He counted them off one by one, his mind buzzing with the pure rush of speed and the heat inside the car, barely noticing the time passing. The crowd faded into nothing, the world shrinking down to the track and his car.

The final lap. This was it.

“Box this lap if you’re in trouble,” Shokou’s voice crackled again. “Tire degradation is high.”

But Gojou’s grip on the steering wheel only tightened. His front tires were holding out—barely. It would be tight, but he could make it. He’d run this last lap on sheer determination alone if he had to.

“Negative, Shokou. I’m taking it,” he replied, and then turned off the earpiece, tuning out everything except the track and the car in front of him.

He launched into the final lap, throwing caution to the wind. Yoshida was right on his tail now, close enough that he could see the gleam of his headlights in the mirrors. But Gojou didn’t back down. He took each turn aggressively, blocking Yoshida's attempts to pass, forcing him to fall back every time.

The last chicane loomed ahead, his final obstacle before the finish line. He tightened his grip, the wheel trembling under his hands. He took the chicane fast, too fast, almost feeling the wheels lift off the ground as he flew out of the turn. The car rocked, but he held steady, pushing the pedal to the floor.

The finish line was in sight, a faint white line at the end of the straight, and with one last push, he crossed it, the checkered flag waving in his periphery as he tore past.

It was only after he’d crossed over the line that the realization hit him—he’d won.

The cheers erupted in the stands, the roar of the crowd filling his ears as he slowed down, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He could hear Shoko’s voice crackling back in as she shouted, “You pulled it off, you insane bastard.”

Gojou grinned, leaning back in his seat, still buzzing. He’d done it again, just as he always did.

The moment he climbed out of the cockpit, Gojou was surrounded by his team. Shokou was the first to reach him, her usually composed face split by a wide grin. She grabbed his helmet and thumped him on the shoulder hard enough so he actually felt it though the layers of his suit.

“You reckless son of a—”

“Language, Shokou,” Gojou interrupted, grinning as he yanked off his gloves, waving to the rest of the Tokyo Jujutsu Racing team that swarmed him.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you pull stunts like that? I’m gonna need a raise after today’s heart attack,” she muttered.

“Oh, come on, Shokou. That was just a little fun.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Where’s my confetti?”

“Coming right up, your royal highness." Someone handed him a bottle of champagne, still cold and slick, and he twisted the cap, spraying a wild arc of foam that showered his team and nearby fans.

His PR manager, Nanami, clapped him on the back. “You’re insufferable."

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, lifting the champagne bottle in a mock toast, flashing him a grin. The media’s cameras clicked and flashed, capturing every moment as his crew continued their congratulations.

The crowd pressed close against the barriers, shouting his name, waving homemade banners with scribbled slogans and his number embellished with the colors red and black. He walked closer, one arm raised, acknowledging the fans, letting their cheers fill him up, louder and louder with every step.

But as he continued walking, his gaze caught on something—or rather, someone—just beyond the crowd.

At first it was just a hint curiosity, the way your gaze was fixed on him. A bit removed from the chaos, you leaned against one of the barriers with a media pass hanging around your neck, arms folded as you watched from a distance.

Gojou slightly narrowed his eyes, holding your gaze longer than he'd held any fan's tonight, as if he was daring you to look away first.

“What the hell is that about?” he muttered under his breath, gaze moving back to Shokou for half a second.

“Hm?” Shokou followed his gaze, but her eyes slid right past you, uninterested. “Press. You’ll get used to it. Come on, they’re all waiting.”

He forced himself to break the stare, clearing his throat as Shokou ushered him toward the media pen, where a lineup of journalists waited, all armed with recorders, microphones, and notebooks.

He fielded the usual questions—how did it feel to win, what was his mindset, what was he thinking on that last turn? His answers were always the same practiced ones, words sliding out like clockwork.

“Well, Mr. Gojou, what would you say to those who believe your racing style is a little… aggressive?” one journalist asked, a little smirk on her face as if she thought she was catching him off guard.

He snorted. “They can call it what they want. I call it winning.” He shrugged. “I don’t come out here to play it safe.”

A few reporters laughed at his remark, clearly interested in what else he had to say as a fresh wave of questions started.

Somewhere behind the flashing lights, he saw you again, lingering a few feet behind the crowd of reporters with that calm gaze fixed on him. You didn’t raise a recorder or a camera, didn’t even make an effort to push closer for a question. You just… watched.

It was disconcerting.

“Gojou!” Another journalist waved a microphone his face, snapping his attention back to the current situation. “What’s the next step for you this season?”

He forced a smile, eyes briefly looking back to you before he focused on the question. “The same as always,” he said. “Push harder, get faster, and give everyone something to talk about.”

The crowd laughed again, though, he barely heard them, too focused on the strange woman staring right into his soul. The two of you locked eyes and you have him a small nod, as if acknowledging that you were in fact staring into his soul.

“Well, I think that’s enough,” Shokou said suddenly at his elbow, pulling him out of his thoughts. “They’ll have plenty of time to hound you later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, though he let her guide him away. Still, he couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of you.

But you were already gone.

Gojou slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the bustling garage and dodging the congratulatory slaps on his back, the endless rounds of handshakes, and the celebratory shouts. He ducked past a few journalists, ignoring the barrage of questions still hurled his way, his smile slipping as he finally found the door to the bathroom.

Inside, the cool, sterile silence was jarring compared to the noise outside, but he let out a sigh of relief, his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked the lock and leaned against the sink, running his hands over his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

The victory high had worn off, leaving behind a familiar pressure he could not cope with. It settled on his shoulders like an old, unwelcome friend.

He hadn't realized how much tension he was carrying in his shoulders, how deeply it would itself into him when he was alone. The race had been perfect, his win flawless, but he could feel the exhaustion radiating off of him, a pulsing throb being his eyes. He clenched his jaw, glaring at himself in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

But his words fell flat, swallowed up by the silence. In the mirror, his own eyes stared back at him, tired, almost hollow.

He reached into the pocket of his racing suit, fingers brushing over the small, familiar packet hidden in the inner lining. It was a stupid habit, a reckless one really, but it was one he hadn't been able to shake, no matter how many times he tried to quit. He could practically feel the temporary relief in the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, running his thumb along the edge of the packet before pulling it out, setting it on the counter next to the sink. He ripped it open tapping a small line onto the smooth counter top. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own, as if it was part of his routine of suiting up or gripping the wheel.

The powder glinted under the bathroom’s harsh fluorescent lights, almost mocking him with its simplicity. Just a quick escape, just enough to take the edge off. That’s all he needed.

He leaned down, closing one nostril and inhaling sharply, feeling the sting as the powder hit his nose. He straightened his back, blinking hard, the world around him sharpening as his mind cleared. A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

He leaned back against the sink, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat slow, the tension in his muscles fading away.

But it didn’t take long for the guilt to creep back in, that hollow feeling settling in his chest, a reminder that this wasn't the answer. He knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing to himself, how he was destroying his body from the inside out, how it could all come crashing down. And yet… here he was.

“Fucking pathetic,” he muttered to himself, his voice echoing against the tiles.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, jolting him back to reality.

“Gojou? You in there?” It was Shokou. “They’re waiting for you out here.”

He stuffed the empty packet back into his pocket, brushed the last of the substance off of the sink, and glanced in the mirror one last time to check his reflection, making sure there was no trace left of his momentary escape.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, forced a smirk, and unlocked the door.

Shokou was standing there, arms crossed, her gaze scrutinizing as he stepped out. She didn’t say anything, but her judgmental eye lingered over him for a split second too long.

“You good?”

“Never better."

“Right,” she said, clearly unconvinced, but she dropped it, gesturing for him to follow her.

As the celebrations continued, Gojou weaved his way through fans and team-members alike who were still wrapped up in their post-race celebrations. He scanned the crowd, hoping to find the strange woman from earlier who he noticed had a press pass, thinking you would be here.

And then he saw you, leaning against a stack of crates near the garages, observing the current scene with the same judgmental eyes that Shokou had. The media badge hung from your neck, swaying slightly as you shifted your weight, pulling out a notebook and flipping through it, seemingly absorbed in what you were currently doing.

He cleared his throat as he approached, the echo of his footsteps giving his presence away.

You looked up, your brow raised as he came closer, a hint of intrigue flashing in your eyes.

“Looking for something?” you asked, not moving as he stopped in front of you.

“You could say that,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets, his gaze darted to the notebook in your hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, off in the shadows. Didn’t feel like joining the crowd?”

“Not my style.” You shrugged. “I’m not here to cheer. I’m here to report.”

“Journalist, huh?” he drawled, tilting his head. “What’s your angle?”

“The truth,” you said, a little smile pulling at your lips as you studied him. “Not everyone’s a fan of that, I know.”

“Depends on what you call the truth. But I’ve got a feeling you’ve already got your version.”

"How perceptive. I’m doing a piece on your racing career, your achievements, but… the public wants a fuller picture, don’t you think?

“Not sure I follow. Everyone knows what they need to know.”

“Not quite,” you replied, flipping through your notebook. “There’s more than just racing stats when it comes to Gojou Satoru, isn’t there?”

“Care to elaborate?”

“People say you’re… unraveling. Your recent ‘questionable decisions’ are starting to paint a different picture, don’t you think?” you said, tapping your pen against your notebook. “The accidents, the fines, the constant change in pit crews—”

“Is this some kind of witch hunt?” he interrupted. “Because I’d hate to disappoint you, princess, but I’ve heard it all.”

“Maybe so.” You leaned in a bit, meeting his stare. “But what about the whispers that aren’t out yet? The suspicions about you cheating the drug tests, your team shielding you—” You paused. “There’s a lot of money on your success, Mr. Gojou.”

“Money and racing have always gone hand-in-hand, don’t you think? You’d have a hard time finding someone out here who hasn’t bent a rule or two.”

“True enough.” You titled your head slightly. “But even the most golden careers have a way of losing their shine.”

"Tell me—do you enjoy tearing people down for a living?”

“Only if it’s warranted,” you replied unfazed. “People aren’t interested in perfect stories. They want the flaws, the dirt. It makes it all more real. At least that's what my professor believes."

“You’ve got a wicked mind, I’ll give you that. But I hope you realize you’re not the first to come sniffing around for the ‘real story’.”

A pregnant pause settles between you before you asked, “And what about her?”

A beat passed before he answered. “Who?”

“Your wife. She’s been… noticeably absent from the press circuits. And rumor has it things aren’t exactly picture-perfect between you two.”

“Rumor has it,” he repeated. “Guess you know how it is in this business. There’s always some rumor or another.”

“So it’s just a rumor, then? All the time apart, the missed events, her name suddenly missing from every headline. You’re saying there’s nothing to it?”

“People are eager to make stories out of nothing. My private life is just that—private.”

“That’s interesting,” you murmured, not looking away. “Because the most recent stories about you and her—they’re awfully detailed. People are noticing, wondering why she’s suddenly… disappeared from the scene.”

“Let them wonder. Like I said, people will talk. And it seems like you’re more interested in gossip than journalism.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Journalism is about uncovering the truth,” you countered. “But it seems like you’re more comfortable brushing things under the rug than addressing them.”

His smile returned, his carefully crafted facade sliding back into place as he straightened up, glancing away from you, clearly bored of the conversation. "Maybe someday you'll get the truth you're so desperate for, but it's not going to be today."

Before he walked away completely, he gave you one last look, his tone playful but laced with a hint of warning. “Be careful what you dig up, princess. Sometimes the truth’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

And with that, he turned his back to you, disappearing into the crowd.

Gojou returned home after the long night of celebrations had died down, the adrenaline from the race long gone, now replaced by a gnawing emptiness that felt like it might hollow him out. His penthouse was in the hear of Tokyo—a sleek, modern apartment with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the neon-drenched skyline.

As he opened the door, the soft him of the city below was drowned out by the sound of footsteps, His wife, Hana, appeared from the hallway, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her eyes narrowed. She was dressed in a sleek black outfit, her dark hair pulled back, a looking a frustration etched onto her face.

“You’re late."

“Didn’t realize I was on a curfew,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t act like that.” Her eyes flashed as she followed him into the living room. “You missed the dinner with my parents again. They’ve been asking about you, wondering why you’re never around.”

“Hana, I just won a race,” he replied, exasperated. “Sorry if I wasn’t in the mood to play the doting son-in-law tonight.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “Of course, it’s always about the race with you. Everything is about that damn career, isn’t it?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.”

“Maybe I didn’t know it would mean you disappearing for days, weeks sometimes, chasing whatever thrill you think you need to feel alive.”

“What’s your point, Hana? We’ve had this argument a hundred times.”

“The point is, Satoru,” she said, voice trembling with anger, “that you seem to care more about everything else than this marriage. I’m just a fixture in your life, something you come back to whenever you need to check a box or show face. But you’re never really here.”

He let out a harsh laugh, the bitter sound filling the apartment. "Here we go again. Hana, it’s not like you’ve been some shining example of commitment either. You’ve known what this is for months.”

“What this is?” Her voice rose, cracking slightly as she repeated his words. “What exactly is ‘this,’ Satoru? A sham? A partnership for appearances? I thought you loved me…"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she continued softly, her voice breaking. “The lying, the pretending. It’s exhausting.”

“So what do you want me to say, Hana? That I’m some perfect husband?” He gestured to himself, shaking his head with a smirk that looked almost pained. “We’re both guilty here. Let’s not act like this hasn’t been a slow-motion train wreck.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“What do you want from me, Hana?” he asked quietly, the fight suddenly draining out of him. “You want me to pretend I’m someone I’m not?”

“I want… I wanted the man I married. The one who cared, who had dreams."

“Then maybe,” he said finally, his voice almost a whisper, “it’s time to stop pretending.”

As Gojou stood there running a hand through his hair. Hana paused, her expression shifting from something resigned to something wounded.

“And there’s one more thing."

He looked at her, brow furrowing. “Fucking Christ Hana, what now?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Satoru?” she asked, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “I know what’s out there. The rumors. The whispers about who you’re with when you’re not here. Or maybe you think I don’t hear them.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hana, they’re just rumors. You know how the press is—they’ll twist anything for a story.”

“Twist what, exactly? Why do they have something to twist in the first place?”

“They don’t have anything. It’s just the media looking for something to make people read. Speculation sells.”

“Right. Speculation. But funny how it’s always about you, always linked to another woman.”

“That’s because I’m under a microscope. People love to create scandals, especially with someone like me. And you know that better than anyone.”

“It’s not just them, Satoru. People talk, and it’s not just baseless gossip. I’m not naive. I hear things from people close to you, people who actually know you.”

“You really believe them? You think I’m out there, risking everything for some—” He stopped himself, biting his tongue.

“Do I? I don’t even know my own husband anymore. Maybe I should ask them. Or maybe I should ask you directly, Satoru. Are you seeing someone?”

“Why are we even doing this?”

“Because I want the truth. Just once. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“Believe what you want, Hana. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Then maybe that’s all I need to know.”

Gojou stormed out of his apartment, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to shake off his frustration. He'd had enough for one night. His heart was pounding and the last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts. He needed to get out, to drown the anger with something that could at least help him forget.

The bar he found was tucked away down a dim side street in Shibuya. It wasn't anything fancy–a dark cry from the glitzy nightlife he was used to–but it was dark and quiet which was exactly what he needed. He slid onto a bar stool and motioned for a drink, not bothering to pay attention to what the bartender poured.

He sipped his drink in silence, trying to tune out the night and all the noise in his head. The alcohol burned down his throat, but it was a welcome distraction that numbed his anger and frustration. He was almost on his third drink when he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over a notebook, tapping her pen against her cheek in thought.

She's cute, he thought to himself. He squinted trying to get a better look at the young woman, and he immediately recognized, it was you.

Of all the places he'd expect to see you, this shitty bar wasn't one of them. You looked so absorbed in your work, like you were piecing together something for a story. Satoru's curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up carrying his drink as he made his way over to where you were sitting.

"Well, well," he said, leaning against the back of the chair across from you. “Didn’t peg you for a bar rat, but maybe I was wrong.”

Your head snapped up, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Gojou Satoru. What a surprise.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already taking the seat.

“Didn’t think someone like you would end up in a place like this. Celebrating?”

He gave a dry laugh, swirling the glass in his hand. “Something like that.”

“So, what are you doing here, really? Figured you’d be at a fancy cafe, writing about some important news story.”

“Maybe I am. Research is research, even if it’s in a bar. Maybe it’s you I’m writing about.”

“So I’m your new project, huh?”

“Maybe. It’s part of this little journalism course I’m doing. We’re supposed to pick a public figure and write a profile. Someone who’s got a… colorful public image.”

“Colorful, huh?” He smirked. “Guess I’m your lucky target. Hope I make an interesting subject."

“Interesting is one word for it,” you replied, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What’s got you so quiet tonight? I thought you’d be surrounded by fans somewhere.”

He shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink. “Not in the mood for fans tonight.”

“Tough race?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Not the race. Just… life, I guess.”

“So,” he said, leaning in. “tell me about this little journalism course. You planning to make a career out of stalking poor drivers like me?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. We’re learning how to ‘uncover the truth’—or at least, that’s what they say. So far, it’s been a lot of digging through archives and learning to ask the right questions.”

“Right questions, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Let’s hear one. What would you ask me, if I were your ‘colorful public figure��?”

“Alright, Gojou. How does someone at the top of their game manage to keep it all together? All the races, the publicity, the pressure… don’t you ever feel like it’s too much?”

“Honestly?” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks, being the guy everyone thinks has it all together. But people don’t care about that part. They just want the show.”

“So you put on the show.”

“Guess that’s what it comes down to.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “People don’t want to see a guy crack under pressure. They want the image.”

“But what do you want?”

No one ever asked him that, as if what he wanted didn’t matter.

“What do I want?” he repeated, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to dodge the question. “Maybe another drink.”

I’m serious. Behind all of that… what’s left?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I don’t even know anymore. It’s like I’ve been going so fast for so long, I can’t remember what it was I was chasing in the first place.”

“Maybe that’s what you need to figure out, then.”

He looked at you, and the faintest trace of a genuine smile broke through. “Maybe.”

The two of you sat in silence, and he found himself grateful for it. You didn't press or pry at him and he thought that he could just be himself, even if it was just for a little while.

“Alright,” he said finally, nudging your notebook with his finger. “So, future journalist, you really gonna write all this down? Make me sound like some tortured artist?”

You smirked. “I’ll try to be kind. Maybe I’ll even leave out the part where you go to bars alone and pretend to be mysterious.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, holding up his drink in mock surrender. “Noted. But I expect a copy when it’s published. Autographed, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you replied, laughing as you clinked your glass against his. “But don’t expect it to be flattering.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the conversation continued, Gojou found himself leaning in closer. You both let the drinks keep coming, though it was less about how much alcohol you were consuming and more about the way the words spilled more easily between you two.

“So,” you asked, taking another sip of your drink, “what’s it actually like out there? Everyone sees the fame, the money, the cars, but… what’s it really like?”

He exhaled, tapping his fingers on the edge of his glass. “Honestly? It’s… intense. There’s this high to it, this adrenaline. Nothing like it. You’re pushing yourself and everyone around you to the edge," he tilted his head. “But sometimes, it feels like the line between winning and crashing out isn’t as thick as people think. You cross it once, and that’s it—you’re done.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

“A little. But I’m more afraid of what happens if I stop. It’s like… I don’t know what I’d be without it. Guess that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. I get it. When something’s all you know… giving it up is like giving up a part of yourself. Scary as hell.”

“Exactly. Guess we all have our addictions, huh?”

Shit. Did he say too much?

You didn’t push, just gave him a quiet nod. “So, what’s Tokyo Jujutsu like? It's one of the toughest team on the grid, right?”

“You know it. They’re tough as hell, no room for error. And they sure as hell won’t give you a second chance if you mess up.”

“Sounds brutal."

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I like the challenge. Or maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

“Enough about me," he continued. What about you? What’s the deal with this journalism project? Are you trying to make a name for yourself by exposing all my secrets?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, my goal in life isn’t to ruin yours. I actually think it’s fascinating, learning what drives people, what keeps them going, even when things get messy.”

“Messy? What makes you think my life is messy?”

“Oh, please. Gojou Satoru’s life is one headline after another. You’re practically the poster boy for drama.”

He feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me. I’m just a guy trying to make a living, you know?”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just a guy who happens to have a dozen scandals and an equal number of speeding tickets.”

“Hey,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a professional, okay? That’s all part of the job.”

The two of you continued to chat into the night. Gojou found himself relaxing, caught up in the rare comfort of talking with someone who didn’t expect him to play a part. He could just… be.

At some point, the bartender announced last call, and Gojou glanced at you, smirking. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You stretched, gathering your notebook and tucking it under your arm. “Thanks for the, uh, ‘research material.’ It was… enlightening.”

He laughed, standing and grabbing his coat. “Anytime. But don’t go making me look like a complete asshole in your little project, alright?”

“No promises."

Outside, the air was crisp as he faint hum of city traffic the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slid his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

Outside, the air was crisp as the faint him of the city being the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slide his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again."

“Only if you’re brave enough to handle more questions.”

“Oh, I’m plenty brave. But we’ll see if you’re as good at digging as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to leave, throwing him a casual wave. “Goodnight, Mr. Gojou.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching as you disappeared down the empty street.

In that moment he realized, he never did catch your name.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[xinganhao]

🎓 WELCOME TO SVT UNIVERSITY!

under the cut are ELEVEN (11) upcoming smaus & text imagines, as part of my milestone event. these will be published in no particular order until end of december. thank you for requesting and i look forward to this little series! ´◡`

✏️ PENCILS UP!

🕮 MEMBERS + COURSE (4)

♯ VERNON. freshman. bachelor of science in biology. ♡⸝⸝ requested by anon.

♯ MINGYU. sophomore. bachelor of arts in film and television. ♡⸝⸝ requested by taeraegyat. ✶ BONUS. college ex!mingyu. you start a job at the local cinema and mingyu goes there with his date. (gyubakeries)

♯ JUNHUI. junior. bachelor of arts in sociology. ♡⸝⸝ requested by ore-pheus.

♯ JEONGHAN. senior. bachelor of science in data science and analytics. ♡⸝⸝ requested by choco-scoups. ✶ BONUS. college ex!jeonghan. whenever they try to avoid each other, they go to the same hiding spot until, one day, they're both there at the same time. (anon)

🕮 MEMBERS + PROMPT (3)

♯ CHAN. helping a scared freshman... despite also being a scared freshman. ♡⸝⸝ requested by wollycobbl3-blr. ✶ BONUS. i have to print my paper before class, you’re trying to fix the paper jam while i freak out. (anon)

♯ JOSHUA. we sit next to each other every day, i lend you pencils, you share snacks with me, people are assuming we’re a couple, let’s go with that. ♡⸝⸝ requested by anon.

♯ WONWOO. we're doing a joint charity event... and i have no choice to work with you even though i hate you. ♡⸝⸝ requested by anon.

🕮 SUBUNIT + ORGANIZATION/SPORT (2)

♯ i heard the HIP-HOP UNIT asked you to be the manager of the soccer team! ♡⸝⸝ requested by anon.

♯ i heard the HIP-HOP UNIT asked you to join the dead poets society! ♡⸝⸝ requested by taeraegyat.

🕮 OT13 + MUSIC ALBUM (2)

♯ SEVENTEEN queued THINK LATER by TATE MCRAE at the function. ♡⸝⸝ requested by anon.

♯ SEVENTEEN queued ROOM ON FIRE by THE STROKES at the function. ♡⸝⸝ requested by anon.

💻 NEED A STUDY BUDDY?

all accomplished smaus/text imagines will be linked back to this masterlist. they will also be under the ff. tag: ── ᵎᵎ ✦ milestone event: svt uni

[garuda4321]

Don’t worry, I’ve been told I’ll get advanced notice if the world is ending from my buddy in Poland. I’ll make sure to keep you all posted on that. Of course, he also had an interesting thing to tell me, which I will quote because I think a lot of folks need to hear this. However, saving that for a little bit later because I feel like folks could use a bit of a motivational speech (I gave my first one today focused on hope, and boy do we need it).

Here goes.

I want to start by reminding people that it’s ok to feel. Whether that’s anger, sadness, hope, happiness, or whatever else you’re feeling, it is ok to feel them. Emotions should not be suppressed. I work very hard to ensure that I am a part of a community that is not only safe, but somewhere I can call home. I am always willing to invite more people into my home, especially in times of need as feeling safe is something everyone deserves.

I know that when faced with outcomes such as these, it is considerably easier to live with a victory than a loss. This is why this I am speaking about hope, having hope. I understand that not everyone has hope right now. If you do have it, please try to share some of that hope with those that do not have it. If you do not have it, hopefully you can find some in this reblog.

I am fairly certain that everyone has had the experience when something doesn’t go their way. In the realm of Ninja (the obstacle course racing variety), this is rampant. Perhaps we fell on the first obstacle of a course, or perhaps we missed qualifying for finals by mere seconds. When this happens, we have two choices. We can either stay down and let the negativity eat away at us, or we can get back up and keep training and trying until we reach our goal.

Unfortunately, we can only do that during training. On a course, when we fail obstacle one, that’s it, we don’t get a second chance. We don’t have that choice to stay down or get back up as we can’t change the outcome. As depressing as that sounds, it’s true.

You can’t change what happened and you don’t get the choice to “get up and try it again”. But we don’t have to sit and cry, complain, or hide from it either. We don’t have to give up.

Right now, there are lots of us that are down. We have communities that we feel safe and welcome in to support us when we need them. Together, as we refuse to give up, we can do each and every thing to help better our communities. It may not be a large difference, but a difference is a difference, and a difference matters! We can leave a smile, a compliment, or even a positive message behind because if someone is having a rough day, those small actions can make a large difference for them.

I encourage you to try to bridge outside of your comfort zone and meet new people, join new communities and try to spread some positivity in the world. I did so earlier today by giving a very similar speech to this one and again now by posting an abbreviated version of it. Do your best to make a difference with all people, no matter who they are, what they look like, or what they stand for. Because we will overcome whatever is thrown our way together, and by helping those that are struggling to overcome their own obstacles. We will believe and we will have faith. We may not know who or what to believe in, but we all know that we can believe in each other.

To finish us off, that quote from my friend in Poland.

“Remember that life is a long distance race. In a few months, a lot will change. In a few years, whole world will look completely different. Don’t lose your energy and faith in being a good person. World will need good people.”

Choose to be kind, caring, compassionate, and empathetic.

I’m signing off for now, maybe I’ll return with the next one I end up giving.

[star-suh]

The Masseurs

Kim Jiwoong & Seok Matthew x Male Reader

cw: top jiwoong, verse matthew, bottom reader, bareback, matthew has a milk factory down there so a cumfest ig, lots of body oil, double penetration, fingering, rimjob, blowjob, spank, degradation, nipple play, cum swallowing.

an: this happens in the same universe as sloppy problem.

—

the happy ending spa, this place has gained a name of its own. full of hot workers and the most exquisite massages are given there with of course the respective happy ending, if you want one.

yn came to this place because one of his friends gave him a birthday voucher to use here. he was excited for the things he’s heard about the service but he was nervous too, anxiety creeping all over his body, millions of possible scenarios crossing his mind and none of them was looking good for him.

yn was an overthinker guy, he was thinking on every little detail to avoid embarrassments or problems during his stay at the spa.

“welcome, how can i help you” a tall guy with black hair and pretty eyes welcomed him, “oh hey umm.. i came here because a friend of mine gave me a voucher. here” he handed the paper to the receptionist, his tag spelling the name ricky.

“soooo, tell me which plan you are choosing?”, yn scanned the plastic displaying the massages names and the costs of each one. then something caught his attention *happiness²* ‘such a weird name’ he thought but it made him curious so he choose it. “ooh i see” ricky laughs quietly “good choice”.

ricky showed yn the way to where his room is so he can change while waiting for the masseur. he discarded all his clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist. he leaned on the bed, it was comfortable almost as if he was on top of a cloud, he started to feel sleepy. suddenly the door swung open, yn jolted due to the surprise. two males where there, “hello, good afternoon mister, my name is jiwoong” the taller greeted first followed by the smaller guy “mine’s matthew” a big cute smile adorning his face.

the realization hit yn at that moment, happiness² meant that he was gonna be attended by two masseurs.

“umm.. sorry i- i didn't know there was going to be two masseurs” his cheeks getting flushed, his body tensed. all that overthinking he did before didn't work, he was here embarrassed. “hey hey hey calm down” jiwoong went quickly to his side, then positioned himself behind yn and started massaging his shoulders, “this is a place of relaxation. let me and my partner guide you on this pleasurable journey” matthew then started to pour scented oil all over yn’s body.

jiwoong worked on the upper torso, back and arms while matthew on the lower torso, ass and legs. the smell of the oil sending yn's mind into a realm of relaxation, his body melting on the massage bed. being very mischievous matthew started gripping yn's ass a lot. yn didn't find it weird he thought it was part of the process.

but all of a sudden he felt something poking his asshole, matthew's fingers were going up and down in between his cheeks “stay still, i need to cover all up in oil”.

yn's face was bright red but thankfully he was lying with his face against the mattress, something he took advantage of to hide his moans. playful stares were exchange between jiwoong and matthew, they were enjoying hiw hard yn is trying to act cool, as if nothing is happening. jiwoong mouths a little ‘cute’ that made matthew emitt a quite laugh.

matthew's hands were doing wonders down there. they never left yn's hole alone to the point that the masseur was practically fingering yn while he bit his lip to muffle his moans.

“we're done on this side sir please lat on your back” jiwoong muttered. yn thought twice before turning around, the reason?, he was hard, matthew's fingers reached his prostate stimulatingcover it. ‘it's covered by the towel so maybe they won't notice’ he thought and turned around. but of course they both noticed but decided to play along yn's shyness.

the massage went normal until mischievous matthew strikes again, while he pretended to massage yn's lower torso he was discarding the towel little by little. “i didn't know my hands were that good” he said, catching yn off guard who opened his eyes and saw what was happening, matthew contemplating his rock hard dick. “holy shit” yn tried quickly to cover himself but jiwoong stopped him, “you paid for this remember?” a smile plastered on his gorgeus face. “but- but” yn tried to refute but something shut him up.

jiwoong unzipped his pants and his fat dick fell right on top of yn's eyes “why don't you put that sexy mouth to a better use?” he guided his dick towards yn's mouth. his tip already in, poking against the inside of yn's left cheek, he thrusted slowly at first but his speeding it up by the time.

matthew on the other side was happy slurping on yn's dick, spitting on it, doing a sloppy handjob and deepthroating him. “so good” he said slapping the shaft against his flushed face.

jiwoong straddle yn so he can thrust way faster on him, forcing yn to deepthroat his fat dick, “such a tight throat”.

minutes later jiwoong flooded yn's throat with his cum while yn painted matthew's face and hair with ropes of sperm. yn heaved, trying to catch his breath while wiping out the leftover cum on his mouth. after some deep breaths he was getting ready to leave but matthew stop him, “we're not done yet”.

“what do you mean?” yn said concerned, “the voucher says that you would spend two hours here and we're just 40 minutes in” jiwoong added, “you could go now but if you want to stay…” matthew walked closer towards him “we're gonna make this day unforgettable” he whispered that last part.

yn was conflicted, he was too shy to stay here naked in front of two hot guys but on the other side he was enjoying it. ‘what to do’ he thought, “i guess i'm allowed to have fun this day” he said in an almost whispered tone.

yn sat on the bed but with his legs bend to the sides so his ass could be wide open for the masseurs to see. jiwoong brought a bottle of pil and poured it all on yn, the liquid going down his arched back towards his hole and finally dripping from there. matthew slapped him and rubbed his fingers rapidly on the already puckered hole, “so pretty” matthew blurted out and went straight to suck it, his tongue dancing around the tight ring of muscles while jiwoong smeared the rest of the oil on yn's body.

then both took turns to play with yn's hole, each tongue smearing the saliva left by the previous one. “what the f- ahh… hngh…” yn's a whimpering mess, humping on the bed looking for some friction to relieve his aching dick.

as if it was some type of hard candy they kept sucking on that ass. “just put it in already” yn begged, his hole feeling empty when both stopped the rimjob. “as you wish” jiwoong kissed the back of his neck while introducing his shaft “matthew come here. fuckkk” he cursed “look hiw he's swallowing it with ease.. such a skilled whore”, “yeahhh” matthew cheered with a slap on yn's oily ass.

jiwoong’s big frame overpowered yn's, he easily manhandle him and fuck him mercilessly. yn's words slurred due to how fast and hard jiwoong railed him, “acting all shy and for what, look how you're taking it like a fucking skilled manwhore”

matthew giggled, amused of how jiwoong managed to made yn his little bitch, “hey i wanna have some fun too” he bend over the bed showing his hole towards the others, jiwoong realizing what matthew wants he guide yn towards matthew, grabbed his dick and put it inside matthew. “fuck yeahhh” matthew whimpered, happy of finally have something filling his hole. “yess yn keep plowing my insides” he pouted, happiness all over his face.

“you're such a bitch too matthew” jiwoong joked, thrusting even harder so yn can reach deep inside matthew. they run on a train for the next minutes, yn’s oily body in between two hot guys, smearing said liquid on their sweaty bodies. matthew turn, locking his legs on yn's waist then kiss him while jiwoong pinched his nipples hard and played with his chest.

“i'm gonna cum” matthew moaned shooting his semen almost unannounced, it landed on his abds, chest, face and yn's torso and face. he came a lot, it was still spurting and it even pooled on the base of his shaft. matthew scooped it, suck on his fingers and kiss yn, spitting all of it down his throat.

matthew pulled out yn's dick and laid on bed, “come on, hop on this” he says slapping his still hard dick on the palm of his hand “i need to fill you up too”. yn obeyed, climbed the bed and straddled matthew. sinking on his shaft slowly, until it was all inside. “don't forget about me” jiwoong bite on yn's ear introducing his shaft again.

“wai-wait you're gonna rip me apart” he pleaded but jiwoong didn't care, all he wanted was to empty his balls inside him. “just breathe for fuck's sake” he cursed “it’s gonna feel good soon”.

both meats drilled their way inside the bottom's walls, when one enters the other left and each time they reache deeper and deeper. ‘why do they feel even bigger than before’ yn thought while focusing on breathing…

“i want more please” completely surrendered to the pleasure yn just gave in and let the masseurs use him as a toy. his used hole taking both dicks easily. “it seems that you're hole already knows the shape of our cocks” jiwoong joked, hugging yn's waist tightly, the hair sticked to his forehead due to the sweat made him look hotter and this didn't went unnoticed by matthew who quickly stand up and made jiwoong kiss him.

yn’s face was resting on matthew’s shoulder, drool dripping of his lips and rolling down matthew’s body.

“fuck i can't hold it anymore” matthew groaned, his cock throbbing inside yn and against jiwoong's meat. the sensation was amazing. each throb of matthew's cock means a pump of cum being emptied on yn. and, as already stated before, he cums a lot, again. it drips out of yn's hole and down his balls too. “don't pull out yet” jiwoong demanded, cumming after a few thrusts.

the older pulls out first, his cock completely soaked in thick white sperm. then it was matthew's turn and it was the same, his cock soaked in sperm too. then they watched yn's pulsating gaping hole leaking. “so hot” matthew murmured and fingered the aching hole drawing more moans out of yn’s lips. he then licked his fingers and introduced them on jiwoong’s mouth. the latter then did a last rimjob trying to collect as much cum as possible to spit it on yn's mouth “swallow it all, whore” he cuped the bottom's cheeksfor and he did as he was told. “good job” and as a reward jiwoong kissed him sloppily, his tongue exploring yn's mouth…

“have a great day and we hope you come back for more” ricky waved a goodbye and smiled making yn wonder if he has any idea of what's going on in that spa. yn went to take a taxi walking slowly and a bit limp, guess he won't be walking good in the next few days.

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Hi! Thank you so much for all your analysis, I really enjoy them!! Did you find it strange when Alhaitham, at the end of the event, said he is not interested in visiting the temple of Silence for that gem? Because Alhaitham has always been one to pursue knowledge (sometimes to the extreme, i.g archon quest, where he offers to be taken as a hostage instead to learn more about the truth) Even Kaveh was confused by his answer. I wonder if Alhaitham only meant it in a "I wouldn't go through the trouble JUST for this gem" or if this might be a potential hint to his next storyquest? Idk, it just stood out to me that even Kaveh commented on it, when he knows Alhaitham the best.

i'm glad you enjoy them, thank you so much!! anon this is a delicious sumptuous question, this ??? inkling has been rattling around in my head since finishing the quest, so thank you for giving me a chance to break my own thoughts down about this!

alhaitham's own thoughts about the wedjat eye are that there is little more research to be carried out, as the wedjat eye is perceived as a piece of history, whose purpose and meaning has already been identified - and this can contrast against his active research pursuit with the forbidden canned knowledge capsules as it was uncertain what danger they posed, and the root of the danger

but kaveh points out (as you rightfully say) that since the gem is a legendary historical artifact, it's strange that alhaitham isn't interested in at least seeing it, to which alhaitham states that he refuses to go to the temple of silence to do so because it's too far for him, which is so funny to me??

as if he isn't seen roaming around in the desert and going on research trips to ruins in his character trailer, as well as the latter part of the archon quest taking place in the desert. i suppose that since alhaitham had personal motives to be in the desert these times, and, apparently the wedjat eye doesn't particularly interest him, that he isn't willing to make the journey this time, okay give us nothing!!!

alhaitham brings up the chance of the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya for appraisal, and says that in that case, he would take a look, as he likes to know when interesting things are brought to the akademiya - which can be seen as well in his story quest, where he keeps files on interest on his desk that the player can read

i think it's interesting that it is sethos himself who directly invites alhaitham to look at the wedjat eye for research when it's now contained in the temple of silence, as in cyno's second story quest, when the temple of silence is explored, sethos gives cyno and lord kusanali permission to choose people deemed "worthy" to pursue knowledge in the temple of silence, warning that they must be careful with their choice of candidates

cyno then extends this invitation to kaveh and alhaitham, with them seemingly being these 'candidates', as kaveh says he is interested in visiting the temple of silence in order to look through ancient documents, with cyno saying "that day will come" which seems to imply the temple of silence being at the centre of some future event

each sumeru event (an odd textual mystery and now nahida's birthday event) since then has, of course, included sethos, as he is now a mainline sumeru cast character, and the mention of the wedjat eye now belonging to the temple of silence is consistent with maintaining the organisation as a pivotal part of sumeru

whilst alhaitham's reluctance to physically go there seems to be for comedic purposes, in line with him not helping with the celebrations as it isn't part of his job description (oh but you can head on over to port ormos for no apparent reason to yap with kaveh and leave to go back to the house of daena? like it's a brisk stroll away?? SICK!) i think it's very likely that we'll get more of an exploration of the temple silence in future events (or perhaps a sethos hangout which i am once again asking for), especially (as you say) alhaitham is associated with pursuing knowledge, and the temple of silence is described by sethos to be the hub of this, i'll assume that there has to be something there that entices him to make the journey

as for the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya, i'm not so sure if this will be explored in an event or character story? the purpose of it seems to be fully explored in this event, with candace being the only one to be able to operate it, and with alhaitham saying that there's no need to study it further could be a narrative choice of essentially wrapping up this story thread - but who knows?? (thinking along these lines, it's notable that candace shows the wedjat eye to the traveller and paimon, but doesn't reveal it to alhaitham and kaveh when directly discussing it, ensuring that the two never see it...? worms in brain actually)

going back to the temple of silence, the information it actually possesses regarding king deshret's civilisation being a mystery, as well as the wedjat eye being a gift from king deshret now being contained there, (along with mehrak's core being from king deshret's civilisation which i think would be very !!! to explore), is really interesting to me, especially with the emphasis on there coming a 'day' in which it's possible for the temple of silence to be explored by the main crew, or those that cyno and nahida select as candidates. i'm very much hopeful that hoyo will fulfill this foreshadowing!!

[rheanyraaaa]

Water Lilly Part 4

Enemies To Lovers

Robb Stark x Frey!Reader (F)

summary: Robb & You married via forced/arranged marriage between Starks and the Frey’s, yet the two of you refuse to get along.

——————————————————————————

The wind howled outside the tent, a bleak reminder of the late autumn chill that had settled across the camp. Inside, however, there was only silence, heavy and strained as you sat on opposite ends of the space you now shared with Robb. He was sharpening his sword, the steady scrape of metal against stone echoing like an accusation in the quiet. The air between you felt thick, weighted with everything unsaid, each one of you refusing to break first.

For a while, the only sounds were the crackling of the small fire and the rhythmic rasp of Robb’s whetstone. You could feel his eyes flicker to you every so often, though whenever you glanced up, he looked away, as if he could barely summon the interest to even meet your gaze.

Finally, he spoke, his voice rough and detached. “How is the child?”

The question caught you off guard. It had been so long since he’d asked you anything directly about the baby. Not even bothering to look up from your seat, you answered curtly, “Well I’m just a few weeks now. No visible bump yet, but the healer says it’s developing well.”

Robb merely nodded, his expression unreadable. “Good,” he murmured, his voice flat, almost as though he were discussing the state of his armor rather than the life of his unborn child. The lack of feeling in his tone sparked something angry within you, and before you could stop yourself, you felt the words slip out.

“Don’t pretend to care if you don’t,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “It doesn’t make you sound noble. If you’re uninterested, you could simply say nothing.”

Robb looked up, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied you with a mixture of irritation and something close to surprise. “I’m trying to show an interest, my lady,” he replied, his voice cool. “Would you rather I pretend the child doesn’t exist?”

You scoffed, setting down the small embroidery piece you’d been working on in an attempt to steady your nerves. “What difference would it make?” you asked, fixing him with a steady glare. “You spend more time planning battles and with… your healer than you do with me. I’d think I was a ghost if not for your hand on my stomach at meetings.”

A flicker of something crossed his face defensiveness or even guilt but it was quickly masked. He set his sword down, running a hand through his hair as he looked back at you with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “I have responsibilities,” he said, as if that were excuse enough.

“So do I,” you replied, unwilling to back down. “Or do you forget that I’m here against my will as well, playing the dutiful wife to a man who doesn’t want me?”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, the shadows of the tent dancing across his features, casting him in a harsh, almost unforgiving light. “You’re here because your father made an agreement, not because I chose this,” he snapped, his voice low. “And forgive me if I’m distracted by the task of keeping us all alive.”

“And I’m here because I had no choice either,” you shot back, rising to meet him, unwilling to be looked down upon. “I didn’t ask for this marriage, this… charade. But you could at least pretend to care for appearances, or does that take too much effort?”

Before he could reply, a voice called from outside the tent.

“Lord Stark?” It was one of Robb’s commanders, a grizzled man with a scar across his cheek and a stoic expression that seemed permanently etched into his features. Robb exhaled, stepping back and shaking his head as though to clear his frustration.

“Enter,” he called, his tone clipped. he stepped in, his eyes briefly glancing between the two of you with a look of concern.

“Apologies for the intrusion, but there’s news from the south,” the man said, his tone grave. “Lannister forces are moving, and they’re cutting off supply lines through the river routes. If we don’t address it, our men could be starved out before winter’s end.”

Robb nodded, his expression hardening into a familiar mask of focus. “We’ll meet in the command tent. I want a full report.”

With a quick bow, he left, and Robb turned back to you. The tension between you remained, thick and unresolved, but there was something almost pleading in his gaze, as though he wished to say something but didn’t know how.

“If you want to join us, you’re welcome to,” he muttered, his voice softer. It was as close to a peace offering as he could manage.

But the idea of sitting in that tent, at his side as he strategized, his cold demeanor, a reminder of the distance between you, was more than you could bear. “No, thank you,” you replied curtly. “I think I’ll find my own company more pleasant.”

Robb’s gaze darkened, a flash of frustration flaring in his eyes, but he said nothing more, only turning and leaving the tent without a backward glance.

The silence he left in his wake was oppressive, and despite your anger, a pang of something lonelier, sharper, cut through you. Alone, you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the emptiness in the tent like a second skin.

The hours passed slowly, and evening fell. You took a walk through the camp, trying to ease your mind, but everywhere you went, you felt eyes on you, whispers trailing in your wake. The men respected you as Robb’s wife, but you could tell they sensed the distance between you two. Some even looked at you with pity, others with confusion, unsure of the bond they assumed must exist between the Stark lord and his Frey bride.

Eventually, you found yourself at the healer’s tent, where Talisa was working over a soldier with a nasty leg wound. You paused in the doorway, watching her ease his pain with a touch far gentler than the one Robb had ever shown you.

Talisa looked up, her gaze meeting yours. For a moment, she studied you, a quiet empathy in her eyes, and you wondered if she knew the nature of the rift between you and Robb.

“My lady,” she greeted, her voice warm and steady, but with an undertone of awareness. “Is there something I can help you with?”

You forced a polite smile. “No, thank you. I was just… walking. I thought I’d see how things were here.”

She nodded, sensing your discomfort, and returned her attention to the soldier. It was no secret that she held Robb’s favor, nor was it hard to see why. She was kind, assured, capable in ways that made you feel inadequate, a reminder of the gap between you and your husband.

Feeling restless, you returned to your own tent, wondering how much longer you could keep up this performance. But as you stepped inside, you were startled to find Robb already there, waiting.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, though a flicker of something softer crossed his face.

“What is it?” you asked warily, crossing your arms.

He hesitated, the silence stretching between you until it grew almost unbearable. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” he said, surprising you with the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his tone. “But I’m trying to make the best of it.”

You regarded him, the bitterness in your heart softening just a fraction, though your voice was still guarded. “If you’re trying, it’s a poor effort, Robb. You treat me like another pawn on the board, something useful only when it suits you.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This isn’t easy for me, either. I didn’t want to marry for alliance or duty, but here we are.”

The words hung between you, an uncomfortable truth neither of you had admitted aloud before. For the first time, you saw a glimpse of the boy behind the hardened lord, the man who perhaps hadn’t asked for this life of war and responsibility but had it thrust upon him.

——————————————————————————

Tags!!

@samieree @maysileeewrites

[nekohime19]

Wukong study in LMK # PILOT

Let's gooo! I already did a study for Macaque, tbh I still have to post the study for S5 but I hadn't got the chance to edit it yet 😅.

Though now I wanna talk about Wukong! His character, his evolution, how we perceive him and how he's shown. I have seen some people complain about Wukong, about how he's a bad mentor, how he made the worst choices possible…and, well, I wanna go back on that.

Truly, the fact he's not a perfect mentor is what makes me like him.

So here we go, this is gonna be long 😌:

The pilot is our introduction to Wukong and it already tells a lot as it is.

The first minutes of LMK is about Wukong. DBK is going rampant in a nearby city and the Legendary Monkey King appears to stop him. Tang's voice narrates the whole encounter, which gives the scene an epic feel, but also makes both characters, DBK and Wukong, more flat. By that I mean that they feel more like characters from legends than people.

This feeling is reinforced by the fact that neither of them talk. During the whole fight sequence we hear grunts and groans but no exchange in-between them. In fact, the only voice that can be heard is Tang's. The silence of both DBK and Wukong make them feel like puppets, only characters of legends that Tang narrates.

Voices, logos in particular, is a human characteristic (logos is a Greek concept, more precisely it is the ability to speak being seen as the ability to reason, and thus speech being the characteristic of human beings. In literature and many other media stripping a character of their logos/voice is a way to strip them of their humanity. ). Stripping a character of their voice is a way to make them feel inhuman. Here, the fact that neither DBK nor Wukong speaks makes them feel like legends, being of paper more than flesh.

Our first shot of Wukong is this one :

He's presented as a shining beacon. The hero who comes from heaven and descends to save the mortals. The clouds part under his feet, the sun shines in his back and even though DBK appears infinitely larger, Wukong is the one with power, he's physically above DBK which gave his appearance a sense of power.

The whole shot basks in his colors (gold/yellow), even DBK is plunged in his shadow.

Afterward, throughout the fight, Wukong showcases his numerous powers (72 transformations /staff / clones). He feels unbeatable. Mighty. And end the fight by dropping a mountain on DBK.

Once the fight scene ends, our focus is brought to Tang, who closes a book, and MK. That in itself told us that the first appearance of Wukong is not truly Wukong himself but more his legend. In fact, we can even argue that the whole fight we just watched was the fruit of either Tang's or MK's imagination.

As such we're introduced to Wukong as MK sees him : an unbeatable hero, a shining beacon. A perfect being who protects those in need. Which is in fact quite clever, because MK is the MC, so it makes sense for us to be introduced to Wukong as MK sees him.

So what is the first real appearance of Wukong then?

Yes. That's him. That's our guy. The bird in the shadows. A pretty underwhelming appearance isn't it? He's not shining, he's not gleaming like the sun, he's not even a monkey. At this point, even if we saw Wukong's bird form during his fight with DBK, we're not even sure if it's really Wukong.

Wukong wasn't even following MK, he was already here, probably to keep watch on the Bull family. MK just happened to stumble here and Wukong took interest in him.

Wukong as a bird become some sort of comedic aspect. He watches the Bulls schemes with MK, even nips at MK's fingers to make him fall.

Afterward, Wukong follows MK closely, each of his appearances gives rhythm to the different scenes. He acts like a link in-between the different scenes.

They're searching for the Monkey and he's right here, under their noses, but none notices him. Probably, because none would believe Wukong is this measle butterfly perched on the railing. Why would the Great Monkey King follow them?

I think it's a great subversion of what we could have expected of the Monkey King. We expected someone great, someone perfect. At the end of the journey, Wukong is supposed to be enlightened, to be flawless. Yet he clearly isn't. And that's the whole point of Wukong in the pilot. He defies our expectations of him by being… imperfect.

Story-wise, I think Wukong is monitoring them. We can see that he watches both the Bulls and MK's team, he's silent, observant, clearly he isn't letting fate decide. He's not irresponsible enough to not observe the situation and let others deal with it. Yet he's intrigued by MK. He wants to see what the boy is capable of. What he is, perhaps. That's probably why he involved MK in the situation by nipping his fingers and making him fall right in the middle of DBK's resurrection.

When MK falls on FFM and enters the water-curtain cave, he sees visions of the pilgrims. He see a vision of Wukong, perfect, shining with a golden hue, and think it's the real Wukong, yet when he tries to touch him, the illusion fade away :

There is great symbolism here. MK chases after an illusion. A legend. An afterimage of Wukong that will never be the truth. Clearly, the show is already telling us to not trust our assumptions of Wukong, to not see him as a perfect hero, because he will not be that.

MK had an epic introduction right there. With imagery of the journey highlighted in gold. This introduction felt mighty, it felt heroic, worthy of the Monkey King. Yet it's not real. In contrast, the true Wukong is introduced to MK through a joke, through a comedic light.

Wukong tries to introduce himself but MK squashes him under his foot like a bug. Sorry, Wukong, you tried.

Afterward, Wukong pushes MK's feet away and goes through an epic sequence of transformations to finally properly introduce himself. The show is playing with our assumptions of Wukong, especially by alternating epic and comedic tones.

Wukong is first presented as epic through Tang's storytelling, then he's seen in a comedic light during DBK's resurrection because of his “bird shenanigans”. Then MK sees an epic version of Wukong, only to find out it's an illusion and stumble upon him through a joke.

When you finally think, perhaps the Monkey King is really a joke? Wukong still introduces himself in an epic fashion.

Clearly, Wukong isn't perfect, he's not the hero you (or MK) thought BUT he's still a hero nonetheless. That's why the show is playing with those two different tones (epic and comedic) to introduce Wukong.

The conversation that follows between MK and Wukong paints Wukong as a laid-back and somewhat lazy person, he's reclining on his cloud, eating peach-chips. He's not the wise master we expected to see. In fact, he's very elusive, seems like he doesn't even care.

His advice is admittedly not that great (even a smidge can make the difference) but ultimately it is what pushes MK forward, it is what gives him the confidence to step up and become the protagonist.

And again, like the show subverted Wukong character, the show is also subverting MK's quest.

MK thought he was here to give the staff to Wukong, but turns out Wukong had been following him this whole time, 🤡. That's because MK's real quest isn't finding Wukong, it's to become the protagonist. The MONKIE KID. In the end, MK needs to be established as the MC. Wukong can't defeat DBK, it isn't his role anymore, it's MK's. In the same fashion, MK isn't the Monkey King, he's the Monkie Kid.

As we can see in this shot. MK is the one forward, he is the protagonist. Wukong is behind, smaller, because it's not his story anymore, it's MK's. The whole pilot is about MK establishing himself and carrying Wukong's legacy.

In the end, once MK defeats DBK, we can see Wukong silently bowing to him.

This is a symbolic passing of his duty to MK. He's not the hero anymore, MK is. He inclines himself before his successor as a way to show he acknowledges him and that MK is taking up his torch. At the same time the mere fact that he's here shows that he's not letting the kid fend off alone. He was here if anything went awry.

So what does the pilot tell us about Wukong?

First, Wukong isn't perfect. He's not like his legend, and as MK needs to let go of this afterimage of Wukong we, as an audience, also needs to let go. We will follow MK through his adventures and as the plot progresses, gradually, we will see Wukong for who he is rather than what we thought he was.

Second, Wukong will not be the stereotypical wise master that we are used to in other media.

The figure of the wise master is often presented as someone that cannot be surpassed, as someone silent, serious with poise and grace. Someone that will make no mistakes, that will be perfect in their teachings. Someone that feels like a pillar. A mountain that the student needs to overcome to end their training.

An example of a common stereotypical wise master would be Master Wu of Ninjago.

In contrast, Wukong is the opposite of this ideal of a wise master. He's shown as lazy, gluttonous with generic advice that anyone could give. Wukong is shown as an antithesis of the stereotypical wise master, he is a deconstruction of this ideal.

It makes Wukong feel way more human.

In fact, I would argue that he is better than other stereotypical wise masters because contrary to them, Wukong learns from MK, he is growing alongside his student. His journey isn't over. I love this because often than not masters in other media rarely if ever learn from their students, it feels like they reached a point where they have nothing more to learn. But it's not true, you will always be able to learn new things from life. In fact, Wukong in his ability to learn from MK showcases much more humility than others masters that consider themselves at the zenith of their own learning.

So I reached the end of this analysis of the pilot. I'll do another post for Wukong in season 1!

If you disagree with me then no hate. This is only my interpretation of Wukong and his appearances. I try to be as clear and unbiased as possible but, you know, I still love Wukong very much so my view of him in LMK will be biased no matter what I try to do, 😅.

Anyway, glad you read this long post of mine. See you for the nest post on Wukong 😉. Btw if you liked reading this, I also made studies on Macaque (You'll find them under the tag Macaque study).

[lukola92]

First, nothing justifies harassment. It's important to state at the beginning.

But here comes my unpopular opinion.

They were worried that their chemistry won't sell, bc its an underdog story.

So, they didn't play it up as many say, just let their very close relationship prevail. Not a love story, but there is attraction and sexual tension for sure. They are not neutral for each other.

But neighter are they dating. I think based on what we could see last year after shooting ended by their sm activity, it was Nic who shut it down probably. She is the more level headed of the two.

They started dating others, Luke had his HBS and ended up with Ant. A disappointing choice from his part, I am not going to lie.

Nic dated Eamon maybe? JD? She is more private, so we don't know. JD might be her new gay friend, that is also a possibility.

WT started, maybe feelings surfaced? But anything happened, they didn't continue.

Luke wanted to compensate A for some public humiliation on the WT, so he did some exposure for her as gf, more publicly. Maybe pap walk, but surely the rest, GQ, Italy and Spain. Hence the matching posts. But he doesn't want a full public relationship either, he probably burnt himself with Jade. So Ant can not post him and he draws his boundaries more.

The screen saver imo is not Jake, and not Luke.

I think Nic is dating a third person, who might want to stay out of this. If this is true, he is definitely not a cloutchaser.

I think the beefing or tension might have been true for some extent between Luke and Nic. My theory is Nic is not happy about A wanting to start a career on their tail, cliffhanging Bton. Which is completely understandable, bc Luke's private affairs did steal some thunder from the premier.

But whatever tension, I am pretty sure they will settle, bc they have to shoot many scenes with each other, and Nic is a pro. She will make sure they can work together, and I am sure that L wants it too, even if he is between the rock and the hard place. I am sure there is some nagging and manipulation is going on from A's part

I don't think Nic will consider Luke as a serious partner after A. I am sorry to say that.

everyone has their own opinion but I have other thoughts, I respect yours but I don't share these thoughts and theories

[sjsmith56]

A Better Man, Part 8 - Attachments

Summary: Bucky and Andrea’s date goes well until an unwelcome interruption. When the unthinkable happens a few days later, Bucky takes action.

Length: 5.2 K

Characters: Bucky, Andrea, Steve, Sam, Natasha, Brock Rumlow, Winnifred, Thor, Nick Fury.

Warnings: Feelings of betrayal, anger, angst, description and threats of violence.

Author notes: It was bound to happen.

<<Part 7

Part 8

When Bucky arrived at the apartment his mother was already there but there was no opportunity to ask her about Nick Fury, not with Andrea sitting next to her, already dressed for their date.  He showered, shaved, and changed, coming out to the sight of his mother reading one of the board books to Lily, smiling broadly at the faces the little girl made.  It made him realize how much she already loved Lily and Andrea. 

"There are several frozen bottles of breast milk in the freezer," said Andrea.  "Just thaw one out in lukewarm water, then warm it up in warmer water.  Make sure to shake it before you feed her.  Her diaper will likely need to be changed before you put her in her crib.  I'll keep my phone on vibrate if you have any problems."

"Go, and don't worry about anything," said Winnifred.  "We'll be just fine.  You two have a good time."

Bucky kissed her on the cheek then took Andrea's hand as they went to the elevator.  By the time they got down to the lobby he had almost forgotten about Fury's man watching the building, not even checking the area before they got into the Uber that was picking them up.  When they arrived at the dinner club, Steve and Natasha were waiting outside on the sidewalk for them.  The women hugged each other, then Sam and Maria arrived.  The two women were introduced to Bucky.  Andrea hadn't met Maria before but had heard about her from Natasha.  By the time they got inside and led to their table, they were laughing together as if they had known each other for some time. 

Dinner was fun, as they each ordered something different, but shared tastes of their food with everyone else, comparing their choices.  There was a lot of laughter, some gentle teasing and sharing of funny stories.  When the dinner plates were being cleared, and the server came for their dessert orders, Andrea asked Bucky if they could share something. 

"What do you like?" he asked, a soft smile on his face.

"Anything with chocolate," she said, then she reconsidered.  "Wait, I don't know if Lily will react to it.  Maybe I should stick to something blander, just in case."  He looked blankly at her.  "Whatever I eat can show up in the breast milk.  Too much chocolate can upset a baby's tummy.  Maybe cheesecake would be a better choice, or something with apples."

He looked again at the dessert menu.  "There is an apple crumble with caramel sauce.  How does that sound?"

"Perfect," she smiled, then she looked at the server.  "May I have decaf tea with that?"

When it came and two spoons were put on their place settings, Bucky slid the serving over to her to try first.  Dipping her spoon in to the crumble part, she made sure there was caramel on it, then raised it to her mouth. 

"Oh my God, this is so good!" 

Bucky took a taste and agreed.  They fed each other on occasion, drawing smiles from the others.  It was a perfect way to end the meal.  Natasha leaned over to Steve and whispered in his ear.  He whispered back making her nod.  Neither would share what they said but it was certain they were both happy for their respective friends at how good they seemed together.

The music started and as promised, it was very laid back, lending itself to close dancing.  They all got up to take part, enjoying the mellow atmosphere.  After several songs, Bucky and Andrea sat back down, to refresh themselves.  She checked her phone, making sure that Bucky's mother hadn't called or texted.  Excusing himself to use the men's room, Bucky got up, leaving Andrea on her own as the others continued dancing.  She watched them, then was aware that someone had sat beside her.  Assuming it was Bucky, she was shocked to see Brock Rumlow.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling herself away.

"Free country," he replied.  "What are you doing here?  Shouldn't you be home looking after my daughter?"

"You're not her father."  How did he know I had a girl?  "You can't just show up whenever you please and claim she's your child."

"What are you doing here, Rumlow?" asked Steve, suddenly at the table with Sam.  "You're not welcome here."

"I'm having a conversation with the mother of my child," smirked the man.  "Beat it."

Bucky approached, stepping between Andrea and Rumlow.  "The lady doesn't want anything to do with you," he stated.  "I would suggest you leave."

"Taking my sloppy seconds, huh?" grinned the swarthy man.  He stood up.  "I wasn't good enough for her, so she sets her sights on the golden boy of renovations.  Does she know the truth about you and Barnes Contracting?"

"You need to leave," said Natasha, holding up her badge.  "This is bordering on harassment, and I have no qualms about making an arrest.  You're the one who didn't want anything to do with Andrea or her baby, so get lost, loser."

"NYPD?  Do you know who you're hanging out with?"  Maria flashed her badge and Rumlow stepped back, holding up his hands in surrender.  "Andrea, consider this a notice that I intend to sue for custody of our daughter.  Since you're not working and you're living off the charity of others I'm sure a family court judge will be willing to give her to me.  You all have a good evening."

With another smirk, he left.  Bucky put his arms around Andrea right away, kissing her hair.  She was shaken then she looked at Natasha.

"Can he do that?  Can he get custody of her?"

"Over my dead body," she answered.  "He's just trying to frighten you.  The guy is a major asshole."

"What did he mean about knowing the truth?"  She looked at all of them, noticing they weren't jumping to say they didn't know.  "Bucky?  What did he mean?"

He swallowed nervously, looking at the others.  "We should go home so I can talk to you there."

"No, I want to know what he meant.  Natasha, what was he talking about?"

"Andrea, you really should go with Bucky.  This isn't the place ...."

"Would somebody please tell me what the hell he meant?" 

She sounded like she was on the verge of panicking as her voice caused everyone in the club to stop talking and look at them.  The manager asked them to leave as they were disturbing the other patrons.  Taking her purse and jacket, she headed towards the door and out onto the sidewalk.  Steve murmured he would take care of the bill while the others went out to where Andrea glared at all of them.  With a sigh, Bucky stood in front of her.

"There's something I haven't told you," he said.  "I've wanted to, but everything was going so well, and I really was trying to do the right thing in getting out of it.  Barnes Contracting is an actual general contracting company, and Steve, Sam and I have our legal contractor's licenses, but we haven't only taken on renovations.  Most of our revenue stream until a few weeks ago was providing a service to several other businesses, most of them weren't legitimate.  We held on to stolen goods for them, transporting them to their customers after the heat was off.  When I met you, I knew that it wasn't something I wanted you to be associated with, so we changed to just renovations, legal ones.  No more holding stolen goods."

She pushed him hard enough to make him stumble a little as her lips trembled with anger.  Bucky impassively took it without comment.  She breathed heavily with disbelief at what he just told her. 

"It's true," said Natasha, trying to intervene on Bucky's behalf.  "They aren't like Brock, Andrea.  They never were involved in the things he was."

"You knew and you didn't say anything?  You encouraged me to see him, to become close to him ... to fall in love with him." Natasha looked down, unable to say anything more.  "Now, I don't even have a place to live, because he has torn my house apart."

"You don't have to leave," said Bucky.

"I'm not staying with a crook," she shouted, all of her anger bursting out in the effort, then she placed her shaking hand on her forehead.  "Your mother, she knows?"  He nodded and she groaned in frustration.  "You're horrible people.  All of you.  Now, I might lose my daughter.  I don't have a job and the money that I was living on when I had a house won't support me for longer than a couple of months if I have to find a place to rent."

It was too much for her and she suddenly wavered, then fainted.  Steve caught her, lifting her up in his arms. 

"Where's your car?" he asked.

"We took an Uber," replied Bucky.  "You?"

"We walked," he answered.  "Taxi."

Bucky hailed a cab.  At first, the driver wouldn't take Bucky and Andrea, considering the state she was in, but Natasha showed him her badge and told him it was okay.  For $50 cash, he said he would consider it.  Sam opened his wallet and gave him the money.  During the drive, Andrea came around, but she wouldn't let Bucky touch her. 

"I'm sorry, but there was no easy way to tell you," he said.  "I wanted to.  I really did."

"I don't believe you," she answered. 

"Look, you stay in the apartment.  I'll pack a bag and live at my mother's place.  I'll get your place done as soon as possible so you can move back, at my expense."

"Right," she answered.  "Since I don't have the money to pay you, are you going to send your enforcer to break my kneecaps?"

"No, I don't have an enforcer.  I don't do that.  The only thing I did was hold onto stuff and make deliveries.  That's it."

She looked out the window on the other side of the back seat, not saying a word.  Bucky realized he was chewing on his fingernails and stopped, lacing his fingers together in his lap.  Damn Brock Rumlow for being the asshole he always was.  Damn him for showing up and opening his big mouth.  Damn himself for not being honest with Andrea from the beginning.  She didn't wait for him when the driver pulled up to the apartment building.  As Bucky paid, she got out and hurried to the door, then to the elevator, getting in and not holding the doors for him.  He waited the few minutes it took for the elevator to return to the main floor then got on, hoping that she stayed there.  When he got to his floor, he saw his mother sitting on a tall stool at the kitchen counter.  Her face said it all.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"In her room.  She said you're moving out while you finish her house.  What happened?"

"Brock Rumlow showed up."  His mother sighed and lowered her head, just imagining how that went.  "Said he's going to sue her for custody then he asked her if she knew the truth about me.  I had to tell her.  She wouldn't let it go."

He went to his room, pulling out a large suitcase and throwing his clothes in.  Winnifred stood in the doorway.  Hesitating for a moment, he glanced at her.

"Why would Nick Fury have someone watching my place?"

She breathed out noticeably.  "I asked him to have someone watching Andrea.  I knew that if Pierce found out about Lily, he would come for her.  Family is everything to him and even if Brock Rumlow didn't want her, Pierce would."

He closed his suitcase, then looked at her again.  "Why would Mrs. Parker tell us that the enemy of our enemy is our friend?  What did she mean?"

"Just that Nick Fury has his sights set on Hydra Contracting and Alexander Pierce.  They have been involved in a battle of wits for as long as you've been alive.  You don't have to worry about him coming after you or Barnes Contracting.  He has no interest in the company."

He picked up the suitcase then looked at her again.  "That's not the whole story, is it?"  She said nothing and gave nothing away.  "Need to know.  Alright, but you better start trusting me with something because I'm walking out on the woman I love because she thinks I'm in the same league as Brock Rumlow and I know that I'm nothing like that animal."

Out in the kitchen, he grabbed a pen and a pad of paper, writing on it.  Then he opened his wallet and emptied it of cash, putting it under the pad.  With a look to the hallway where Andrea's bedroom was, he picked up his suitcase again and went to the elevator with his mother, entering it when the doors opened.  A few minutes after they left, Andrea's bedroom door opened, and she came out to verify they were gone.  She saw the note, read it but didn't take the money.  Then she sat in the oversized armchair where she and Bucky made out just a week ago.  Only then did she give in to the overwhelming emotions she was feeling and began to cry.  It was a long time before she stopped, locked down the elevator door, turned off the lights and went to bed.

It didn't take long for word to reach the employees of Barnes Contracting that something had happened to Bucky.  Simply put, he was a bear with just about everyone, even Mrs. Parker.  At the job site, he didn't let up on anything or anyone.  It was draining and made for a very tense workplace.  Steve tried to talk to him whenever he came back to the office, but Bucky wouldn't say anything, other than he was fine.  When Steve told Natasha how badly Bucky was taking it during the week after the incident, she admitted that Andrea had blocked her phone number.

"If she's blocked me, she's probably blocked Bucky as well," she said, sadly.  "I really fucked up."

"We all did," he replied.  "Rumlow obviously had someone following Bucky to find where he lived."

She looked at Steve.  "What do you mean?  Didn't he already know?"

Steve shook his head.  "No, it was kept secret.  Only me, Sam, a couple of our guys, and his mom knew where he lived."  He hesitated.  "Something bad happened to Bucky when he was a kid, and he is very security conscious because of it.  I don't know the details, but he was traumatized by it and has been afraid of blood ever since.  It makes him physically sick."

"How old was he?"

"Six, I think.  I met him after it happened.  It's also why he's not the type to get into fights or arguments.  He just takes it because he doesn't like conflict."

"He didn't even react when Andrea pushed him or got angry about it." 

Steve put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in closer and kissing her head. 

"It's Dot, all over again, except worse."

He explained about Bucky's previous girlfriend and how much it set him back.  It made Natasha feel even more at fault for what happened as it was obvious Bucky was nothing like Brock Rumlow in mind or temperament.  He and Andrea were perfect for each other in so many ways.  She burrowed into Steve's chest, seeking comfort from this man who was becoming much more than the casual sex partner she had originally envisioned.  She was falling in love with Steve Rogers. 

Friday came around again, and the crew were cleaning up the debris in the brownstone.  Bucky had the blueprints of the new kitchen layout in front of him on a portable table and was pointing out to the electrician the location of the new lighting fixtures over the island placement.  Since Andrea wasn't taking his calls he was using his best judgement to decide where to place them.  He could hear someone's cell phone ring, and irritatedly thought they shouldn't be taking personal calls on the job. 

"Bucky?" He looked up to see Thor, looking at him anxiously.  "Can I talk to you, privately?"

"I don't have time for private conversations," he snapped.  "Just spit it out."

The big man sighed, then reached down into his work boots and pulled out a wallet, opening it in front of Bucky's face so that only he saw it.  It was an FBI ID card, with his badge just below it.

"What is this, some kind of joke?"

"No joke," said Thor.  "Please, we need to go somewhere private."

The expression on the taller man's face was serious, so Bucky excused himself and the two men went to the powder room, closing the door behind them.

"You're FBI?"

Thor nodded.  "I've been undercover with your business for six months."  Bucky frowned, then ran his hand through his hair.  "It's not what you think.  You and Barnes Contracting weren't under investigation, but I can't say more than that as I don't have clearance.  Just know that the enemy of your enemy is your friend."

It was what Mrs. Parker said to them, setting off all sorts of thoughts in Bucky's mind.  Was Mrs. Parker an FBI agent?  She had been with the company for ten years, had hacked into databases, helped them coordinate shipments ... what the hell was going on?  He looked up at Thor again, who swallowed.

"I just got a call from the District Attorney's office.  Rumlow has kidnapped Andrea and Lily Hart.  He shot the man who was watching them when he tried to intervene.  He's in surgery right now."

It was like being punched in the gut and Bucky began to hyperventilate, then he kneeled down and bent his head over to stop feeling so faint.  Shaun was supposed to be watching them as well.  What happened to him?  Thor didn't seem to be worried about Bucky's reaction, as he just waited.  After several long minutes Bucky looked up.

"Where is she?"

"They didn't say but they want your help," he said.  "I'm to bring you to a meeting place to go over where they're likely holding her.  I don't want to blow my cover."  He shrugged.  "I like the guys I'm working with.  They're decent men who made a mistake and you helped them to get back on their feet."

"You lied," said Bucky, raising himself. 

"Only about holding heroin, being an ex-con and the FBI," answered Thor.  "I am a college graduate, and I did work summers in construction.  It's been great doing it again.  Didn't realize how much I missed it."

"So, you want me to keep your secret," said Bucky.  "How do I know this isn't a setup?"

"You don't," admitted the other man.  "I just know that this operation has been running for a long time and that it's finally at a point where several different authorities can take action against Pierce and Hydra.  Andrea was never meant to be part of it.  Her involvement was just one of those things that happen in life when an innocent person walks into something bigger than them.  Unfortunately, her kidnapping is likely to trigger the enforcement stage of the operation and that could put her life in jeopardy.  We need to get her and the baby to safety as soon as possible."

"Alright," said Bucky.  "I'll come with you but if anything happens to her or to Lily, I'll go after Pierce and Rumlow myself.  I won't wait on any law enforcement to do their job."

"Fair enough," said Thor.  "What should we tell the others?"

"You leave that to me," said Bucky.  "Meet me at my car."

They left the powder room and Thor headed out to where Bucky's car was parked.  Several minutes later, Bucky appeared and unlocked the car remotely.  After they were inside, Thor gave him the address and they were on their way.  Minutes later, everyone at the job site came out the front door, led by Clint Barton.  He apologized to the electrician who was being sent home then locked up the brownstone. 

"Scott, go to the hospital and get Shaun," he said.  "Bring him to the warehouse."

The rest of the men from Barnes Construction got back into the company trucks and headed to the warehouse.  Even though the drive wasn't all that long, it seemed to take forever to get there.  Sam was waiting and left the back door unlocked for them as he went back inside.  As Clint led the others inside, he was glad at how they even called in the guys who were on the city payroll but associated with them.  It seemed that everyone was being called in to this.  Steve got on top of the table and looked around at all of them.

"So, Rumlow has taken Andrea and Lily," he said.  "Thor is an undercover FBI agent who claims that the company isn't under investigation.  I knew there was something off about him, but one of us convinced me that he was okay." 

He nodded at Sam, who went through the hallway to the main office.  He returned with Mrs. Parker, who seemed surprised at the assembly.  She turned to leave but Sam blocked her exit.  Resigned, she turned back to them, then saw her nephew, Peter, who looked at her as if she were a traitor, apparently not knowing she was a planted agent.

"The enemy of your enemy is your friend," she said, out loud.  "I'm not your enemy, never was."

"But you're not who you seem to be," said Steve.  "Rumlow kidnapped Andrea and Lily and shot Shaun, as well as an investigator with the DA's office.  Are you working for Pierce?"

"No, never," she said.  "I have much to hate about him.  He's the reason I'm a widow.  He's the reason I agreed to join the company and take over from Mrs. Barnes.  He's the reason why I've done my best to keep you knuckleheads from getting in too deep."

"Well then," said Steve.  "You have five minutes to explain it to us.  Then we're going to war with Hydra."

"Which you'll lose," she answered, "and every bit of good will that has been built up over the years to keep the law off your backs will have been for nothing.  Do you want to all end up in prison again?  Because if you go up against Hydra, that's what will happen.  They have a lot of people in their pocket, police, judges, military ... and you boys, as well intentioned as you are, don't have the one thing they do."  She scanned each of their faces, lingering longest on her nephew.  "You don't have the killer instinct.  None of you do."

"Aunt May, we can't just sit back and do nothing," said Peter, his earnest face reflected in several others.

"I'm not asking you to," she sighed.  "I'm asking you to be smart about it.  Take them down, but don't take them out.  Don't stoop to their level." 

Steve jumped off the table and stood in front of this woman whom he had trusted for ten years. 

"Does Mrs. Barnes know about you?" Mrs. Parker nodded.  "She knows more, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but she'll have to tell you as it's not my place."  She waved her hand around gesturing at the warehouse.  "This has taken years to setup and if you do the wrong thing now, you can undo all that work and Pierce, Rumlow, Sitwell ... all of those predators will get away with it."

"Then what can we do?" he asked.  "What will keep all of us out of prison but keep them occupied?"

She smiled.  "Misdemeanours.  Trespassing, blocking driveways with vehicles, minor vandalism, such as letting the air out of tires, broken windows, blocking doors from the outside, throwing rotten fruit ... you know, just being little shits, really."

He smiled with her.  "We can do that.  I'm sorry for thinking you worked for Pierce."

"Don't be," she said.  "I'm surprised I kept you guys fooled for as long as I did.  You let me tell my superiors that we're going to mount a little campaign of distraction while they work out how to get Andrea and Lily out of there before they go in."

At that moment, Scott came in, with Shaun, who wore a sling protecting the injury on his arm.  Mrs. Parker shook her head at him.  She warned Fury this could happen and repeated it to Ross when she called him after Steve and Sam questioned her.

🙎‍♂️🙎🏻‍♂️🙎🏼‍♂️🙎🏽‍♂️🙎🏾‍♂️

In the car, Bucky was surprised when he pulled up to the warehouse of one of his construction suppliers.  He looked sideways at Thor, who shrugged.

"Couldn't have you using stolen goods for your legitimate jobs," he said.  "They did their best not to incriminate you or anyone at Barnes Contracting.  Took years to setup but it was necessary."

He parked and the two men entered a side door.  Inside, in the middle of pallets of wood was what appeared to be a command post.  Most of the people there were unknown to him, but he recognized Nick Fury, who nodded wordlessly at him.  A short man with greying hair approached Bucky, offering his hand.

"Everett Ross, special agent in charge of this operation.  We don't have time to bring you up to speed on how we set this up, but your mother should be here soon and can explain it to you.  In the meantime, we have several locations identified where Andrea Hart and her baby girl may have been taken.  We understand you know Hydra's locations fairly well."

Glancing at the large screen monitor that displayed several locations, Bucky shook his head at all of them except one. 

"You're sure that it was Rumlow that took her?"

"Yes, our operative phoned it in before he lost consciousness.  Why?"

"If it was Pierce, he would have taken her to his home.  He's all about family and he's often shown in public with his grandchildren and younger nieces and nephews.  It's part of his image that he's this friendly, older family man.  Brock is a different type entirely.  He's nasty and mean.  Doesn't care about either of them but I figure this is aimed at me because he knows that I killed his father."

"Say what?" Everett Ross looked at Fury.  "What's he talking about?"

"You didn't kill Henry Rumlow," said Fury.  "I know that for a fact."

"I pointed the gun at him," said Bucky.  "I was six, although it wasn't until they reported on his body being discovered near the river that I recognized him as the man who was hurting my dad that night.  I remember the hits, and the yelling and the blood after.  I took his dad's life, so he's going to take Andrea's life to hurt me."

"You didn't kill Henry Rumlow," said his mother's voice, as she entered, flanked by Natasha and Maria, who both shrugged at him.  "You brought George's gun out and pointed it at Rumlow, but the safety was on, and he aimed his gun at you, planning to shoot you right there.  There was no way your father was going to let him hurt you.  George fought Rumlow to protect you, then that criminal's own gun went off and he bled out on the kitchen floor."  Her eyes filled up with tears.  "All these years, you thought you killed a man?"

Bucky's lips trembled as he relived that night, then he closed his eyes and sobbed, finally remembering the missing parts that always eluded him.  His mother enclosed him in her arms and rubbed his back.  She murmured into his ears as he wept, then took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at his tears before looking at the assembled law enforcement task group.

"Henry Rumlow was there looking for diamonds that were supposed to be kept in evidence, but he had been suspected of stealing from the evidence locker, so Nick Fury asked my husband, an old army buddy, to hold them.  Someone must have seen Fury leave our house because Rumlow showed up in the middle of the night with a thug and began working George over to give them up.  He never did.  The other man attacked George, and he was forced to kill him as well.  He and a trusted friend took their bodies to the river, staged it to look like they fought each other, then placed Rumlow's gun back in his hand.  George told Nick what he did right away."

"I told the DA at the time, and he agreed it was self defence, so no charges were laid.  It was felt that charges for moving the bodies would expose the family to action from Pierce, so no charges were laid for that either.  Pierce always had his suspicions, but nothing could be proved."

Ross looked at Fury, then at the others and shrugged.  "I'm guessing the statute of limitations has run out for those charges anyway, and since it was your husband who did it and he's dead, it's a moot point."  He looked at Bucky.  "Now, where do you think Rumlow has your girlfriend?"

"His favourite strip club," said Bucky, taking his phone out.  "I have a guy on my payroll there.  He texted me before I headed out with Thor."  Ross frowned, looking at Thor who shrugged.  The strip club information was enlarged on the monitor.  Bucky realized that the detail on it was something that only an insider could provide.  "There's something else you should know.  I told my guys at the job site and my two partners.  They're headed over there."  Several groans of disbelief erupted before Bucky put up his hand.  "If you want me to call them off, you have to let me go there, on my own."

"Bucky, no," said his mother, placing her hand on his cheek.  "All of this was to free Barnes Contracting from ever having to resort to anything illegal again.  It was what your father wanted, for you and the company to be legitimate.  He was so proud of you for getting your journeyman's papers and working to get your contractor's license.  It's why we let them use the company to act as a front to keep Hydra under surveillance."

"Remember I told you that I would go legit if I had Andrea in my life?"  He searched her face.  "I would go to prison to keep her safe, Ma.  That's how much I love her and Lily.  If I have to kill Brock to do it, she's worth it."

As his mother hugged him, he looked over her shoulder at Natasha and Maria.  Both women nodded their head at him, understanding the depth of his love.  As a heated discussion grew louder behind him, he began to plan how he would get Andrea and Lily, who was his daughter in every way but one, out of the hands of Brock Rumlow.  For the first time he could remember, the thought of spilling blood didn't make him sick.

Part 9>>

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[lady-quen]

End of the Line

"A lifeless mannequin, dancing on strings. Each string spoke to him in the thousand hushed voices of magic. It hurt. Each string begged him to usher his body back together. The Alchemy danced behind his eyes. A silver serpent, swallowing its own tail. It fucking hurt. It isn't over, it said. You made it so." "You killed your death, now live with it."

[Post-EoD drabble, 3k words, just exploring the consequences of people finding out my Commander a is a lich. Part of joint canon with @commanderteag (Maolmuire used with permission.) Angst, tw for decapitation, swearing, fantasy racism. I took some very mild creative liberties with the Pact status and the Void.]

Even times of newfound peace still had their work cut out for what remained of the Pact.

The original plan had been to dissolve after Jormag and Primordus. Then, after Soo-Won. And now, with Void stragglers remaining all around the world, he was in charge of the strike forces in a large-scale round-em-up-and-neutralize operation. Because of course he would be - the famed Pact Commander that he was. At least the rounding up part was easy, with choice waypoints repurposed into ley-line beacons at Taimi's suggestion. One he took gladly, with the haze beast as the precedent for Void's attraction to energy nexi.

At least, this time, his emotions weren't being used as the lure. Even if the calculations were just barely within the margin of error, his daughter's plan was working.

"Sir! We've got sightings in the canyon!" Elina, one of the scouts, reported. Maelmordha nodded, comms device clicking to life.

"Hundar Pike strike force! On my mark, unload all explosives into the valley!"

"Demolitionist Tirxxi reporting! All troops in position!"

Splendid. Despite last minute adjustments when the Void headed down an alternate path, everything was going more or less smoothly. Much easier this way - if this continued to go well enough, nobody would even have to engage the enemy in ground combat. He alone would likely be more than sufficient to pick off the leftovers. A bitter smile graced his features in anticipation. Ever since Aurene had departed into slumber, he could no longer count on that little miracle atop the Harvest Temple. And so, he had to make this work without her.

The Void was already dying out, but the last of it congregated in areas most affected by the late Elder Dragons. Though waiting was certainly an option, there was always the risk of further loss of life - and so, mobilizing the army for one final cleanup was the most logical course of action. The Commander's voice once again entered the channel.

"Site Alpha confirmed, reached. Team Alpha, on my mark... Now!"

He could feel the explosion from miles away. The ground itself shook as a decent part of the canyon collapsed into itself, burying the monsters below in a rockslide, clouds of gunpowder, and an avalanche for good measure. Freeform Void attempted to bleed through out of the cracks before dissolving into the air without particular fanfare.

He repeated the order for site Beta, cutting off the encroaching shadows and closing the valley behind them. Perfect. Like sheep herded to the slaughter - without the mind behind it, the chaotic element was as directionless as any other dragon minions left without their master.

Still, where it was directionless, it was certainly not a complete pushover. The final act drew close; Descend into the valley on-foot with Legion choppers monitoring closely from above. If it gets ugly, fall back. It shouldn't, but he was no fool to risk his troops like so.

"Lieutenant Tornbanner. Everett. Cinniod. Maolmuire. We're going in."

"Sir yes Sir!"

A small contingent of shock troopers under Tornbanner, Everett's medics, Cinniod's mages and Maolmuire would be more than enough to make quick work of whatever creatures still clawed their way out of the snow. There weren't many, and most were already far too dazed by the explosion and distracted by the ley line energy wafted into the canyon to be as much of a threat in close quarters as they used to be during the Canthan campaign. And so, in they went.

Two dozen pairs of boots touched the ground when suddenly, the Commander raised up an arm, signaling for the soldiers to wait. His gaze, fixed on the heaps of rubble, was unreadable.

"...Allow me to handle this by myself. Stay behind and make sure nothing sneaks up on any of us. Eyes and ears wide open."

He did have a rather poor track record with magical lures. It would be for the best if he went on ahead and cleared the way, with the others as backup but otherwise out of harm's way. The unmistakable spires of Brand crystals shimmered all around him in their rich, purple hue, framing an entrance underground. Kralkatorrik. Guess a piece of the old man remained beneath the canyon, after all. Not that completely erasing an Elder Dragon's influence from the world was easy, even for another one. Forces this old had their roots set firmly in the world.

A part of him wondered whether she really wanted to purge every last trace of her grandfather. These crystals, now dormant - in a sense, were they not the final keepsake she still had of him..?

Did she remember him? Were the Dragons not connected by some sort of Dream? Did it possess past memories, as well? Did she know what he was like before he -

Went mad. Razed billions. Slaughtered her mother.

Something turned deep within his gut, a familiar pain he did not expect. Visions of a burning blade, the same one that took his life - and an asuran prodigy, the only other mortal he had known who stood, with him, at the precipice of immortality. How did it feel..? To achieve the state he had. Locked within the chassis of a machine, mind uploaded into ones and zeroes. A novel form of life, if it could be called that.

Blish, do you think you were alive?

He descended further into the cave, Banner warband watching closely behind.

My golem body kept me safe, but... if anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself.

Forgiveness. What a fleeting concept, comparably far easier to give than to receive. He stared into the brilliant violet. Hey, old friend... are you in there, still..? Do you "forgive" me?

Killing and corrupting... it's what you do. It's what you were born to do.

W - what?

A harsh left, swords pointed at nothing. Gold eyes blinking against the crystal gleam before turning to face his troops. The Commander gave a reassuring nod - nothing here, either.

He wasn't sure whether whatever he heard was a voice inside his mind or a product of stress. Perhaps both. Perhaps neither. The crystals had eyes.

Could a dead thing feel..? This wasn't Kralkatorrik. He was gone. And yet, there was a distinct sorrow within the air, and each step felt like moving through mud. He couldn't help but wonder: Did the beast regret all that he had killed? Was this a final vestige of his tortured soul, buried in hopes of never again seeing sunlight? Was what Aurene had been doing all this time..?

It wasn't just to erase his corruption. It was to erase his pain. Kralkatorrik, he... couldn't rest easy until he was gone to the very last, it seemed. But what about Blish? Was he gone, too, or was he suspended in that hellish state of darkness? Unable to pass on until the silent prison holding him was destroyed without a trace? Dear Mother, why did everything have to always end in boundless suffering?

And it was then that he realized. The miscalculation was not a miscalculation. They accounted for it, yes, but the Void? It hadn't been following the ley line at all.

It was following Kralkatorrik's torment.

The ground shook. Tendrils of black slithering through bedrock, snaking around Brand pillars.

Several malformed creatures emerged, taking on shapes of the long dead in a chaotic masquerade. Icebrood. Risen. Branded. Destroyers. Mordrem.

"Fall back!" Maelmordha wasted no time. This was bad terrain - a chokepoint. They needed to make it back out into the open, into a direct sightline with the choppers, should all this go south even faster than it was already going.

Wherever he was involved, things had a habit of turning to shit. SNAFU, indeed. At least then, his presence usually prevented the situation from escalating from merely "shit" to "fucked beyond measure and then some."

He was not about to let anyone die this time.

For you. Trahearne, Eir, Almorra, Blish, and too many others to count.

"I'll hold them back! Go! Go! Go!" A swift cut from Lædingr ended a charging Icebrood. Black ooze splashed his armor, sizzling where it hit. "Don't worry about me, I'll be right behind you!"

It was a lie. But, hah, he was very much planning on surviving. Call him a control freak - but this? How this ended was entirely up to him.

No more hesitation. No more loss. No more -

Vaughn Tornbanner's matchlock took out one last Mordrem before the Lieutenant herded his warband outside, the charr providing cover for escaping medics. Flame and lightning magic crackled all around them, lashing out against whatever unlucky monsters sought a bite of the Commander's forces. Here and there, phantom mirages of the fourth Knight of Thorn distracted and incinerated foes with beams of light.

There was more Void here than they had ever accounted for. Even in its death throes, it closed in like a storm.

The diabolist focused, and shade magic enveloped his form. The necromantic fire in his blades erupted into a blaze of blue, his once-gold eyes opening to the same, cold hue. Rows of fangs unfurled upon his chest, a full-body snarl.

In the shimmering dragon amethyst, he swore he could glimpse an image of a small and sickly asura. In life, Blish had mirrored Taimi so closely.

His lips moved, soundless. There was judgement in his eyes.

The front line of Void creatures suddenly stopped, phantom hooks digging into the mass of writhing shadow as his chains constricted all like hungry serpents. With a sickening crunch, the bodies before him were warped, limbs torn from their sockets, necks snapped, multicolor eyes fading in the flash freeze of death. He exhaled a puff of frigid breath, attempting to channel enough ice to seal over the entrance. In his chanting, Grenth's own magic - permafrost extending out of his palm in an explosion of crystalline shards.

The Void. It was trapped... finally.

"Commander!" There was abject terror in Cinniod's voice. Several people gasped. Maelmordha made a single step to turn around, dual blades still held firmly within his grasp.

"Everyone! Is everyone -"

There was the vague sensation of something cold passing through his flesh. A blur of black and technicolor, a flash of steel on his left - his eyes followed it, and then it was on his right. He... his neck... hurt.

Something strange happened to his vision and he watched his own body collapse with a thud against the ice wall. Rivulets of gold quickly seeping into black fabric as he convulsed and fell slack, Dromi and Lædingr falling from the grasp of still-twitching fingers.

"Holy shit." Someone commented, eloquently.

Vaughn's rifle and Maolmuire's blade made short work of the beast who had mysteriously gotten behind the seal.

"Commander..!" A cacophony of meaningless voices that only registered as though from underwater. Gibberish. People shouting, shuffling closer, then back again in sheer disbelief. Distant sounds of magic and gunfire, a yelled warning as more Void began to close in, this time having dug itself out of the avalanche resting outside. Someone at his side, clearly shell-shocked, calling for a medic.

What... what was... going on..? His senses, suspended and disembodied. He willed his hands to move and watched them do so, as though he were a puppetmaster observing his doll.

A lifeless mannequin, dancing on strings. Each string spoke to him in the thousand hushed voices of magic. It hurt. Each string begged him to usher his body back together. The Alchemy danced behind his eyes. A silver serpent, swallowing its own tail. It fucking hurt. It isn't over, it said. You made it so.

You killed your death, now live with it.

The body slumped against the ice seized, more sap spurting out of the stump of its neck. But his spirit held dominion over it yet. That foolish, foolish spirit. Fists clenched, feeling the familiar shape of sword handles. It was jarring. Utterly disorienting, but he closed his eyes, and he allowed the puppet strings of his curse to guide his movements. And he rose, like the countless dead he once commanded.

Now upright, the lich's body stumbled over to where his head lay. He released Lædingr and felt his own fingers in his leaves, and then he willed them to lift.

Only then did he open his eyes. Nothing but blackness and striking blue. Phantom pain pulsed throughout his flesh, and it maddened him. Even now, disconnected from his lungs, he let out a broken laugh - it seemed to reverberate, like the voice of a ghost. The Pact forces turned to face him. Several drew their weapons.

The implications of everything that transpired in this cave would wait.

"Just... let me handle this. Nobody dies here... but me."

He was the expendable one. He was the sacrificial lamb. And he was the wolf, draped in lambskin. Every death he took instead of another was penance. His every breath was a lie, for as long as nobody knew the true extent of the monster he really was.

Blish' mechanized voice echoed in his mind. This is the end of the line.

No more secrets.

That's right. He was the accursed; The Commander of Death. And all his fallen subjects haunted him.

Maelmordha stepped out of the darkness, Dromi hovering patiently next to his hand as he cast a spell. Without a shred of mercy, phantom fangs crushed the few Void creatures that still remained, grinding them into less than the dust they had come from. And then, all was quiet. Only the winter wind and the buzz of ley magic in his ears.

The Pact troops slowly approached, and with a deep sadness he realized most of their weapons were pointed at him. Their eyes, reflections of terror. And he realized he was still holding his head like a grocery bag.

The necromancer loudly cleared his throat - if a ghostly impression of doing so counted.

"...Excuse me." He fumbled for a moment to place his head where it used to be, making several adjustments before what seemed like blue fire began to knit his flesh back together.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Cinniod confessed, knees giving out as the elementalist violently dry-heaved into the snow. Several worried voices chattered, indistinct. Indecisive. He couldn't blame them - after all, they had just witnessed their hero turn out to be a villain. Perhaps Joko had been right - at least in the sense that both of them were abominations.

Perhaps the world would one day need saving - from him. But until then, he could still work to make it better.

"Soldiers."

His troops shuffled uncomfortably. They had every right to. Monster, someone snarled. He smiled.

"A good friend once told me.. to stop keeping secrets. I admit I fumbled that spectacularly. So, now, there you have it."

"Fucking knew you can't have killed a god." Vaughn spat, lips trembling over angry fangs. He raised his rifle, claw hovering dangerously over the lever. "Without selling your soul for power."

He laced his fingers, and smiled apologetically. There was no resentment in his eyes, only understanding. No words to make it better. Only open ears, to hear what was overdue. The price for this betrayal. At the very least, he had managed to keep up the act until the Dragon War was over. This operation? He would gladly step down if asked. Though Logan had been aware from the start, they both agreed on one thing: keep it under wraps. And if the cat ever gets out of the bag, then, well...

"Soldier." He addressed the charr. "While we're still on the field, your behavior is mutiny. Reconsider."

"Fucking bold of you to talk, monster!"

"And pray tell, what will shooting me accomplish that cutting off my head failed to?"

The Lieutenant snarled, but slowly lowered his gun. Bronze eyes gazing with nothing but pure disgust at the sylvari who seemed to be, despite all, a picture of flawless stoicism. All a part of his charm. Every liar needed a strong façade.

The Commander opened his mouth to speak. Maolmuire, however, had other ideas.

"Everyone! Don't you know the Void's properties have been evolving? Didn't you hear about the haze in the Gyala Depths?"

Maelmordha sighed. "Maolmuire..."

"It's messing with us. This is a mass hallucination!"

It seemed he had to be more... forceful.

"Maolmuire, stop! You've said enough."

"You're complicit, huh, you malformed weed?" Tornbanner sneered. "All you hivemind bastards were in on it from the get-go."

The necromancer focused his gaze on the Iron Legionnaire, something dark in his eyes that sent a shiver of dread up the warrior's spine. "I'm asking for the last time, Lieutenant Tornbanner. As for everyone else. I do not intend to falsify the truth, and welcome those who wish to report the incident to do so at their leisure."

He could feel an era close with his words. Despite everything, still he smiled. Time and time again, he found a way to smile in the face of those who doubted him. Always, he would.

"It is overdue that I stand in front of the Pact War Tribunal for my crime against Tyria and her people. But first... Lieutenant, report. Is everyone alright?"

Something shifted behind Vaughn's eyes. Flews slipping over jutting fangs - a predator that only stood down knowing its might to be no use. Not in front of a Godkiller. A Dragonslayer. A... whatever this man even was.

"Nobody was badly hurt... Maelmordha." The name tasted like venom on his tongue. "I answered you. So now, you'll answer us."

"I will, rest assured." Without further ado, the choppers descended, extending ladders. The necromancer looked away, turning his gaze to the sky.

"Everyone. It was an honor to be your Commander."

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part five (chapter 13-15) previous part • next part

word count: 5.1k

content warnings: none!

Lily

Thursday through Saturday dragged by as if it was three weeks rather than three days and my upcoming date with Paige sat like the light at the end of the tunnel.

We were both equally as busy with classes, homework and Paige with basketball and me with work that we had gone the entirety of Thursday and Friday without seeing each other. Of course, we'd spoken on the phone but it wasn't the same so by the time Saturday arrived I was practically craving Paige.

Kelsey and I had picked up an afternoon coffee and I walked her to her shift at one of the cafès on campus. I was on my walk back to my apartment when my phone rang, it was Paige.

"Hello pretty girl."

"Hi Paige."

"I'll pick you up at six thirty, so be ready."

"You don't have to pick me up, I can meet you at your apartment if that's easier."

"I'll be picking you up, Lily."

"Yes ma'am."

Paige had still refused to give me even the smallest clue as to what our date would consist of but I did manage to get a 'casual' dress code out her, although what that meant - I don't know.

I spent the short walk home going through casual outfit options in my head that could be acceptable to wear on a date and came to one conclusion:

I needed to consult Hannah.

"And she's not even hinted at where you could be going?" Hannah asked and I shook my head, "Nope."

"Oh, this is fun though! Paige Bueckers - the romantic." She squealed as she rifled through my closet. "Are you excited?"

I nodded, a huge smile spreading on my face, "So excited."

"You seem really happy Lily." Hannah said turning to me, her hands full of clothes.

"I feel really happy." I say honestly because I do. This is the best I've felt since before everything happened but unfortunately I know my brain and I know this feeling isn't forever but I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

"Show me my options then." I say to Hannah and she brings multiple sets of clothes over to me and lays them out on my bed.

"Casual is a broad spectrum, your girlfriend left us with a lot of choice."

"She's not my girlfr-"

Hannah cuts me off with a wave of her hand, "Tomayto, tomahto." She says.

"Theres a jeans, skirt and yoga pants option." She explains pointing to each pile of clothes.

Mom jeans were a staple of almost all my outfits so naturally that's what I strayed to. Hannah had choosen a light denim wash pair of jeans with a long sleeve white off the shoulder top.

"I think I'll go with that." I say picking up the other two outfits and putting them back in my closet.

"Good choice! I'll leave you to get ready." She says walking out of my bedroom.

I take my time getting ready because a rushed Lily is a stressed Lily and a stressed Lily is grumpy and I wanted tonight to be perfect.

I decided to curl my hair instead of straightening it for once and hoped Paige would like it, she's never seen with curls before. I did my usual simple makeup and before I knew it, I had checked the time at it was 6:20PM. Paige would be here in ten minutes.

I gathered my necessities and stuffed them into my hand bag: wallet, keys, lipbalm.

I snapped a picture of myself and sent it to Emma and she replied instantly with a series of immature, teenage boy-esque emojis, I giggled out loud at my best friend.

At 6:30PM on the dot, there was a knock on our apartment door, "I think that's for you." Madison said peeking her head round my bedroom door before her, Hannah and Kelsey all retreated into her room.

My stomach fluttered as if I was on a blind date and I was about to see the person I was going out with for the first time. But when I opened the door to reveal Paige, my Paige, that I know so well, my stomach settled and any nerves were replaced with warmth.

Paige was wearing black cargo pants and a hot pink sweater, she had a bag slung across her body and her hair was sleek and straight, tucked behind her ears.

Her blue eyes shone bright against the pink of her sweater and I was speechless for a second.

"Hi Lils." She says a small smirk playing on her lips, "These are for you." She produces a large bunch of pale pink peonies from behind her back.

"P, they're beautiful." I gush taking the bouquet from her and admiring the flowers.

We quickly step inside so I can put them in a vase with water, "Ready?" I turn to Paige once my flowers are neatly displayed.

"Ready, pretty girl." She says and follows me out of the apartment.

"You look so good." I compliment her as we get into her car, "I think pinks your colour."

"Thank you." She says a small shy smile on her face.

Paige refuses to answer my hundreds of questions about where we're going, she practically drives in silence ignoring my pleads for 'just one clue'.

"Lily, has anyone ever told you 'patience is a virtue'?" She asks turning to look at me as we stop at a stop sign.

"Paige, I'm a passenger princess, not a patient princess." I tell her as we begin to drive again.

"Well princess, you don't have to be patient anymore. We're here." She says taking one more turn before bringing the car to a stop outside of a church.

To say I was confused was an understatement. Paige was very open about her faith and she would often tell me how important it was to her but I struggled to see how this would be a date setting.

"You tryna make me your wife already?" I joke as Paige opens my door for me and I step out into the cool, New England fall air.

She just laughs, slipping her hand into mine and begins walking us towards the perfectly sculpted building.

"No, seriously Paige." I stop us in our tracks. I had a complicated relationship with my religion and Paige knew that.

"Just trust me." She says and begins walking again and I do trust Paige so I followed her.

As we got closer to the entrance, I could see someone at the door as if they were checking tickets, this only deepened my confusion.

I watched intently as Paige opened her emails on her phone and scrolled a little before clicking on one, revealing two barcodes ready to be scanned.

"Good evening." The woman at the door smiled and sweet smile before scanning the codes and handing us a pamphlet each.

Looking down at the paper in my hand, my confusion disappeared but tears prickled in my waterlines, "Paige..." I breathed out looking up at her, the tears threatening to spill.

The pamphlet showed the interior of a chuch, lit entirely by candles with an orchestra in the middle with the title,

Candlelight Concerts:

Lana Del Rey

I was in shock as we walked through the dark church illuminated by, what must be hundreds if not thousands of candles.

Paige lead us to an empty row of seats and we sat side by side, our hands still firmly in each others.

"How did you find this?" I ask her in awe of what I was seeing.

"I have my ways." She responds smiling as the orchestra begins playing Young and Beautiful.

The entire concert was instrumental, played solely by the orchestra and I had goosebumps the entire time.

Lana was my favourite artist ever. Her music had helped me and shaped me in so many ways and to hear it in a way I've never heard it before, so stripped back, so raw was incredibly special to me. And the fact that Paige had thought of me, found this event and brought me here made my entire body tingle with a feeling I'd never felt before.

The orchestra finished with National Anthem and the tears that had been threatening to fall the entire night could no longer be held back.

"You wasn't supposed to cry, pretty girl." Paige says to me as she gently wipes my cheeks.

"They're happy tears." I choke out, "Paige, that was beautiful."

"I'm glad you liked it." She says as we walk out of the church and back to her car.

"I feel like anything I say won't properly articulate how I feel. That meant so much to me, I don't think you understand." I ramble out wanting Paige to know how I felt but not knowing how to express myself.

"I wanted to do something special for you, something you'd remember." She tells me.

"I'll never forget that, P. Never, ever."

We ended our 'first' date paying homage to our actual first date and got frozen yogurt. I had to physically battle Paige to pay for our orders but of course she won.

In one swift movement she had swiped my card out of my hand and held it above her head out of my reach while she tapped her own.

A chill ran over me as we finished our Fro-Yo, I had underestimated the New England weather, I should have brought a jacket.

Paige must have noticed me shiver because she reached round behind my seat and pulled out a hoodie.

A grey UConn Huskies hoodie.

"Here." she says handing it to me and I immediately pull it over my head and down my body, instantly feeling warmer.

Paiges signature vanilla musk wafted up from the sweater and it took me back to that night in bar when I smelt her scent for the first time.

I spent the car ride home focused on how I was going to orchestrate what I wanted to do and after a quick text to Kelsey, by the time we pulled up to my apartment block, I had it figured out.

I began to pull off Paiges hoodie to hand it back to her, "Keep it." She says stopping me, "I've been meaning to give it to you."

"This won't stop me from wearing my UMass one." I tell her, pulling the hoodie back down.

"But this one suits you so much better. You look good in my clothes." She says tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "You also look good with curls." She adds, running her fingers through the ends of my hair.

As always, Paige walked me to my front door, "Come in for a second?" I ask hoping her answer would be yes and it was.

We walked into the living room to my roommates watching Netflix, Rachel Greens voice playing out loud through the apartment. We said quick hello's before going into my bedroom.

"It looks like a bomb exploded in here." Paige laughs looking around my messy bedroom, the mess I had created while getting ready.

"I was trying to look my best for you." I say quickly tidying stray makeup products away as I searched for what I needed.

"You do that without trying, Lils."

"Here." I spin around to Paige, a pair of scissors clutched in my grasp and I extend them out to her.

She takes them from me, even though I know she's confused from the way her brows are scrunched, "What are these for?"

I don't say anything, knowing that my actions will speak louder than my words. I roll up my sleeve uncovering the thread bracelet Kelsey had tied round my wrist mere months ago, "I'm over this club." I say.

Paiges eyes widened slightly in realisation, "For real?" She asks stepping closer to me.

I nod, "For real." And I watch as Paige takes the braided bracelet between two fingers and holds it off my wrist before closing the scissors on it, cutting the thread clean of my arm.

"Lily, will you be my girlfriend?" She asks unable to hide her smile.

My expression mirrors hers, "Yes. I'll be your girlfriend." I say and she drops the scissors so both her hands are free to cup my face as she leans down to kiss me.

Muffled cheers and whoops come from the living room and Kelsey yells out 'finally!' and I silently curse the thin walls of our student accommodation as I continue to kiss Paige, my girlfriend.

My girlfriend, Paige.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

Lily

"What do you want for your birthday?" I asked Paige as we sat side by side in a booth at, what had become our favourite Italian restaurant to get dinner at.

"You." She flirts, slipping her arm around my waist and squeezing my hip, heat rushing to my cheeks at her touch.

"You've already got me." I tell her just as our food begins to arrive.

Paige had gone for an alfredo and I ordered my all time favourite, lasagna.

"Are you excited for your party?" I ask Paige.

Paiges birthday was exactly a week away and her party was a day later on the Saturday. Her dad, stepmom and brother Drew were coming into town to spend the weekend and I was excited to meet them in real life after many FaceTime calls.

"Yes, I can't wait to have a weekend off with all my favourite people." She says as she sips on her, you guessed it, Shirley Temple.

"Azzi has planned this party as if it's your bachelorette." I laughed thinking of Azzis endless lists and frantic shopping trips to get everything into place.

"She's the queen of planning, I said I'd help but she said I'd just get in the way." Paige responds shrugging her shoulders as if there's no valid reason her best friend had come to that conclusion.

I drove us back to Paiges apartment after dinner, "Are you not coming up?" She asks me as I pull up, stopping the car but not turning it off.

I reach for my phone and text Azzi, letting her know I'm downstairs.

I shake my head, "I have plans." I say suspiciously.

"Which are?" She asks furrowing her brows, Paige knew what I was doing and what I had planned at almost all times, that's just how we were.

I tapped the side of my nose indicating it was a secret.

"Well, I'm coming." She says adamantly, not moving from her place in my car.

"Paige, you can't." I say as the main entrance to the apartment building opens and out walks Azzi, Caroline, Nika and KK.

"Why?" She huffs not noticing her friends and teammates approaching.

"Because we may or may not be getting your birthday gifts."

"We?"

"Move it, Bueckers." Azzi says opening the door and practically dragging Paige out of the car.

"Oh, I see how it is." Paige nods as her friends bundle into my car.

"Don't miss us too much." I call out of my window and Paige walks round to me pressing a kiss to my lips.

"OK, I know we call you our parents but enough with the PDA." KK groans and fake gags from her seat behind me.

"Enough of that or you'll come home to all your Trü Frü eaten." Paige quips.

"Don't you dare, Paige!" KK yells as I drive off laughing.

Nika controls the aux on our journey to the mall and it really shows me why her and Paige call each other 'twin', she could have easily been playing Paiges playlist - thats how similar their music taste is.

We strolled around the mall, trailing into store after store all looking for the perfect gift for Paige.

"What about these?" Nika says holding up a pair of white Nike sneakers with lavender accents, Azzi and I nod immediately, "Yes! She'd love those." I encourage and Nika calls over the sales assistant to ask if they have Paiges size.

"Are you really not going to show us what you got in that jewellery store?" KK asks me as we wait and I shake my head, "No, not yet. I mean Paige will probably show you anyway." I say to the girl.

"It's not an engagement ring is it?" She asks eyebrows raised and I laugh, "No KK, it's not an engagement ring."

"Did I hear engagement ring?" Caroline asks joining us on the couch in the store.

"Yes, but I also said not in that sentence too. I'm not proposing to Paige guys, we've been girlfriends for like two weeks."

"She'd probably say yes, you know." Azzi says matter of factly, catching me off guard.

"I don't think so." I reply.

"Lily are you kidding? She's so down bad for you." Her best friends assures.

"Like down bad, down bad." KK agrees.

"Really?" I ask. I know Paige likes me obviously, we wouldn't be dating if not, we've never really spoken about it but I assume Paige has had her fair share girlfriends in her time and I'm just one of many.

"She never stops talking about you. It's always Lily this and Lily that."

"And you practically live at our place." Azzi says, "In our time at UConn, she's never had a girl stay over for..more than one night." And she makes a face at the fact she just exposed her friends hook ups.

"But since you've been around, it's only been you." Caroline says putting an arm over my shoulder, "You've locked her down."

"I hope so." I say.

I don't care what Paige did before we got together, I had a life too but I smile at the fact that she's changed for me and suddenly my sentimental gift doesn't seem so cringy so I show the girls what I bought.

"She's going to love that Lils." Nika says as she joins us with Paiges present in her hand.

"She's actually going to be insufferable about it." Azzi fake groaned as we left the sneaker store.

"It's not...too much?" I ask still feeling slightly insecure about my gift.

"Have you met Paige?" KK says, "It's perfect. Stop overthinking."

"Have you met me? Overthinking is my middle name." I half joke because obviously it isn't but the girls know me well enough now to know about my turbulent mental health and how much I otherthink almost everything.

Once we all have our gifts for Paige, the last thing we pick up at the mall is ingredients for a cake. After a lot of persuasion, Azzi finally agreed to allow me to bake Paiges cake and I was taking the task very seriously.

"$150 on ingredients for a cake is insane." Nika says as we pile back into my car ready to head home. "That would have been like €30 in Croatia."

I drove us all back to campus with Nika on aux again and dropped the girls off at their apartment before driving to mine.

"I'm back." I call as I enter the apartment letting my roommates know I was home.

"Hey Lils." Madison greets me from the kitchen, "How was the shopping trip?"

"Successful!" I say placing my bags on the table.

"Show us what you got your girlfriend." Kelsey says in a sing-song voice.

For the president of Single Sisters, I must say, Kelsey is mine and Paiges number one fan. She even goes as far to call us Pily - she was stuck between that or Laige but apparently that 'didn't sound right'.

I show my roommates what I got Paige and they reassured me that she would love it.

"I kinda got her a present too." Kelsey says.

"Really?" I ask confused. Sure, Kelsey and Paige were friends through me but I never imagined they'd be friends to the point of buying each other birthday gifts.

Kelseys skips off to her bedroom and returns seconds later with a small organza bag in her hand.

"Here, look." She says handing me the bag.

I open it and peak inside, I immediately laugh.

"What club are these for?" I ask pulling out the two thread bracelets, similar to the ones Kelsey and I had, just a different colour way.

"No more clubs." She waves her hand in dismissal, "I just thought it would be a funny gift, you guys don't have to wear them if you don't want to."

"I love them Kels and I know Paige will too. You should give them to her." I hand her back the bracelets.

"Good idea. I'm yet to have the 'you better not hurt my best friend' chat so that'll be the perfect time." She laughs.

"Play nice." I joke before taking Paiges gift to my bedroom to wrap and write out her card.

I like to think words are my speciality. I've spent my life writing in journals and expressing my thoughts that I could never put into words and I intend to do the same for Paige.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

Lily

Azzi really had gone above and beyond for her best friends birthday. Paige's celebrations were starting with a dinner tomorrow tonight with the team and her family before going to a karaoke bar. Then the day after was her party. Azzi had hired a private room in the back of Huskies and had invited everyone they knew on campus.

My apartment had been used as storage for the endless amount of decorations and balloons that Azzi had ordered meaning Paige had been temporarily banned as to not spoil anything.

"It's seriously messed up that I have to wait outside." Paige huffed as I bundled out of my front door simultaneously pulling a sweater over my head, Connecticut was getting cold.

"Azzi has put a lot of thought into this and she wants you to be surprised." I say stretching up on my tip toes to kiss my girlfriend hello.

"It's not like its a surprise party, I know it's happening." She continued to argue as we took the elevator down.

"I'm changing the subject now." I say getting into the passenger seat, "How was your workout?"

Paige nods and like clockwork flexes her biceps, "What do you think?" She smirks.

"I think we should get going, your family has been at their hotel for an hour already." I say to her. Paiges family flew in from Minnesota earlier today and we were going to meet them so Paige could introduce me before tonight.

“Just feel them." She persists, arm still flexed.

"Paige..."

"You know how many people would pay to feel my guns and you get them for free, pretty girl."

I reach out and wrap my hand around her arm - admittedly my hand doesn't wrap all the way around - and I press down slightly on the hard muscle.

"So strong." I say sarcastically but my red cheeks are far from sarcastic.

"Do you need to pee or something?" Paige asks me as I shuffle from foot to foot as we wait for the elevator to take us up to her family.

"No, just..." I look up into her big blue eyes, "just nervous." I admit and she giggles softly.

"Don't be nervous Lils. You've spoke to them a million times on FaceTime and they love you already." She says wrapping me in a hug as the elevator dings open.

There was an audible gasp from the other side of the door as we knocked and I smiled at Drews excitement to see his sister.

The door swung open and before I had a moment to compute what was happening, Drew had his arms wrapped around my waist, "Lilyyy." He beemed up at me with the cheesiest grin.

"Hi Drew." I smile and crouch down slightly to hug him. I look to Paige and she has an equally cheesy grin on her face, you could definitely tell they were siblings.

We stay with Paiges family for a while just sitting and talking and Paige catches them up on basketball and just life in general and I realise there was no need to be nervous at all. I felt like I'd known these people my whole life.

"I hope she's treating you good." Paiges dad, Bob says to me with a serious expression.

"She is," I say blushing slightly, "you raised her well."

"I never thought I'd see the day, Paige being in a serious relationship." He says.

"Okayyy." Paige drags out the word as she stands up, "That's our cue to leave." She holds out a hand, I take it and she pulls me up off the couch we were sitting on.

We say quick goodbyes before leaving, knowing that we'd see each other later that evening.

"I'm coming to the realisation that you're quite the player." I joke to Paige as we take the elevator down the the hotel exit.

She laughs, "Really, why?" She asks as she stretches in front of me to the press the button.

"Just what your dad said and Azzi may have implied something too." I say slightly awkwardly my eyes not daring to look in Paiges direction.

"What did Azzi say?"

"Just that I was the first girl you'd had stay more than one night."

"Does that bother you?"

I shake my head, "No, I just can't imagine you being like that."

"I wasn't always like that." Paige says as we walk through the hotel lobby back to her parked car.

"What does that mean?" I ask only now looking towards her but she isn't looking at me.

"It doesn't matter." She says walking a few steps ahead.

I speed up my steps so I'm next to her again, "Paige," I grab her arm to stop her walking, "you can tell me. I won't judge you."

"I know you won't, it's not that. It was so long ago, I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."

"But it's still something that happened to you and if you want to tell me, I'd like to know." I say to her genuinely. I've never seen Paige so awkward and uncomfortable, she can't even look at me.

"Let's get in the car." She says and I follow her to her car, getting into the passenger seat as she gets into the drivers seat.

I half expect Paige to just begin driving and ignore my offer to speak about this but she doesn't turn the car on, instead she focuses her eyes on the steering wheel, hands placed firmly at each side.

I stay silent not wanting to push her, clearly this is a difficult conversation for her to have but I want her to know I'm here so I reach over tucking her blonde hair behind her ear, my hand falling to the back of her neck and resting there.

"It was my freshman year," She begins and I'm grateful that she's comfortable to speak, "I had finally come to terms with who I was and who I loved and there was this girl and we were just friends at first but it became more than that pretty quickly and to me, it was obvious what we were..." She pauses shuffling in her seat to look at me for the first time. My eyes lock onto hers and I nod for her to carry on.

"But I guess it wasn't as obvious to her because we went home for Christmas and she came back with a boyfriend and acted like she never knew who I was. Never spoke to me again. I was so confused and hurt and I never wanted to give myself to a person the way I gave myself to her ever again..." She trails off.

I want to say fuck that girl, she never deserved you but I choose my words wisely.

"Paige, I'm so sorry that happened. That's unfair, so unfair. You didn't deserve that."

"It was like she was embarrassed of me and I never wanted that to happen again so everything and everyone since then has been casual. Nothing serious enough for me to get hurt again."

"You know I'd never do that to you right? I'd never hurt you. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time and I want everyone to know it. I'd shout it from the rooftops. You're not embarrassing to me, Paige. You're everything to me." I tell my girlfriend, my hand now secured in hers.

"I know Lily, I can feel it. We wouldn't be here if I didn't. You just met my family, the most important people in my life. Meeting you made me realise that whatever I had with Marianna wasn't real. This is real." She says and I can see her shoulders relax like a weight has been lifted and I just get the sudden urge to say what I've been feeling for a while now.

"I love you, Paige. I am in love with you and I'll tell you that everyday just so you know how much I mean it."

Paiges eye widen then soften immediately, I don't care if she doesn't say it back. It's how I feel and I wanted her know and now felt like the time to do that.

"Lily." Paiges voice is soft and sweet and I prepare myself for her to not say it back and I avert my gaze.

"Lily," Paige starts again and her hand moves my face to look back at her, "I love you. Of course I love you. I hoped that was obvious." She says smiling now and I can't help but smile back.

It was obvious, Paige loves so deeply and openly with no holding back that it's impossible to not feel it.

"It is." I say still smiling.

"Good." She replies before kissing me and it feels different than usual. It feels like the first time we kissed on the basketball court. My stomach flutters as her hand caresses my jaw, her lips on mine moving in perfect synchrony.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[manctuf]

David Howard Thornton × reader

«Now forever»

Content: NSFW, female reader, writing in the third person, the girl's name is Caroline

description: meeting of old friends at one of the photo shoots ends very interestingly

number of words: 2296

A slight excitement before the upcoming was expressed by a twitching eyelid and a leg that almost tap-danced on the floor while sitting. It could not be said that the people in the area were calm, because such a guest appears on their site for the first time, but there was one small "but". If they were thinking about how not to screw up and please the actor, the girl who studied with him in the same school, was a class below and literally watched how from a schoolboy who was very energetic, good-natured and simple, he became so famous and memorable that now when people look at him, an image of a bloodthirsty sociopath with obvious deviations in the head, from a well-known film, inadvertently pops up in their heads, and it is even perhaps a pity that he was remembered exactly like this, because you knew him completely differently, worried about whether he would recognize her? Will he even talk or will it be so bad that he will have to leave the well-lit room where the only sound you can hear is the sound of cameras with his eyes wet.

- Carolina! - a woman of about thirty, who was responsible for the lighting, calls him over for the first time and places him in the center of the room to check how the lighting will be, and then just as quickly waves her hand to the side, as if to let him know that she can now go.

A large zebra-print sweater, apparently a semblance of a man's cardigan, black mom jeans, several plain T-shirts, gray high-waisted jeans, white trousers, several tracksuits and a couple of hats, along with shoes. This was exactly the choice David had today, big enough not to complain. He had to stand over this choice the longest. I tried to remember his favorite colors, associations, but nothing came of it, as if the wind had blown them away, although I clearly remembered how twenty years ago I tried, putting together a gift for his birthday, having asked all his friends about what he preferred to wear and what sweets he liked.

— Come on, hurry up, why are you standing there? — the photographer's voice prompts her to stand up straight, shake herself off and move away from the windowsill where she had been sitting.

The long-awaited click of the front door and her heart is already flying out of her chest. A familiar voice with a familiar chuckle, her palms are sweating. The sound of heavy steps and breathing finally comes to naught.

The first few seconds, just silently looking at each other, she had already thought that he would not even understand who was standing in front of him. But the next words make her change her mind.

— Hello. — Not formally, he finally recognized her. Having shaken his hand, she had to quickly run to the other ends of the room. He, because he had heard from almost the entire photographer's team how glad they were that he had contacted their agency. And Carolina... Carolina pretended that standing near the cooler and adjusting the hangers with clothes from time to time was a very exciting activity.

He hadn't shown up since they had to move to different parts of America, he hadn't written or called, although I still remembered how he had calmed her down and said that he would always be there, but in Itola it turned out that the schools separated them completely, I think. Of course, it was unpleasant, but quite expected. She herself hadn't kept in touch, she hadn't shown up in personal messages and there had been no missed calls either, only the hope that someday a notification would come that such a person had logged into the account, or even left a comment or liked a photo, in which case he wouldn't have to do anything else, she would have understood everything. But that didn't happen.

- Let's do this, then? - She held out another thing that the man would just as quickly put aside. He did it as if on purpose, while the others had a smoke break and were in the entryway, but of course both of them refused such an initiative, deciding to stay in the apartment. - What's wrong? I can't understand. It seemed like they let me know that you like these jeans. - Hopelessly sitting down on the sofa, she crossed her legs, pulling the sleeve of her sweater, not knowing where else to put her eyes.

- I'm just wondering, are you going to keep pretending that you're seeing me for the first time? - Talking completely off topic, he stood not far from the same sofa, looking at the girl absolutely calmly.

- What should I do? Jump on your neck and ask for an autograph? - Smiling nervously, she didn't understand at all why he even brought up this topic, she wanted to finish as soon as possible. She knew that her inner self wanted to do exactly that, but without an autograph. There is no doubt that she still has feelings for him, but is there a chance for anything after so many years? Maybe, maybe, for discussing their breakup, which never happened, since the conversation ended in the usual silence, without saying goodbye and presenting this situation as stupid as possible.

- You know that's not what I mean. - A disappointed look rests on the floor and rushes to the exit, the door to which opened and immediately laughter and the interruption of some unfinished story were heard.

For an hour, maybe two, they spun around, choosing the angle, pose and only had time to hand him new clothes and put away the old ones. They had never puffed so much over filming, but David was cheerful and this allowed the film crew not to lose heart and not lose their previous mood.

But everything passed almost as quickly as it began. Literally blinking, you already roll up all your things in special bags and wait for him to give you the last T-shirt and hold it out, looking out the doorway.

The language was completely boneless, and the emotions that she felt, realizing that they would not meet again only added fuel to the fire. Although, maybe this is a plus? In that case, she will no longer have to embarrass herself like that, being in the same room with him.

- You know, really. - She had just started, but the rustling behind the door had already stopped, because the man had started listening. - If I could rewind time, I would have given up this damn idea of ​​going to another university, far away from you. - Her palm carefully rests on the wooden block in front, slightly moving the pad of her index finger. - I didn't want to break up then, I wasn't ready. - Silence follows in response, and the thought that he couldn't care less creeps into her head. All she has to do is wait for him to come out, pick up her things, and go home. Half an hour and she'll be home, that's all.

But the door opens, and he apparently hasn't even started changing yet, since he was standing there in his old clothes. His eyebrows are thoughtfully furrowed, and his eyes are looking straight into her brown ones.

- And do you want to now? - And at that moment, time probably stops. The shaking of his hands intensifies, and his lips instantly dry out, but at the same time, holding himself, as if, with dignity, he clasps his hands together, saying.

- no.

For him, these words were enough to exhale with relief, but at the same time he still looked tense. His hand carefully falls on the girl's shoulder, from there to her neck and finally to her cheek. Automatically, the girl moves away, while tears are already starting to accumulate in her eyes. She did not know where to step, and on her shoulders, as if a little devil and an angel were arguing about what decision was best for her to make.

- stop it, David. Let's not. - she did not want to return to those days when she lived from meeting to meeting with him, when she could not sleep after rare, but memorable conflicts, which of course were quickly resolved, but still memorable. - I don't want to.. - and he doesn't listen to her in response, only takes her hand, strokes and soothes her, while she surrenders and sinks into his embrace, so long-awaited and close. Rubbing her eyes quickly, she only pressed herself tighter against his strong chest. Now it seemed that if she moved even a meter, the world would definitely collapse.

- I'm so glad.. So glad to see you. - kissing her on the top of her head, he stroked her back, showing that she had nothing to worry about, at least while she was in the same building with him.

Completely single, without a gold ring on his finger and without bruises under his eyes. Having stolen not only her first kiss when she was fourteen, but also her heart, now probably forever. She never thought that she could love someone for so long, she didn't think that she would literally melt from just hugs and she couldn't imagine that she would ever meet him again.

Therefore, just one look at him, raising her head, simply leaves no chance to leave.

Lips, like hands, clasp together, before she can even blink. She has to stand on her toes, but he, easing her torment, leans forward, only deepening the kiss. Like wild ones, they slam the door and, turning the lock from the inside, lock it. He sits her down on a decorative table carved from mahogany, but one extra movement and a bowl of candy for guests falls to the floor, but does not break, scattering treats over a good half of the room. The wildness goes off the scale, clinging to the T-shirt on him, helping to take it off, not wanting to move even half a meter away. A few minutes and almost all the clothes are scattered on the chairs. They don't give a damn that they will be wrinkled later.

- David, please, be careful.. - he blurts out in one breath, licking his lips after the kiss. He watches as he feels her, takes off her underwear and lightly squeezes her breast, leaving one kiss on the right.

There was no embarrassment. There was an irresistible desire to get more, to take it completely and submit to the situation, to him.

A couple of smooth movements inside, fingers pushing apart the labia, already forcing her to almost whine out loud, getting by with a guttural moan. There was catastrophically little time, they were not alone and at any moment someone could knock on their door or even hear what they were doing. But this only added spice.

Taking off his boxers, he enters not even halfway, and Carolina is already going crazy. From his appearance, from everything that is happening and the thought that now she is having the one she has loved for as long as she can remember. Trying to ignore the pain, because the size of his penis was clearly larger than those of her friends' boyfriends according to their stories, she again reaches for a kiss, squinting and squeezing inside, and he does not stop there, moves forward, tunes in to the right pace and enters completely, because of which she sharply arches her back, like a cat, grabs his broad shoulders, screaming, but looking at the door she tries to shut up, because unnecessary problems are clearly not needed.

The thrusts become more intense, she covers her face with her hands, because she feels how red she is, but he moves them aside, unable to bear it, holds them over Carolina's head and this only excites them both even more.

The position changed, for convenience he took her by the hips, and she wrapped her legs around his lower back, leaning her back against the wall, sometimes relaxing and barely holding on to him, and sometimes it became clear that it was better without biting until blood.

Splashes, slaps, muttering and groans merged together, composing a whole symphony, but when things went to extremes, he had to bite his own hand to shut up and not behave like. The girl's whining and bleating made the brunette understand that literally another minute, maybe two, and she would finally go limp in his arms.

And so it happened.

Squeezing his cheeks with her palms, she stared at him, feeling such a tight knot of excitement somewhere inside that she wanted to scream, do anything, but definitely not be silent, she hugged him by the neck, because the recharge was about to happen, without warnings and becomings before the fact.

- David. - a hoarse, dehydrated voice sounded after so much time. - more.. Please, faster.

He simply has no right to go against her will, so taking her more comfortably, he did what she asked. A couple of jerks and they both cum. Carolina with his name on her lips, and the man with the imprint of his hands on her buttocks.

The heart did not stop beating furiously, and the understanding of everything that they had done came only now.

- open the door! It's time for us to go, what are you doing there?! - and the words of the photographer only now reach the ears. Judging by the intonation, he asks to do this not for the first time. - do not detain either me or yourself.

In response to this, they only smile, pressing their foreheads to each other. It seems that the long-awaited reunion of souls has finally happened. Now forever.

[moiraimyths]

Is it ok to ask how many endings there are so far? I like to know in advance

So far, there are technically no endings, since only 50% of Shae and Maeve's routes are out at the moment! However: Each route will have a good ending and bad ending, with variations depending on if your relationship is romantic or platonic. If you're worried about hitting a bad end, part of our design philosophy is to give players opportunities to naturally course-correct, so we've included scene variations to "warn" you about your choices.

Some signs may be more subtle than others: Shae/Maeve or the MC may say something that seems off in the moment, but wouldn't mean much in isolation. Other signs will be pretty overt, i.e. toxic behaviours from the love interest that would not have otherwise occurred if not for player enabling/encouragement. Maeve's route is a bit more upfront about these changes than Shae's, for now. Either way, atm there's no harm in replaying to see what differences are triggered in the gameplay! You can always go back and change your choices later.

Oh, and, pay attention to your dreams. They're usually trying to tell you something ;)

[erasinglines]

he won't say it, wouldn't dare to be the one to utter those words— the fact that she would always open the door, no matter the time, nor how long it's been, is part of the problem. not that he's saying his inclination to take advantage of that is any better. in fact, he's fully aware that it's probably much worse, but... fuck, neither of them are doing any favours for each other, alright? she doesn't show him any mercy, with what she says next, the weight of it like a sucker punch directly to the gut. the room seems to shrink around them, each word echoing through his mind like a siren's call, reminding him of his own choices, his failures. the weight of his pride was like a boulder in his stomach, heavy and unyielding, because letting him live here, supporting him financially, well, bringing it up now is like shining a spotlight on the festering wound. it's true, though. he knew she'd never turn him away, but he hadn't wanted to be that guy— the one who couldn't handle his own shit, who had to rely on someone else. hadn't wanted to be so pathetic, asking for handouts. and yet, look how he ended up tonight. fingers run though his hair, mussing the already disheveled curls. it's easier this way, to focus on that, on all she provides to setup his spot on the couch. " no, this is good, " he nods awkwardly, reaching forward to fluff up the pillow just to give his hands something to do. " thanks for this. and, erm, for the reminder, too, i guess. " he tries to play it cool, but the blush creeping up his neck gives him away. " i should probably stop bothering you, anyway... sleep this off, " that's code for i'm going to avoid this conversation at all costs, but should she really expect anything different from him? " stop embarrassing myself further, and all that. "

"yeah, well. i think we both know i'm never not gonna let you in. no matter how fucked our situation is." just go ahead and add that to their grocery list of problems. exes aren't supposed to want to interact post breakup, much less invite them to crash on their couch, and yet here emma is. still inclined to take care of the guy that broke her heart. it'd be easier to hate him, obviously, and if she could find a way to stop worrying about where he rests his head at night, her life would probably be a whole lot easier. but noah is part of her, intrinsically, even after all this time, and he's proving to still be a hard habit to kick. "i mean, jesus, dude. i would have covered your rent and let you live here for free. you know that, right?" it's clearly neither the time nor place to admit such a thing — to call him out on not trusting her to understand his situation — but this whole night's fucked anyway, like they're living in an episode of the twilight zone, so she figures she doesn't have much to lose. of course, she's still somewhat of a coward, so she busies herself with grabbing spare pillows and blankets from the closet. it's easier to keep talking, to admit things, when she isn't looking at him. "i still don't understand why you didn't just ask me to help." maybe it should be left as water under the bridge, but considering the fact he was two seconds away from being inside her tonight, she figures it needs to be addressed. and then she's walking back into the living room and tossing everything onto the couch, lips pressed together so she doesn't admit anything else. "... sorry, that wasn't helpful." just let him be, emma. "i, uh. is there anything else you need?"

[sqtorux]

chat how do we feel about an interactive fic :3