#this chapter is about as long as the last one but also feels so much: bigger

[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Orginal Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 2

Tori adored teaching dance almost as much as she loved performing, but a last-minute call from another of the instructors meant she’d been tasked with taking the class instead, completely throwing off her dinner plans with Jude. 

Rather than having him collect her from her apartment, they decided that Jude would swing by the dance studio to pick Tori up before they made their way to his place, where his chef was set to prepare dinner for the two of them.

“Beautiful girls! One more run-through and we are done for the day.” Tori exclaimed to her class of preteens as she pressed play starting the piece of music they were dancing to over. 

The energy in the studio was electric as the music filled the air, a vibrant mix of rhythm and melody. Tori clapped her hands together, energizing her students, their eager faces lighting up with excitement. She loved moments like this, watching the girls, full of enthusiasm, moving in sync with the beat, their innocence reminding her of her childhood passion for dance.

As the music started, Tori took a step back, her eyes roaming over the eager faces, filled with determination as they followed her instructions. She couldn’t help but smile, swept away by their spirit. Each pirouette, every leap they executed, ignited the love she had for her craft—teaching them not only the moves but also the joy and confidence that dance could bring into their lives.

“Let’s focus on those transitions, girls! Remember to keep your arms fluid and your movements sharp!” she encouraged, her words ringing above the music, infusing her students with motivation.

Despite her excitement, Tori felt a longing in her chest. She had been looking forward to dinner with Jude, the thought of their intimate evening together floating in her mind like a sweet dream. But all of that anticipation had now transformed into a fleeting thought as she poured herself into the class.

“Five, six, seven, eight! And one, two, three… spin!” Tori counted, her body moving lightly along with the girls, demonstrating the moves with a grace she had honed over countless performances. The music surged, and she felt her energy rising, moving through the routine seamlessly.

As the final notes of the song echoed through the studio, Tori turned down the music and clapped her hands together, signalling an end to class. “Great job today, everyone! You’ve all worked so hard! I’m so proud of you!”

The girls erupted in cheers, giddy and full of laughter as they chatted and gathered their belongings. Tori smiled and waved them off, feeling the familiar warmth of pride fill her chest. 

Just as she was packing her bag, her gaze flickered to the clock on the wall. She hoped Jude had arrived by now. There was a flutter of anticipation in her belly at the thought of seeing him.

As she gathered her belongings and cleared what little mess the girls had left behind, Tori’s phone began to ring in her bag. 

She fished it out, her heart racing as she saw Jude's name flash across the screen. A smile broke across her face, and she quickly answered, eager to hear his voice. 

“Hi!” she said, trying to keep her tone light despite the rush of excitement. 

“Hey, beautiful! I’m outside the studio. Are you almost done?” Jude’s voice was warm and inviting, sending a thrill through her.

“Just wrapping up! I’ll be right out,” Tori replied, her heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him. She quickly finished packing her bag, her mind racing with thoughts of the kiss they shared the evening prior. 

“I can’t wait to see you,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Me too! I’m sorry about the change of plans,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jude reassured her, his tone light. “I’m just happy I get to see you. Plus, I’m sure your students needed you.”

Tori felt a rush of warmth at his words. “Thanks! They were amazing today. I love teaching them,” she said, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. 

“Sounds like you had a good time. I’m looking forward to seeing you,” he replied, and she could sense the readiness in his voice. 

“Definitely! I’m leaving the studio now. I'll see you in a second.” Tori said before handing up the phone so she could pull her sweats over the leotard she wore, before putting on her coat and sneakers so she could head out to meet Jude. 

The street outside of the studio was rather empty, barring a sleek black Mercedes parked at the curb, the low smooth rumble of the engine humming from the car before the driver door pushed open and Jude stepped out of it dressed casually in a black sweatsuit. 

Tori’s heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, his attire so much more relaxed than the tuxedo he wore the day before, but just as handsome. 

“Hi,” Tori greeted, her voice softening as she took in the sight of him. The way he stood there, exuding confidence and warmth, made her feel a rush of affection.

“Hi,” Jude repeated, his smile wide and genuine. He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace and Tori couldn't help but inhale his musky scent. She melted into him, as his arms tightened before he released her from his hold. 

“Can I take this?” Jude asked, his voice calm and warm as he reached out, his fingers gently grazing Tori’s as he moved to lift her gym bag from her side. 

“Thank you!” Tori responded, a smile illuminating her face as she surrendered the bag to him. She observed with appreciation as Jude effortlessly hoisted the bag into the trunk of his car, his movements smooth and confident.

Gently closing the trunk with a soft thud, Jude walked around the car, he reached the passenger side and pulled the door open, a warm smile on his face as he gestured for Tori to climb inside. The late afternoon winter sun casting a golden glow over the city. 

Still dressed in her ballet clothes and feeling rather sweaty, she anticipated arriving at Jude's house so she could use his shower. The entire arrangement was slightly bizarre for the first time two people were hanging out.

Their conversation was light and flowing as Jude drove to his house, the traffic not as heavy as expected for a Saturday afternoon much to his delight. 

Tori was in slight awe as she watched the cityscape gradually give way to the suburbs, each house they passed seemingly bigger than the last as they neared Jude’s neighbourhood. 

After an Instagram search of Jude when she got in the night before, it became apparent to Tori that he was a big deal. He had millions of followers across social media and frequent endorsements with massive brands. The realization made her heart race with anxiety.

She hated to make assumptions, but it was seldom that men like Jude came without a flurry of women behind them, regardless of their relationship status. 

Victoria had learned that she was two years older than him, he hailed from the West Midlands and before moving to Madrid he had lived out in Germany where he also played soccer. 

Tori’s mind was racing with thoughts. What if Jude was just another entitled man who enjoyed the thrill of the chase? Dispelling the nagging doubt in her mind she focused on the moment. He had been nothing but genuine with her so far, and their connection felt real.

“So, what’s your chef cooking for us tonight?” Tori smirked, shifting the conversation into safer, more playful territory as the suburban landscape unfolded like a movie set outside the window.

Jude chuckled, glancing over at her with a playful grin. “Whatever you like, that's the beauty of it.” 

Tori raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh really?” 

He nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. “Absolutely. But I have a few suggestions if you don’t know what you want.” 

“What's your favourite meal?” she asked, leaning back slightly in her seat, eager for his input.

“It’s pretty basic but I'm a sucker for a steak,” Jude admitted, a hint of mischief in his voice. “But I think homemade pasta is also a solid backup.”

“I’m not sure if you mean to, but you sound obnoxiously rich right now,” Tori said teasingly, making Jude laugh as he turned the steering wheel, rounding onto another street, showcasing homes that looked as though they could grace the covers of Architectural Digest.

Jude chuckled, shooting her a sidelong glance. “Well, I assure you, I’m really not. I just happen to enjoy good food and have a great chef who makes it all happen. It does make things a lot more enjoyable, though.” 

Tori smiled, feeling more at ease with the playful banter. “If that’s the case, I’m looking forward to dinner.” She paused for a moment, a flicker of curiosity crossing her mind. “What else does your chef cook? Besides the pasta and steak, of course.”

He thought for a moment, a grin spreading across his face, clearly enjoying the conversation. “I try to avoid sugary foods during the season, but he’s a fucking fantastic baker.” 

Tori couldn't help but laugh as she listened to Jude go on about his chef, it was evident that he didn't lead the normal life of a twenty-one-year-old man, but he still seemed extremely down to earth. 

“This is me,” Jude said as he tilted his head towards a tall black gate, before turning into its driveway. 

Reaching for a small fob in the middle compartment of his car, he pressed it and the gate slowly rolled open. 

As the car moved slowly up the gravel driveway, Tori gazed at Jude’s house, a stunning masterpiece of modern architecture. Its sleek lines and minimalist design exuded sophistication, with large glass windows reflecting the soft glow of the setting winter sun. The structure was both imposing and inviting, with a sense of warmth despite its grandness.

The entrance was decorated with two elegant sculptures, and the subtle outdoor lighting highlighted the clean lines of the building, creating an atmosphere of serene luxury.

“Wow, Jude, your house is beautiful,” Tori gushed, her eyes wide with admiration.

Jude parked the car smoothly and turned to her, a proud but modest smile on his face. “Thanks. I wanted it to feel open and welcoming. It’s a bit different from what I grew up in, but I love it.”

As they stepped out of the car, the crunch of gravel under their feet echoed softly in the quiet evening. Jude guided her towards the front door, using his key to open it before allowing her to enter first. 

“I can give you a tour later, but for now would you like anything to drink?” Jude asked as he kicked off his sneakers. 

“Water is fine,” Tori replied, feeling a little flustered but excited. She took in her surroundings, the spacious foyer adorned with modern art pieces and a stylish chandelier that cast a warm glow over everything. 

Following Jude into the kitchen she watched as he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before he turned and handed it to Tori. 

Gracefully accepting the water, Tori trailed behind Jude as he guided her into his living room. The space was warmly lit, and filled with inviting furniture that highlighted a blend of comfort and style. She settled into a soft armchair, the fabric plush against her skin, while Jude took a seat across from her, his demeanour relaxed yet attentive.

Despite the plush comfort of her cushioned seat, Tori couldn't shake the clammy sensation clinging to her skin after a long day of dancing. The remnants of perspiration lingered, making her feel uncomfortable. She turned to Jude, a hint of shyness in her voice, and asked, “Do you mind if I take a shower now?”

“Of course. The guest bathroom is just down the hall,” Jude replied, his smile warm and inviting.

Tori felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Thanks! I won’t be long,” she promised, standing up and making her way toward the hallway. She could feel Jude’s gaze on her as she walked away, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in her chest at the thought of their evening together.

As she stepped into the bathroom, Tori quickly shed her dance clothes, grateful for the opportunity to wash away the day’s exertions. The warm water cascaded over her, soothing her muscles and letting her mind wander. She couldn’t help but think about Jude and how comfortable he made her feel, despite the initial anxiety she had about their relationship.

After a refreshing shower, Tori dried herself off and went to retrieve her clothes from her bag only to realize she’d left them in the living room with Jude. 

Opening the bathroom door, Victoria stepped into the bedroom feeling herself becoming slightly panicked.

Walking over to the bedroom door, she pulled it open and let out a sigh of distress. Tori stood looking out into the dimly lit hallway, feeling utterly exposed and at a loss for what to do. The soft fabric of the towel clung to her damp skin, offering little comfort as she weighed her options. She glanced nervously around Jude's house, its unfamiliar outlines and shadows amplifying her discomfort. Retrieving her bag and clothes from the living room seemed like an impossible task. The thought of wandering through the house, dressed only in a towel, sent a wave of embarrassment crashing over her. She knew she had to muster the courage to make the trek, but the vulnerability of the moment paralyzed her.

“Fuck,” she huffed as she crossed the threshold of Jude’s guest room into the long hallway, goosebumps covering the surface of her skin as she quickly made her way down it, attempting to keep quiet as she went. 

Making her way into Jude’s living room where she left her bag, Tori refused to lift her head as the murmur of the television and the soft glow of the screen filled the room. She could hear Jude’s voice, low and relaxed, as he chatted with someone on the phone. The sound made her heart race, a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling within her. 

Tori took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She could see her bag just a few feet away, but the thought of Jude catching a glimpse of her in just a towel sent her pulse racing. She hesitated, her mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous she must look, how vulnerable she felt. 

“Okay, just grab the bag and get out of here,” she whispered to herself, steeling her resolve. 

With a glance toward the sectional where Jude sat, she darted forward, her bare feet silent against the cool floor. She reached her bag and fumbled with the straps, her fingers trembling slightly as she pulled it into her grasp. Just as she was about to retrieve her clothes, she heard Jude’s voice grow louder, and her heart dropped.

“Yeah, I’ll call you back in a minute,” he said, and Tori froze, her breath caught in her throat. She could hear him moving around, and she knew she had to act fast. 

In a panic, she stood up and quickly turned to head back toward the hallway, but as she did, she bumped into the edge of the coffee table, sending a small decorative item clattering to the floor. 

“Shit!” she whispered, her heart racing as she turned to see Jude’s head snap in her direction. 

“Tori is everything okay?” Jude asked sitting up, reaching for the television remote so he could mute it as he gave her his undivided attention. 

Tori felt her cheeks flush as she stood there, clutching her bag to her chest like a shield. The towel felt even more inadequate under his gaze, and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. 

“Everything’s fine!” she stammered, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I left my bag down here.”

Tori wanted the floor to open up and swallow her, it was only the second time of ever been in Jude's presence and she stood in front of him in nothing but a towel. The vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, and she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. 

Jude’s expression softened a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You know, you could have just called me,” he smirked unable to keep a straight face. 

“My phone is in here, too,” she explained clutching the bag a little tighter. 

“Then you could’ve shouted my name,” he teased, his tone light and playful. “I would have come running.”

Tori couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. “Yeah, right. I’d rather not have you see me like this,” she said, gesturing to the towel that felt like it was shrinking by the second.

“Honestly, you look fine,” Jude replied, his gaze steady and reassuring, although internally he willed himself not to make his gaze slip to her body. “But if you’re uncomfortable, I can cover my eyes until you leave the room.” 

Tori's laughter faded, replaced by a mix of embarrassment and relief. Jude's playful demeanour helped to ease the tension, but the heat in her cheeks remained. She could feel the weight of his gaze, and it sent a shiver down her spine, both thrilling and terrifying.

“Very funny,” she replied, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “Although, I think it's a little late to cover your eyes.”

Jude chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair point. But I promise I’m not going to take a mental picture or anything,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to be polite.”

Tori felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach, but there was something about Jude’s easygoing nature that made her feel a little less exposed. “Thanks,” she said, her voice softening. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be naked in front of you the first time we’re hanging out.”

“What about the second?” Jude teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Tori laughed, shaking her head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I think I’ll stick to clothes for the foreseeable future.”

“You’re beautiful in and out of them,” Jude replied, his tone sincere, and Tori felt her heart skip a beat at the compliment. 

“Wow, smooth talker, huh?” she said, trying to keep her tone light despite the warmth flooding her cheeks and stomach. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Honestly, I’m just speaking the truth,” Jude said, his brow furrowed in sincerity as he looked directly at her. “But really, there’s no need to feel uncomfortable. It’s just a towel, after all. We’re all human, and these moments happen.” His tone was steady, aimed at easing the tension in the room.

Offering Jude a shy smile, Tori turned on her heels and left Jude’s living room so she could head back to the guest room to finally get dressed. 

When she returned she found that Jude was no longer lounging in his living room, making her way into the kitchen Tori couldn't help but smile as she walked into the room to find Jude enthusiastically talking to a greying olive-skinned man. 

“Tori, this is Chef Ruben,” he smiled as he turned to look at her before turning back to him. 

“Nice to meet you,” Tori said, her voice friendly as she extended her hand toward the chef. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, Tori,” Ruben replied, shaking her hand warmly. His eyes sparkled with kindness, and Tori felt instantly at ease. “Jude was telling me you were curious about what was on the menu tonight?”

“Yes, I’m curious! I’ve heard a lot about your cooking,” Tori replied, her enthusiasm genuine. She couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of enjoying a meal prepared by someone who seemed to have such a passion for food.

Ruben chuckled, a warm, welcoming smile spreading across his face. “Well, you’re in for a treat! I’m making a herb-crusted rack of lamb with roasted vegetables and a side of creamy mashed potatoes. If you have room for dessert, I prepared a homemade salted caramel ice cream.” 

Tori’s eyes widened, and she felt her stomach rumble at the mention of the meal. “That sounds incredible! You’re making me hungry just talking about it,” she said, laughing lightly.

Jude leaned against the counter, crossing his arms with a smirk. “I told you,” he said, looking at Tori with a playful glint in his eyes. “Ruben’s cooking is legendary. You’ll never want to eat anywhere else after this.”

Tori chuckled, her excitement palpable. “I can believe it! You’re lucky to have such a talented chef at your disposal.”

Ruben waved a hand dismissively, his face lighting up with a grin as he turned back to the vegetables he'd been preparing. 

“Come with me,” Jude smirked as he held out his hand for Tori to take, leading her back into his living room to allow Ruben his space and give them more privacy. 

Although they had communicated a few times throughout the day, they had yet to bring up the kiss they'd shared the night before after meeting at Tori’s company's gala. 

As they stepped into the living room, Tori felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The atmosphere was cozy, and the faint aroma of herbs and spices wafted in from the kitchen, making her stomach growl with anticipation. 

“So, what do you think of my humble abode?” Jude asked, gesturing around the room with a playful flourish. 

Tori looked around, taking in the elegant décor and modern furnishings. “It’s beautiful. Very… you,” she replied, smiling as she settled onto the plush couch. “I love how open and airy it feels.”

Jude chuckled softly as he sat down beside her, their knees nearly touching. “I wanted it to be a space where people feel comfortable. You know, a place where we can hang out, eat good food, and just enjoy each other’s company.”

The way he spoke sent a flutter through her chest. “I can definitely see that,” Tori said, her voice softening. “It feels welcoming.”

Jude leaned back against the couch, his gaze steady on her. “I’m really glad you could come tonight. I know our plans got a bit jumbled, but I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Me too,” Tori replied, her heart racing slightly as she met his gaze. The air between them felt charged, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I was a bit worried I’d messed things up.”

“Not at all,” Jude reassured her, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch sent shivers down her spine, and Tori felt herself lean into him instinctively. “I think it worked out perfectly. We get to enjoy a great meal and each other’s company.”

Tori felt her cheeks flush at the intimacy of the moment. “You’re right,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m really glad I get to spend time with you.”

“Me too,” Jude replied, his voice low and sincere. He hesitated for a moment, then added, “About last night… I just wanted to say that I enjoyed the kiss. I didn’t expect it, but it felt right.”

Tori’s heart raced at his words. “I felt the same way,” she admitted, her cheeks heating up as she remembered the warmth of his lips against hers. “It surprised me, but it was nice.”

Jude's expression softened, and he leaned slightly closer, closing the distance between them. “I’d like to explore that more if you’re open to it.”

Tori’s breath caught in her throat. She had been thinking about it since they parted ways the previous evening. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice steady despite her racing heart.

Leaning into her lips, Jude’s eyes met with Tori’s as they slowly moved closer, their breaths mingling in the space between them. The anticipation hung thick in the air, electrifying and intoxicating. When their lips finally connected, it was gentle at first, a soft brush that ignited a fire within both of them. 

Jude's hand travelled to the back of Tori's neck, pulling her in deeper as their kiss intensified. Tori instinctively leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop her. The kiss spoke volumes, conveying unspoken desires and promises that lingered just beneath the surface.

As they pulled away, both breathless, Tori couldn’t help but smile at Jude, her heart fluttering like a butterfly in her chest. She could see the hunger in his eyes mirroring her own, and it made her pulse quicken.

“So…” Tori started, her voice playful, trying to lighten the mood. “Is this part of your plan to keep me entertained while Chef Ruben conjures up magic in the kitchen?”

Jude chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. “Maybe. But honestly, I just wanted a reason to kiss you again,” he admitted, his gaze piercing yet inviting. 

“I think I can get on board with that plan,” Tori replied, her playful demeanour having returned, strengthened by the immediate chemistry they had. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching from the kitchen broke the moment. Chef Ruben emerged, wiping his hands on a towel. “Dinner is almost ready.” He peered at them with an amused smile, as if he knew exactly what moment he had interrupted.

Tori felt her cheeks flush as she and Jude quickly pulled apart, both of them trying to regain their composure. The playful atmosphere shifted slightly, but the warmth of the moment lingered in the air.

“Perfect timing, Chef,” Jude said, a hint of laughter in his voice as he leaned back against the couch, trying to appear casual as Ruben turned and left the room.

Victoria chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement, turning to look at Jude as he stood to his feet holding out his hand for her guiding her into the dining room where Ruben had set two places at the table for them. 

Pulling out Tori’s chair for her, Jude gestured for her to sit down before taking his seat. A knowing smile on his face as he awaited their dinner being served. 

“Is this an everyday thing for you?” Tori asked as she took in the dining room before his eyes landed back on Jude. “Candle-lit dinners and gourmet meals.”

“No, most of the time my mum will cook for me or Ruben will just leave my dinner in the microwave for whenever I get around to eating it,” Jude explained. 

He understood how glamorous his life may have appeared from the outside looking in, and despite all he had, he still maintained as humble a lifestyle as a man in his position would. 

Time flew by as Tori and Jude sat in his dining room, the evening passing as giving way to the nighttime as they spoke about any and everything. 

Ruben had left around two hours prior after cleaning up the mess he made while cooking, before leaving their dessert in the refrigerator for them. 

It wasn't until Jude's phone rang in his pocket that Tori remembered her own, and when she pulled it out she was surprised to see it was nearing the hour of midnight. 

“Wow, time flew by,” Tori said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I didn’t realize it was so late!”

Jude chuckled, a hint of surprise in his voice as he checked his watch. “Yeah, it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re having fun. I guess we got a little carried away with our conversation.”

Tori smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her at the thought of their evening together. “I enjoyed it. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Same here,” Jude replied, leaning back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “I enjoy your company.” 

Tori felt her heart flutter at his words. “Thank you, I've been told the very opposite before.”

Just then, Jude’s phone buzzed again, interrupting the moment. He glanced at the screen and frowned slightly. “It’s my manager. I should probably take this,” he said, standing up and moving a few steps away to answer the call.

Tori watched him, her heart racing slightly as she thought about how different their lives were. Jude was a rising star, and she was just a dancer trying to make a name for herself. She couldn’t help but wonder how or why their lives truly came to align.

As Jude spoke on the phone, Tori took a moment to gather her thoughts before standing to her feet so she could prepare to leave. The evening had been fun, but she didn't want to overstay her welcome. 

Grabbing the plates they ate from, Tori brought them to the kitchen so she could place them into the sink before going in search of her belongings. 

When Jude’s phone conversation came to an end, he returned to the kitchen, a slight frown still lingering on his face. “Sorry about that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Business never sleeps, I guess.”

Tori smiled, trying to ease the tension. “No worries, I was just cleaning up a bit. I didn’t want to leave a mess behind.”

Jude chuckled softly, leaning against the counter. “You didn’t have to do that. But I appreciate it.”

“I just figured it was the least I could do after such an amazing dinner,” Tori replied, feeling a sense of warmth at the compliment. “Seriously, the food was incredible. I‘m lucky to have experienced that. But it's super late and I should probably get going.”

“You don't have to,” Jude said, his tone shifting slightly as he stepped closer to her. “I mean, if you want to stay a bit longer, I’d love you to.”

Tori felt her heart flutter at his invitation. The thought of leaving felt premature, especially after such a lovely evening. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice softening. “But I don’t want to impose on you, I've known you twenty-four hours and you've already dropped me home and given me dinner.”

“You’re not imposing at all,” Jude reassured her, his eyes warm and sincere. “I genuinely want you to stay. Plus, it’s late, and I’d feel better knowing you’re safe here.”

Tori felt a rush of warmth at his words, her heart swelling with affection. “Okay, I’ll stay a little longer,” she said, a smile breaking across her face. 

“Great,” Jude replied, his expression brightening. “How about we watch a movie or something? I have a few good ones lined up.”

“Sounds good,” Tori agreed, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her. She loved the idea of curling up on the couch with him, enjoying the warmth of his presence.

Jude led her back to the living room, where he grabbed the remote and settled onto the couch, gesturing for her to join him. Tori nestled in beside him, feeling the heat radiating from his body as they sank into the cushions. 

As the opening credits rolled, Tori found herself stealing glances at Jude, who was focused on the screen. She couldn’t help but admire the way the soft light illuminated his features, the way his lips curved into a smile at the funny moments in the film. 

Halfway through the movie, Tori felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. She leaned her head against Jude’s shoulder, feeling safe and content. Jude glanced down at her, a soft smile playing on his lips as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Very,” Tori replied, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She felt a sense of peace envelope her, the stresses of the day fading away as she relaxed against him.

As the movie continued, Tori felt Jude’s fingers gently brushing through her hair, a tender gesture that sent shivers down her spine. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and in that moment, the air between them shifted. 

Jude’s eyes darkened with desire, and Tori felt her heart race as he leaned in closer. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Tori breathed, her heart pounding in her chest.

Their lips met softly at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened as the kiss ignited a fire within them both. Tori melted against him, her hands finding their way to his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. 

Jude responded eagerly, his hands roaming down her back, pulling her against him as the kiss grew more passionate. Tori felt a rush of heat flood her body, her senses heightened as they lost themselves in each other.

Pulling Tori into her lap so she straddled him, Jude wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close as their kiss deepened. Tori could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and it sent a thrill through her. She couldn't recall the last time she felt so desired, so wanted, and it both exhilarated and terrified her.

As they kissed, Tori felt the world around them fade away. The flickering light from the television was just a backdrop to the intensity of the moment, and all that mattered was the connection they were sharing. Jude’s hands slid up her back, his fingers going beneath her top as he groaned into her mouth at the realization she wasn't wearing a bra. 

Tori gasped softly at the sensation, her body responding instinctively to his touch. The warmth of his hands against her skin sent shivers down her spine, igniting a spark of desire that coursed through her. She felt emboldened, the initial nerves washing away as the kiss deepened and grew more passionate.

Jude pulled her closer, his hands exploring the contours of her back with a tenderness that made her heart race. Tori’s fingers tangled in his hair, and she felt a rush of exhilaration as they lost themselves in the moment, completely consumed by the chemistry crackling between them.

But as the kiss intensified, a small voice in the back of Tori’s mind reminded her of the speed at which things were moving. She reluctantly pulled back, breathless, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched Jude’s eyes for reassurance. 

“I should go,” she breathed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and desire, unsure of where the night would head if she remained in his presence. 

“Stay,” Jude murmured, a frown on his browline as he looked into Tori’s eyes willing her to heed him. “Please,” he added softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

Leaning down Tori pressed her lips against his once more, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he stood to his feet with her in his arms. 

He moved as of she was weightless as he moved from the living room and upstairs to the upper level of his house. 

Pushing open his bedroom door without parting lips with Tori, Jude used his foot to close it behind himself, locking them away from the rest of their world. 

All rationale had left Tori’s mind and she and Jude indulged in each other, giving in to impulse and desire as they stripped one another until they lay tangled between the sheets. 

Jude feasted on her until she was a trembling mess in the middle of his bed. He used his mouth and tongue to render her speechless—he lost himself in the act, tasting and torturing her with his skilled mouth.

“Jude,” Victoria moaned into his ear, her legs wrapping around his waist as he sank into her inch by delicious inch, his hands splayed either side of her head as their eyes met.

“You're so fucking tight,” Jude groaned in awe of the way she felt around him, the heat and sensation almost overwhelming. Victoria's body responded to him, clenching and releasing like she was designed to fit him perfectly. 

Her back arched as he filled her completely, sending waves of pleasure coursing through them both. “Yes, just like that,” she encouraged her voice a sultry whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.

He took a moment to drink her in— the way her hair fanned out on the pillow, the flush of her cheeks, and the way her lips parted slightly as she struggled to find words between gasps. Every detail contributed to fueling a fire in him, compelling him to go deeper, to claim her in a way that left no doubt of his desire.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathed, starting a slow, deliberate rhythm. Pulling almost all the way out of Tori before easing back in, moving his hand from beside her head to pin her right leg to the bed, his grip firm on the back of her thigh. 

The shift in position conjured a dull ache that felt sinfully good in tandem with the pleasure coursing through her body. His girth and length surpassing any expectation she may have had. 

As he pulled almost entirely out before sinking back in, Victoria let out an unrefined moan, her grip on Jude's shoulders tightening as if she might fall off the bed otherwise. "Oh, fuck, yes...just like that," she whined into his ear, her hips bucking slightly to meet his thrusts, the ache growing with every inch that slid back into her.

Her fingers dug into his hair, not pulling but coaxing him closer, her lips finding his neck in search of contact. "You feel so good," she gasped, her teeth drawing along his skin. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

The pleasure was almost too much, her body trembling with the force of it, but she didn't want it to end, didn't want him to pull back just yet. Tori rolled her hips again, matching his rhythm with a desperate eagerness, urging him deeper, chasing that delicious friction that was fast turning into an inexorable need.

Jude snarled lustfully as he watched his length slip from her, her arousal coating his cock in a glistening sheen. 

Turning Tori over onto her stomach in one swift motion, he reached for a pillow at the head of his bed forcing it beneath her to create a deep, perfect arch in her spine that made her hips raise. 

Jude couldn't help himself, taking hold of his cock he used the tip to circle her slick entrance. 

“Shit,” Victoria cried out, her whole body tingling with suspense as Jude's thick cockhead circled her entrance, teasing her. She wiggled her hips instinctively, trying to urge him inside.

Jude wasted no more time, pressing the head of his cock against her pussy, pushing just enough to feel that gentle resistance, before easing in ballsdeep.

Victoria let out a throaty moan as Jude thrust into her with a force that made the bed tremor beneath the weight of bodies. She arched her back, pushing her hips against him as he began to move, his pace relentless and demanding.

Each deep, powerful stroke of his cock hit a spot inside her that made her eyelids roll shut. Tori's mind emptied of all thought, reduced to only sensations—the feeling of Jude's thick length thrusting into her, the sound of their harsh breaths and slick skin colliding, the way his hands gripped her hips and held her in place.

She wrapped her arms around the pillow, using it to steady herself as Jude fucked her with an intensity that left her breathless and overwhelmed. 

His thrusts picked up speed, becoming almost brutal in their execution, and Victoria met each one with an answering roll of her hips, lost to the pleasure that threatened to consume her.

When she felt Jude’s fingers come to grip the hair at the back of her head, all bets were off. Tori let out a cry of pleasure as her eyes rolled shut, the arch in her back deepening as her thighs began to tremble. 

Panting heavily, Jude gripped the back of Tori's head, tilting it to the side as he continued his merciless exploration of her depths. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, the force of his thrusts hitting the spongy flesh of her cervix and sending shivers of pure bliss coursing through her. Her moans of ecstasy echoed through the room, fueling his own growing need.

As Jude's grip tightened, Tori's entire body went stiff, her cries becoming choked whimpers of pleasure. She'd never experienced anything like this before, Jude's size and strength pushing her to the very edge of what she could take.

“Cum for me, Tori,” Jude groaned, his pace slowing as he watched himself disappear inside of her, completely under her spell. 

"Tori," he groaned into her ear, his voice guttural and primal. The sound of his arousal hung heavily in the air as he pounded into her, her body moving in rhythmic time with his.

Victoria's mind shattered as Jude continued to take her, his relentless thrusts driving her to the brink. She felt so full, so completely filled and claimed by him.

"Yes, yes, y-yes..." she chanted brokenly, her words dissolving into helpless cries of ecstasy.

Jude's fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, gripping her as he laid into her, each stroke easing her closer to the edge. He could feel her walls spasming around him, her pleasure knotting tighter and tighter until it threatened to come undone.

She was going to come undone beneath him, and Jude was determined to be the one to send her over. He wanted to hold her in his arms as she committed herself to the pinnacle of pleasure. 

Despite the silent cry that fell from her mouth, Jude felt it as she came on him. Her arousal dripped down the innards of her thighs as she gripped the pillow beneath the sated body. 

Pulling out of Tori, Jude held his length in his hand as he eyed her sweaty body, between her legs flushed and slightly swollen. He watched as she turned over onto her back, a playful glint in her eyes. Victoria's lips curved into a sultry smile as she beckoned him closer with a gesture of her finger.

“Not yet,” Tori purred, her voice laced with mischief. She pushed herself up onto her knees, an inviting shine in her gaze as her tongue swiped across her lips. Jude's breath hitched in his throat, anticipation pooling in his stomach as he watched her.

With an intentional slowness to her movements, Tori leaned forward, her shiny raven hair cascading over her shoulders in a soft curtain that framed her face. She took her time, savouring the moment as she moved closer to his cock, barely an inch away. Her breath washed over him, warm and tantalizing, and she couldn't help but smirk at the way he tensed up.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. She opened her mouth wide, taking him in slowly, her tongue swirling around the tip before she sank deeper, relishing the sensation of him filling her mouth.

“Fuck, Tori,” he groaned, his hands instinctively tangling in her hair as she began to bob her head up and down, her mouth perfect seal as she showcased her talent. Her lips and chin glistened with drool, slicking his shaft as she pulled back, only to thrust forward again, taking him as deep as she could manage.

Tori could feel him throbbing against her tongue, the heat of him igniting a fire inside her. She revelled in the taste of him, the way he filled her mouth, an offering of pleasure she was more than happy to accept. Each thrust of her mouth was accompanied by soft, breathy moans that vibrated against his length, driving him wild.

Jude's fingers gripped her hair tightly, guiding her rhythm as he watched the bliss dance across her face. “Just like that, Tori,” he encouraged, his voice thick and deep with arousal. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

She picked up the pace, swirling her tongue around his shaft as she took him deeper, pressing down to the base. The sound of her wetness filled the air, a stimulating melody that only stoked the flames of his desire. Victoria loved watching Jude lose himself in the moment, the way his brow furrowed in pleasure and his jaw slackened, his breath coming in quick, erratic gasps.

She could feel his tension riding, his breaths growing more shallow as she wrapped her lips tighter around him, sucking hard while pumping the rest of him with her small, dexterous hands. His hand found her cheek, urging her to take him even deeper.

“Breathe through it, Tori,” he murmured, his voice throaty. “Give me your fucking throat.”

Just as he was about to lose his grip on control, she pulled back, her mouth popping off with a soft, erotic sound. Tori looked up at him with lust-filled eyes and licked her lips in a slow, deliberate motion.

Without a word, she parted her lips and tilted her head back offering herself to him. 

Jude's heart raced at the sight of her, so willingly surrendering to him, and he couldn't resist the urge to claim her once more. He moved closer, his length glistening as he approached her inviting mouth. The hunger in his gaze mirrored her desire, pooling in the air between them.

“God, Tori,” he growled, his voice low and rough. He took a step closer and positioned himself at her lips. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

With a firm yet gentle grip on her hair, he leaned forward, his cock pressing against her mouth. Without hesitating, she opened wider, welcoming him back inside. Feeling him slide into her mouth felt addictive, and she immediately went to work, sucking him in deep while her tongue expertly traced every ridge and vein.

“Fuck,” he breathed, the sensation exhilarating. “You drive me crazy.”

She made soft, sensual sounds, each one vibrating around him, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through his body. Jude began to rock his hips slowly, thrusting in rhythm with her perfect mouth, going deeper with each deliberate motion. The sight of her swallowing him, her eyes shining with intensity, only heightened his arousal.

“Just like that,” he groaned, losing himself in the rhythm of her mouth as she layered her movements with a tantalizing mix of speed and pressure. 

Victoria let him take control, relishing in the way he filled her mouth, the heat and weight of him overwhelming her senses. She could feel him reaching the precipice, his every breath quickening, the muscles in his thighs tightening.

As the tension mounted, she could sense his rising need. Just when he thought he would lose it, she pulled back again, teasingly bringing her tongue over the sensitive tip before letting him slip from her lips entirely. 

“Please, Jude,” she pleaded, her breath coming in bursts. “I want you to cum on my face.”

Jude's eyes darkened with desire, the raw urgency in her voice igniting something primal within him. “Come here,” he growled, his fingers curling into her hair, guiding her back down on him.

With a decisive thrust, Jude eased into her mouth once more, and Tori’s eyes widened in delight as he filled her instantly. She loved the way he took charge, how he lost himself in the pleasure. With each deep stroke, he seemed to pull her deeper into his world, a place where only he and she existed.

The heat of him was intoxicating, and her own desire soaring in response, each of his thrusts awakening a raw need inside her. She met him with soft, enthusiastic sounds, her moans sending vibrations through his hard cock, heightening the intoxicating pull between them. Jude looked down at her, his chest rising and falling with each heated breath, the way her face glistened with saliva driving him wild.

“Just like that, baby,” he growled, his control wavering. He moved faster now, a rhythm between domination and desire with every thrust. He watched as his cock disappeared past her luscious lips, the sight pure ecstasy. “You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

Victoria's desire erupted higher at his words. She pushed herself to take him even deeper, her throat working to accommodate him as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure of the moment. Each time he hit the back of her throat, she felt herself flutter with excitement, her body yearning for more. 

Feeling a familiar tightness in his core, Jude knew he wouldn’t last long. Her compliance was like a drug, and the sight of her completely lost in the act—her eyes glazed over with pleasure—drove him wild. He groaned, his breaths rough and uneven, “I’m going to cum, Tori...”

“Please,” she urged with a sultry whisper around his pulsating length, her voice thick with desire. “I want it.”

That single command sent Jude spiralling over the edge. He gritted his teeth as he thrust one last time, burying himself deep within her warm mouth, his body quaking with release. “Tori!” he roared, surrendering to the pleasure that consumed him, his thick seed spilling as he held himself against the back of her throat. 

Victoria welcomed the warmth, her eyes shimmering with delight as she felt the salty essence hit her tongue, a warm splash of gratification that sent shivers through her body. She let out a soft, hungry moan as she savoured every drop, the taste of him only intensifying her desire. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Jude panted, watching the way she licked her lips, ensuring she hadn’t wasted a single drop. The sight of her basking in his essence only fueled his need for her more, driving him wild. 

Tori leaned back, her lips still glistening, an alluring invitation in her eyes. “I’m not,” she smiled shyly. 

Taking her hand into his, Jude pulled her body against his once more, the warmth between them igniting again. "I think you are," he murmured, his voice a sultry growl that sent currents of anticipation racing through her.

He manoeuvred them both back onto the bed, their bodies colliding with a thud, as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. 

“When are you heading back to the States for the holidays?” Jude asked, his fingers softly tracing the skin of her back. 

“I’m not,” Tori revealed, her heart dropping as she thought about her family back home, or rather the current chasm between her and them. 

“What?!” Jude asked as if he'd just been told she wasn't human. 

“I’m staying in Madrid, I’m contemplating a last-minute New Year's trip with a few of the girls I dance with,” Tori explained, ignoring the dull ache in her chest as she offered him a soft reassuring smile. 

“What about you?” she asked intent on shifting the attention away from her. 

“I have my last football match of the year and then I’m heading back home to England to be with my family.” Jude revealed feeling bad about his plans to enjoy some time off with his family. 

However, an intriguing notion, though slightly unconventional, suddenly blossomed in his mind.

“After Christmas, I'm heading to Dubai with a few of my teammates for an awards ceremony, but I plan on celebrating New Year's there too,” Jude explained. 

“If you’d like, I’d be happy for you to join me.” he continued, feeling rather nervous as he proposed the idea to her. 

Victoria's heart raced at his offer, the thought of joining him igniting a spark of excitement within her. “Are you being serious?” she asked cautiously. 

“Why wouldn't I be serious?” Jude asked with a pout. 

“I know we are just getting to know one another and I’m already in your bed, but why?” Tori asked, her brow furrowing slightly. She wanted to be sure about his intentions but couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that coursed through her at the prospect of spending more time with him.

“Because,” he began, searching her gaze for the right words, “I want to continue to get to know you, whether it be in Dubai or Madrid.”

Tori had already let it slip that she was thinking about travelling for the new year, but the thought of going to Dubai with Jude was incredibly enticing. The atmosphere of a new city, especially one known for its opulence and vibrant nightlife, combined with the thrill of exploring more of their connection sent a rush of adrenaline through her.

“I’m intrigued,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But what's the catch? This feels… too good to be true.”

Jude smiled, a mixture of confidence and assurity in his demeanour. “No catch. If at any point you want to leave you can, I don't expect anything from you, but I would like for you to join me.”

Tori hadn’t known Jude for any stretch of time, but from their first encounter, she’d found herself drawn to him. “If I say yes, you have to promise me I won't end up regretting it,” she said, her eyes searching his for sincerity. 

Jude leaned closer, brushing his lips softly against hers. “I promise to make it a trip you won’t forget,”

[mllekurtz]

My 2024 in Writing

I saw @rowanisawriter do this and I thought I would give it a shot too!

2024 was not an easy year for me. It started out with a wave of creative energy, allowing me to get the bulk of the Shadowgast Witcher AU written down, then I got blocked in April/May, picked myself out of the gutter in June (and ended up discarding most of what I wrote then lol), wrote a bunch of shadowgast stuff I haven't posted yet in July and August, and then had some very, very bad mental health for a while, and spent basically the entirety of October napping on the couch with my cat and dog. Then Veilguard came out! I was so inspired by it, I've been happily writing Veilguard fic since mid-November.

Words written: 201k

Words posted: 46k

Days written: 229/366

Fandoms: Critical Role (184k words) and Dragon Age (17k)

Fics posted: Critical Role strange magic (commuter au) the end of all our exploring (pre-c3 fic) losing hand chapter 5 (part of my birds of prey series) Fox's Claw prologue (first bit of the Witcher AU sequel)

Dragon Age the art of mending broken things (Lucanis/Neve getting together) we all fall in love sometimes (act 2 Lucanis/Neve) the toughest part of the body (post-canon Rook/Neve) to fade or at least to kneel (act 2 Lucanis/Neve)

What I learned: that forcing myself to write when I feel down sucks, it just does, and I won't to do it anymore. I actually expected my annual word count to be much lower because of the Bad Mental Health months, but what I wrote when I was feeling good more than compensated for that.

I also noticed a switch from writing fics about characters getting together to established relationships. Falling in love has always been easy to write for me, but clearly my focus shifted to staying in love, which is just as interesting.

What I want to write next year: I have a long, long list of Veilguard fic ideas that I'll try to get through, most of them Lucanis/Neve, some of them featuring Aglais, my Rook. I will probably bury myself even deeper in rarepair hell because I've been having thoughts about some niche pairings that I'll turn into something at some point. I will definitely come back to shadowgast and work on my long wips, some of which could go to kindergarten by now.

Last thoughts: I write for myself, but I share for others. I am so grateful to anyone who's commented, kudosed, liked, or otherwise talked about my fics with me: most of my motivation to keep sharing my writing comes from you. I'm also happy for the new friends I've made, and for the old ones that stuck with me. ♥

[petalkitshadow]

Talking about: Darkstar!

So, the most recent chapter revealed some important info about Darkstar's backstory, info that I've been sitting on for a while and have many thoughts about. Now that the chapter's been out for a few days I want to discuss it a bit, my thought process on the matter and such! warning: it's long, so i put it under a cut

TW FOR: non-graphic discussions of (fictional) sexual assault and recovery from it

(and of course, spoilers for the new chapter)

PkS has a few "key scenes" that were the first things I came up with when conceptualizing the story, and imagining how I would present it. One of these was, of course, the battle with mapleshade, but a second one that's now escaped from containment is this last chapter, Petalpaw discovering that Darkstar's son, Perchshine, was born from sexual assault. I imagine some may have already picked up on it, from how Darkstar behaved, and her specific discomfort with Reedshine's kitting. I was nervous about including it, for sure. It's a very heavy topic, and I want to do it justice, and offer Darkstar the nuance and humanity she deserves as a victim.

So why include it? it's a bit of a roundabout tale... when doing my early drafts, I was amidst a listen of Yellowfang's Secret audiobook. Lizardstripe's story really stuck out to me. Warrior cats has, a few times, made it so a she-cat gets pregnant by surprise. Occasionally, the she-cat might be dismayed about it. but in time, they all come to love being a mother. Lizardstripe doesn't follow that. She's the one cat in warriors who has kits and doesn't want them. Now, since it's a kid's book series, i don't think children reading it would question her situation much, and i think the authors were likely betting on this being the case. But reading it as an adult... it really gives some unsettling implications.

Lizardstripe's situation isn't delved into very deeply. It's mostly set dressing for how Brokenstar became so evil. but it really stuck with me, as a reader. Warriors is a world with no birth control. The idea that a cat could be stuck with a pregnancy against their will was just... so horrifying to me. legitimately something I've had nightmares about! though I understand it's a children's book series so the topic of pregnancy and how one gets pregnant is very much glossed over, i still felt unsettled, and a bit disappointed with how Lizardstripe was portrayed. She was a woman who didn't want kids, so obviously she's physically abusive, evil, ambitious, reprehensible, one of the worst people in the series. But all i could think was... Why did no one help her? There's a scene where she seems like she's making a cry for help to Hollyflower, and is ignored, her fears glossed over, and she is told "suck it up, you'll learn to love being a mother". and how did she even get into that situation? was she, too, a victim of assault? I doubt that was the author's intention, nor do I consider that my headcanon/interpretation for her, but is still a way you could interpret her. which just sat with me, and really made me feel icky. Petalkit's shadow (and all my warriors headcanons, writings, etc) is a lot about changing things I find unsatisfactory or frustrating about the books. so, I wanted to try and create some kind of response to Lizardstripe, while also writing through my own emotions and fears, to create a story i found compelling.

Thus, my idea for Darkstar was created. I wanted to approach this concept I saw in Lizardstripe, but from a more sympathetic angle. What would happen, how would a cat in this society feel, if they were made to go through something so horrible? Darkstar has been put in an awful situation... she really has no good choices. Her belief is that any kit in RiverClan is entitled to the safety and community they have to offer - we saw that when she allowed Petalkit to stay. Making an exception for her son, even if she was forced to bear him, would go against her principles. And sending him away, where would he go? To another clan? where he may have to unknowingly fight against his mother? To a stranger outside the clans, where Darkstar has no idea if he'll be safe? and Perchshine himself, is in a horrible position, too. Obviously, he would have questions about why his mother can't look at him, why she ignores him, why she refuses to spend time with him. But what is Darkstar to say? what is any cat to say? you can't really explain it to a child. So Perchshine had to live a life feeling unwanted, seeking attention from anybody who would give it to him, leading him to be so negatively influenced by Appledusk. meanwhile, Darkstar feels eating, aching guilt over something that isn't her fault.

She has every right to not want to be Perchshine's mother. she didn't want him. she was assaulted. he shouldn't be her responsibility. But again, she really has no good choices. That summarizes her character, i think. she is never given an easy solution. every choice she makes will always hurt somebody. she usually picks the option that will hurt herself. but When Appledusk's affair is revealed, she sends Mapleshade away. she's just a few months off an extremely traumatic experience. she confesses herself, she almost felt jealousy, that starclan would take mapleshade's kits instead of hers, when Mapleshade loved her own so fiercely. and she could see the tension between maple, reed, and apple. she knew if maple stayed, there would be more problems. problems she simply didn't have the emotional bandwith for. she put perchkit first by having him stay in the clan, even though he would be a reminder of what happened to her. she didn't step down or run away from her leadership. she continued supporting her clan and putting the others first. so I think, in that moment, she decided for once to put herself first. she sent mapleshade away. and she paid for it dearly, when she loses reedshine, her first apprentice, and one of her closest friends.

Darkstar's story up until now has been very tragic. But I don't want that to be all there is to her. The first side of this concept, of course, is "wow, this is really fucked up and depressing". but I want there to be another side to it. Darkstar endured this terrible thing, and has a lot of hurt inside of her. But in the end, she's still alive. She can heal, and she can move on. no matter what her life is still worth living, and she has cats who care about her and want to help her. I think this duality always makes a really compelling character for me. It's motivating, for me, to imagine that no matter how much you have suffered, no matter how terrible things seem, you can always keep going. (It's a sentiment I've had to remind myself many times in my life - sure, maybe giving up is easier. but your life is worth living, even when it's difficult) Alongside the cautionary tale about anger destroying you, this would probably be the other thesis of Petalkit's Shadow. Keep going, you will make it out alive. and one day, it won't hurt so much anymore. so as the story has reached this tipping point, I'm excited to move forward, and start showing this other side of Darkstar, where her recovery continues, and she is able to re-embrace the things and the people she loves!

Anyways, I've just had a lot of thoughts in my head, and wanted to finally be able to share them since the chapter got published. Thanks so much for reading everyone, i really appreciate it! <3

[risingchaos]

OH DEAR GOD THAT’S A CHILD

—

Rating: Teen & Up Archive

Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)

Characters: Jim Gordon (DCU), Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Dick Grayson is Robin, Jim Gordon is So Done, Protective Jim Gordon (DCU), Dick Grayson Being a Little Shit, But also, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Swearing, POV Jim Gordon (DCU), POV Third Person Limited

Language: English

Words: 1,001

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Batman showing up randomly with a child is going to make Jim go grey earlier than any of these villains will.

AKA Jim Gordon’s first meeting with Robin.

—

The fic on AO3 because for some reason it won’t link properly

—

“Goddamn Batman and his stupid fucking lantern like it’s the 1940’s.” Jim grumbled as he pressed the on switch, wrapping his coat around him tighter after pulling a cigarette from his carton and a lighter from his pocket. Barbara was really pushing for him to quit it, and honestly he should unless he wants to die of a heart attack before fifty, but the job was stressful and a cigarette gave him some much needed relief. Sue him. There’s worse vices, especially in this town.

The wind this high up cut straight to the bone, and he could already feel the chill that meant rain. If he was lucky, the vigilante would show up before the first drops. If he was unlucky, it wouldn’t rain at all, and the chill just meant a fog from the docks was rolling in. Fog always made shit complicated. More car crashes, roads get slick, people did stupid crimes with a nature made cover, and you had to deal with it all not being able to see two feet in front of your nose. And it was hell with his glasses.

He lit the cigarette and sighed out the smoke, resigning to wait anywhere between ten seconds and fifteen minutes until the oversized bat got his ass up here. Seriously, a signal? This was the modern century, burner phones exist. Radios. Walkie-talkies. Hell, with all the tech Batman had, he could probably make some wildly complicated one way transmission system. He didn’t need to put a neon sign up to the city to make sure they understood the GPD was corrupt and incompetent. He preferred if they figured that out themselves, thank you very much.

As he was musing on the impracticalities of the light (seriously, it could be tampered with so easily and there’s no backup Mr. Plans for Everything), that’s when he heard that awful gruff voice behind him.

“Captain.”

Jim definitely did not jump but he did sigh, turning around and ready to give him some crap about not being all creepy, when every single thing he had thought of in the last six minutes of waiting died in his throat as he recognized there was another presence.

A smaller presence.

A much, much smaller presence.

A child.

Batman had a goddamn child with him.

Without long sleeves, and he had on pixie boots, and what looked an awful lot like.. shorts?

“Batman.” Jim could barely conceal the pure bafflement and small rage boiling inside. “Who is that?”

Batman just stared for a moment before gesturing slightly to the boy. “This is Robin. My partner.”

Robin grinned, and waved, and stood up from his crouched position on the fucking edge of the rooftop. Every single paternal bone in Jim’s body screamed at him to pull him away from there, how was Batman okay with that??

“Robin.” He repeated back, and the boy nodded happily. “Pants. Why don’t- why are you wearing shorts? It’s 40 degrees out.”

Well, it was quickly indicated that was the wrong thing to say with the way Robin instantly frowned, his little brows furrowing into what Jim would call a pout. Jesus Christ.

“I’m wearing tights, and it’s not shorts, it’s a leotard! And why does everyone want me to wear pants? They are no fun, and they get in the way of everything! Have you ever tried to do a round off in pants, sir? There’s a reason acrobats don’t wear jeans!” And, as if to prove his point, Robin dove forward onto the rooftop, rolled, and sprung up in a handstand that he held with shocking stability. “See?”

Jim’s eyes flicked up to Batman, who, for just a moment, looked incredibly resigned by the show of acrobatics as Robin came out of the handstand and followed it up with a standing flip (where the hell did Batman find this boy?) before returning to Batman’s side. A blink and you’ll miss it moment before his normal, impassive expression returned.

“Robin.” There was a hint of something Jim couldn’t place in the tone, but instead of cowering like most people, Robin simply beamed again.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Captain. I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things, all good things!” He held up his hands placatingly before clasping them and rocking on his heels. “Now, what’s the sitch? We haven’t got all night, you know.” He could tell Robin winked under that godforsaken domino mask, and by George, was that an honest to God sigh from Batman?

Instead of debating the ethics of Robin running around with, apparently, tights and a leotard any longer, Jim pushed up his glasses with his free hand, rubbed at his eyes for a moment with his fingers, and dropped his shoulders with a heavy breath.

“So, we’ve heard rumblings of Two-Face planning an acid attack..”

________

After three minutes of explaining all he had heard, and letting his poor cigarette go out, he wasn’t going to smoke around what was very clearly a young child, Batman and Robin turned to leave, but Jim wasn’t quite done.

“Batman.” That got the figure to pause. “A word.”

Probably against every bone in the weirdo’s body, Batman turned, and walked closer to Jim. He didn’t say anything, just stared, but he wasn’t going to lose nerve now.

“A single fucking thing happens to that boy, Batman,” his voice was lower, downright angry, “and I’ll show you how good and goddamn ruthless a detective I can be. Got it?”

Batman, of course, didn’t back down, but he did nod once, slow and purposeful. “Captain.”

Then, with a swish of his ridiculous cape, Batman went off the side of the building to follow Robin to wherever the hell they were off to.

Jim let out a long half sigh, half groan, and went to relight his cigarette when a single raindrop hit the end, dampening the paper.

That was enough to get him to go inside and deal with all of this another day.

[campbyler]

why choose to do two parts of a chapter instead of just two separate ones? like doing 10.1 and 10.2 instead of just having 10.2 be chapter 11 instead (sorry if that makes no sense)

i think what anon meant was why didnt you make 10.2 a separate chapter thematically or literature-ally (? lol) instead of just physically? so like... 9.1 could have been called 'are we going somewhere?' and finished with that gorge cliffhanger of mike saying he's gonna teach will to drive. and then chapter 9 part 2 could actually have been chapter 10 both physically and from a literary point of view - if this was a published book, it would have been the actual next chapter. so 9.2 would instead become Chapter 10: I've Got You Baby (or some other title based on lyrics etc)

basically, once you realised the word count was taking you too far, they're wondering why you didn't split the events of the fic into more chapters than you originally have planned. perhaps is there a reason you are attached to a certain amount of chapters? otherwise, i think it would have still made sense for the drive date chapter and the bonfire night chapter to be split into two chaps each - many pro writers split chapters this way even when scenes in a single event are occurring.

of course its the writers' discretion to split chapters where they feel it fits, but i agree with anon that the ending of each half chapter makes a lot of sense as the ending of an actual chapter thematically!

i hope this makes sense haha

hello!! yes what you’re saying makes sense, and we appreciate the perspective!!

i think we did it the way we did for two main reasons — one, this is not a published book, so i do feel like it’s a little bit different since we have the liberty of doing whatever we want rather than being bound to any traditional rules. the second is that the chapters alternate povs, and it was important for all of 9 to be in will’s pov and all of 10 to be in mike’s pov because they’re the realization chapters.

to that point, i don’t agree with the notion that the ending of each half chapter is what makes sense as the thematic ending of the chapter. the themes of chapters 9 and 10 are Realizations. the point of ch09 is literally to get will to his realization — are we going somewhere? is a double meaning because they’re physically going somewhere and emotionally going somewhere. so while the mustang was a big focus in ch09, it was used as a vehicle (teehee) to give will the last push he needed to admit to himself how he feels. mike’s vulnerability in part i resolved a lot of will’s longstanding issues with mike, and the driving lesson’s purpose was to show how much they trust each other: mike trusts will with his car, and will trusts mike to be there for him, and mike being there for him is Truly the One Thing that will wasn’t sure about until ch09. all of these things needed to happen in the same chapter to contextualize that realization!

for 10, the focus is still on realizations — it’s also mike actually admitting to himself that he likes will, yes, but it’s also very much about that realization at the end that will needs to be the one to vocalize his feelings! whereas 9 spends the whole chapter justifying actions to get to the feelings realization, 10 starts with it and then spends the entire chapter trying to justify feelings he is already aware of. it was still important for these to be in the same chapter because it’s all completely connected!!

that said, because word count was really the only obstacle we had, the split chapters are two halves of a whole rather than being two distinct chapters. as we’ve said, this decision was done to benefit all of us — me and suni for writing purposes and being able to get chapters out sooner/avoid as much burn out as possible, and readers for not reading 50-60k chapters in one sitting. we already have a lot of talk about how long the chapters are, and we are both aware that we could probably cut certain scenes or events out, but we also are very adamant about maintaining a pace that feels realistic and makes sense, which usually leads to those higher word counts 😙 if we were to ever convert this into a published book (which we have no plans to), there would be a loooot to cut and we recognize that!! so shout out to the local ao3 for enabling our specific breed of insanity 🤸

[roomwithanopenfire]

2024 Writing Round Up

Happy last day of 2024!! I’ve been loving seeing everyone’s writing and art and doll round ups making their way around, but I waited until the very last second because I posted chapters of fic today ahaha

Thanks for tagging me: @run-for-chamo-miles @drowninginships, @monbons @emeryhall @confused-bi-queer

@rimeswithpurple @nausikaaa @prettygoododds @artsyunderstudy @noblecorgi

@alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife and @best--dress

Rest of the post is under the cut because it is so long. 

FIC’S I’VE POSTED

First, I’ve posted 28 fics this year! 24 for them for Carry On, and 4 of them for Stranger Things. (One of the Stranger Things ones was technically posted last year, but I posted the majority of it this year, so I’m counting it for 2024.) 21 of these fics were for the Carry On Countdown. 2 of those fics are long completed multichapter projects, and 1 is a long uncompleted multichapter project.

According to AO3, I’ve posted 219,532 words this year, but we can subtract about 14.8k from that because AO3 counts work totals based on date updated and I posted the first 2 chapters of No Sweeter Drug in 2023 (so it’s actually 204,704) . This brings my total words on ao3 up to 288,701, so you can see how I really went crazy this year.

No Sweeter Drug (than just giving you my love) - 60k, Stranger Things, Nancy/Robin. Nancy and Robin had a whirlwind summer romance before their sophomore year, but Nancy left her behind, because Nancy Wheeler doesn’t date girls. But after the Upside Down, Nancy finds herself questioning who she even is. And she has to come to terms with her feelings for one Robin Buckley. This is the first stranger things fic I ever posted and I loved writing it. Seriously, I had so much fun with this fic. I’m pretty sure some of my best prose is in this one.

Proof of Life - 80k, Carry On, Simon/Baz. Vampires attacked Watford and Baz was Turned, but this time Natasha Pitch lived. What would Baz’s life be like growing up with his mother? How would Natasha feel about her son’s… condition? And what happens when you throw the Mage’s Heir into the mix? Omggg I had the best time with this fic. I’d been working on this for so long, it was absolutely insane to finally start posting it in March of this year. Thanks to @demadogs for betaing this and hyping me up so much, this fic wouldn’t be half as good without her. Also I got to join the fandom more when I started posting this fic, and I loved meeting all of you so much <3

Just Come Along - 8k, Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie. Steve’s estranged grandfather dies, and he’s the only one in his family who cares enough to make the trip. Eddie, despite barely being friends with Steve, agrees to come with. Along the way, secrets are shared, memories are made, and Eddie and Steve become closer than ever before… I wrote this for the Steddie Summer Exchange and it was my first time doing a fandom event! I had so much fun!!

The Way We Are - WIP, 11k, Carry On, Simon/Baz. Baz and Simon meet in a coffee shop not knowing that one of them is a vampire and the other a vampire hunter. After a tense encounter, both of them are left with questions about who they are and their morality. And as if that’s not enough, neither of them can stop thinking about the other… My COBB fic with @alexalexinii!! This is the only WIP I have to carry over into the new year, and I’m hoping to finish it up soon. I’m literally obsessed with the themes I have in this fic and I want to get them right.

i want an icee and a nice girl to date - 5k, Stranger Things, Robin/Nancy. Nancy doesn't know why Robin in her 8am class gets on her nerves. Maybe it's because she talks too much for so early in the morning. Maybe it's because she didn't seem appreciative of Nancy sharing her textbook with her. Or maybe there's no good reason at all. Eddie thinks Nancy's only two options are to either become enemies with Robin or fall in love with her. Nancy thinks Eddie's full of shit. But when she ends up in a dark movie theater with Robin, Nancy starts to see her in a new way… My fic for the Stranger Things Sapphic Big Bang with @ddoonnccnn !! I loved this little college AU and the art for it is ADORABLE (seriously, click on the fic just to look at the art, trust)

we can go forever - 3k, Stranger Things, Robin/Nancy. “I came from the ocean,” she said, like she was sharing a great secret. “That’s where I live.” 12-year-old Nancy does not believe her. There's no way that this girl is actually some sort of creature... right? Gift fic for @sweetronancer !! Percy ily and I wish you the bestest new year ever <333

What to Bring to An Abandoned Planet - 12k, Carry On, Multi (Simon/Baz, Penny/Shep and like a lot of friendships) Agatha, Baz, and Trixie are a small yet mighty group of space pirates who take down a transporter ship that holds Penelope, Shepard, and Simon on their way to relocating to a new planet. But once Agatha’s mighty ship—the SC Comet—falls way to space debris, the six of them have to learn to work together to survive on an uninhabited planet. I wrote this for @agni-ashes for the Secret Snowflake Exchange and I had wayyyy too much fun with this AU.

And then I wrote all 30 prompts for the Carry On Countdown!! This ended up being 21 fics, but here are a few of my favorites.

Agatha Wellbelove and the Six Sigils - 10k, Agatha gen fic. When Agatha ends up in a study in the White Chapel, she doesn’t think it’s going to change her life forever. When she finds a bag of coins with magickal sigils on them, she certainly doesn’t think it’s going to mean anything important to her. But when she starts having visions of the future… Well, she’s got to do something about it. I love Agatha actually. I find her character so fascinating. I had so much fun exploring her here, and I hope to write more about her in the future!

Some Bright Morning - 3k, Lucy & Simon. Lucy’s baby is the Chosen One. What does that mean? Why is he taking Lucy’s magic? What will Davy do to a child like that? Not feeling safe and not knowing what to do, Lucy turns to an old friend. I loved writing this fic so much!

i wanna go outside but i’m terrified it might be cold or too hot or too radioactive - 1.6k, Simon/Baz. Simon and Baz are the only ones left at Watford during Christmas break. Therefore, when the nuclear apocalypse hits, they are trapped in a bunker with only each other as company. Will they become friends or kill each other? Only time will tell… This was SO much fun to write. I think I had the most fun with this one out of all the Countdown fics.

I’m not going to link anymore, but I also wrote a GBBO au, a Penny turns into a vampire fic, a Mordelia POV fic that I actually LOVE, a short and sad Fiona/Ebb fic, a couple Fiona & small Baz fics, a 2nd person POV humdrum fic, and several other ones that I’m really proud off. I can’t believe I was able to finish the entire countdown, I’m so proud of myself!!

WORDS I’VE WRITTEN

I’ve also kept track of how many words I wrote monthly this year! I only started using a spreadsheet to keep track in mid-March, so the early months are retroactive and are probably underestimated compared to the middle ones. I also didn’t keep as good track each day in Sept-Dec, but I still feel that’s fairly accurate overall, I just don’t know my daily totals.  So check out my chart and graph!!

That’s a total of 186,286 words!!

I like looking at this because I can see where my motivation dropped off. When school started in September there was a huge dip, but I picked back up in November with the countdown fics! April looks really low, but it was a month of editing so I still did lots! Also, I posted more words than I wrote, which seems really silly, but I wrote all of No Sweeter Drug in 2023 same with most of Proof of Life

And now, because this post isn’t long enough already…

FUN FACTS

Of the days I kept track of my daily word totals (April-August), the day I wrote the most words was August 13th. I wrote 5,856 words of a still unposted Farcille smut fic. It’s extremely nsfw and I wrote almost all of these words in the backseat of a car (my parents were in the front) after driving back home from my out-of-state doctor’s appointments. I cooked up the whole idea while in an MRI machine lolll. (I will post it one day but it turns out editing smut is a lot less fun than writing smut)

Throughout the course of this year, my favorite writing font switched from Georgia to Lora. I love Lora so much now, she’s so cunty.

When I’m writing, chances are I’m listening to one of 3 things. This absolutely perfect playlist on youtube—I do my best writing with this but sometimes I’m not in the mood; one of two albums by David Bowie (1 or 2); or my vocaloid playlist (which i’m still curating, one day when it’s perfect and like 10 hours long i’ll share it)

Google docs new tab system is a lifesaver!! I could fit all of my COC fics on the same google doc, I love it. You don’t even want to know how many different documents I’d have for one fic before this system was introduced.

(Kind of unrelated, but I also started journaling late 2024 and now I can’t stop. Does this make me cooler? Perhaps not, but offloading my thoughts onto a page is very useful. Also I put quotes and doodles in there.)

LOOKING AHEAD TO 2025

I’ll be bringing one WIP fic from this year into 2025—The Way We Are. I honestly thought I would have finished it by now, but I lost my writing motivation and then gained it only for COC, but I’m hoping to finish writing the last two chapters soon. (I’ve told myself I can’t post anymore  of it until I finish writing it, which maybe wasn’t a good idea but oh well). I genuinely love this fic and the themes I explore in it, so I hope to finish and post more soon!

My main goal for 2025 is to just keep writing. I try to have a daily goal of at least 200 words a day, and the months where I stuck to that goal are some of the ones where I wrote the most. It takes me about 200 words to get into the flow and want to keep writing, so it ends up really effective. I have a newer, sexier, writing tracker spreadsheet for 2025 and I feel very inspired to fill it up. 

If you read this whole thing, I love you! This was a yap yet so it ended up long, so I'm hiding the sappiness down here. I've had SO much fun joining the fandom this year. I love and appreciate all of you, from the first time I was tagged in a wipsday on here, to everyone who's commented on my fics. The Carry On fandom truly is the bestest ever, you guys are so encouraging and make me want to keep writing forever and ever <3

I’m pretty sure most people who’ve wanted to have done this already, but be tagged anyways (sorry if I missed you if you've already done this):

@aristocratic-otter @arthurkko @beastmonstertitan @blackberrysummerblog @bookishbroadwayandblind

@bookish-bogwitch @brendughh @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cccloudsss (tyyyy for being such a good friend and the fastest beta everrrr) @cutestkilla

@facewithoutheart @fiend-for-culture @horsesarenotdeer @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature

@larkral @meanjeansjeans @m1ndwinder @raenestee @rbkzz

@shrekgogurt @skee3000 @supercutedinosaurs @talentpiper11 @thewholelemon

@valeffelees @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @argumentativeantitheticalg

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAs cold as your heart ･:*:｡𓏲ּ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDr. ishida uryu x f! reader

Chapter 2: sorrow. what happened three days prior their encounter?

❄ a/n: yep, I created a loop. But believe me it is worth reading to understand a little more about Uryu's inner turmoil. I know the cliffhanger is basically the same, but don't panic! you'll have the update before the year ends (haha) ❄ tw: not much, VERY angsty for now. I am taking my sweet time because I really wanna explore Uryu's feelings. He is a very complex character that deserves all the love. I want this to be a sweet love story that will -of course- contain smut as we go further into it. btw: Ichihime mentioned, they are getting married soon. I must warn you, there will be a "wedding chapter" so if you don't like the ship (i am just playing with the canon) you've been noticed. ❄ read here ➡ Chapter 0/1: back in town

Tossing and turning, that’s how his old bed found the young doctor. Uryu’s deep blue orbs fixed into the ceiling of his room, long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, blurry vision as his glasses had been left aside. 

Coming back feels painful; from memories of his mother kissing his forehead goodnight, from the day she was gone… and then, your smile. That beam he hurt; he broke. 

“She hasn’t left?”  “Hm… how could she? You idiot”

Ryuuken’s words torment Uryu’s mind; why didn’t she move on? Why did she have to stay? 

He clenches his fist, hitting the wall next to his bed. His eyes, shifting to the dance of falling snow on the window above, fill with tears of immense sorrow. 

Sudden images of the past arrive, to make it all even worse… a teenager's love, the thrill of the first kiss, the pain of the last.

“Name…” the current king of the Quincy exhales, wishing he hadn’t come back. 

A sudden sting hits his body; something far from auto control takes over, making him stand up and grab his glasses. 

Uryu flops down his bed back; “I can’t… I can’t go after her, there is no need to turn her life to shambles again…” 

Like that, fighting against selfishness, he fell to the side. No emotion showing on his pale façade, but inside, for the very first time, he damned the Quincy cross burned in between his pecs… 

The scent of sweet bread, freshly baked, wakes Uryu up. “Young master, breakfast is ready” the soft voice of a woman eases the sleepiness away. 

Right, back at home there is domestic service. How could he forget? Especially him?

“I’ll be ready in a moment” he comments, with raspy voice, and sleepy lids. Taking his glasses, he is able to see around, it’s painful to remember he is back in town. 

As the young doctor goes down the stairs, he can tell the atmosphere feels different. More than one reiatsu waits for him at the dining room; in fact, he is able to tell who those spiritual pressures belong to. 

“ISHIDA-KUN!!!”  “Ishida… you are back” 

A blast of love surrounds his thin frame, as the burnt orange princess weaves her arms around him. 

It’s always comforting, almost like healing, to feel Orihime’s hug. It is also comforting to see Ichigo’s deep eyes; a friend whose blood hides the same powers as his own, a friend who never gave up on him. 

“Hi…” Ishida stutters, with hints of shame and guilt. 

“We’ve missed you so much! And, you are just back in time! We’ve come to bring you something special” Inoue chimes, showing him a little envelope in between his pastry knitting hands. 

Uryu smiles, knowing exactly the content of such envelope. “Finally, Kurosaki. I’m glad you took the courage to propose” 

For a moment, and after a couple of -typical- discussions between Ichigo and him, the morning felt like everything was ok. This, until the inevitable question arrives… 

“Have you seen (Name), yet?” 

“No… and I don’t think I should. In fact, I won’t”

Orihime felt taken aback, how come after all this time? She knows more than anyone how much you’ve been waiting, patiently, for him to come back. 

“But… but she…”

“I am sorry Inoue. Those are my last words… I won’t”  

The ginger couple finally leaves. Inoue’s eyes still sad, Ichigo’s telling Uryu that the conversation isn’t over just yet. 

Uryu comes back inside; the freezing cold outside makes his nose a little red and runny. He fixes his glasses still thinking of you, of how less of a man he feels. 

He drags himself back to his room, remembering the little box he kept under his bed. It took a lot for him to leave it there and not take it with him when he left, but he decided to forget about those old memories. 

With little hopes of finding the box after so long, he kneels down and probes under the bed. The tip of his fingers reaches for something, and almost like regretting it, he takes the box. 

Dust flies around as he opens it to find a picture of both; still young, two high schoolers. Your arms surround him from behind, a smile as big and bright as the sun. His body, tense… oh, but his eyes… so full of love. 

Behind the old polaroid, something written by you:

Quincy boy, I have a crush on you. 

(Name) 💖 ~

Uryu sighs, and all those tears he couldn’t shed up until now, were now sprouting like waterfalls. He couldn’t notice, but the day went by with him crying, with him feeling miserable, with him carving the Quincy cross into the flesh of his palm… 

Two days passed by almost flying. Uryu didn’t notice, though. He only focused on two things; being miserable and ultimately fighting his father as he insisted on him working on his hospital from then on. A word that should describe Uryu the best could be “stubborn”

Kurosaki: pick you up at 10.

Uryu: for what? 

Kurosaki: bar. Chad coming after training. 

Uryu: k-

“I’m amazed you aren’t wearing a white coat” Ichigo jokes about Uryu’s clothing. He hasn’t stopped loving white, but he still thinks wearing white around his friends might make them uncomfortable. 

“Thank you, I’ve been well” Uryu answers, as sarcastic as always when it comes to his friend -and probably more like a brother- Ichigo. 

“I’m glad, because we need to talk” the substitute Shinigami fights back. “Inoue has been eating my brain with that, and I frankly think the same… what the fuck is going on with you and (Name)?” 

Uryu sighs, his forehead plastered against the cold window of the passenger’s seat. “Nothing. It’s been six years. I haven’t spoken to her in all that time, what is supposed to happen?” 

Despite trying to sound serious, those words only came as miserable to Ichigo. And he remembered how dyed-in-the-wool his friend can be… perhaps a couple of beers will make him speak, that or a fight. It isn’t new, they have been fighting since the day both met. 

Chad arrives once both have found a table on a very crowded bar near Urahara’s shop; they soon start to chat about their current lives, leaving at least for now, the “women” topic. 

However, a couple of minutes past midnight, Ichigo’s phone screen lights up. 

“INOUE 🍩 calling” 

Ichigo immediately picks up; it kinda startles Uryu, when he left Ichigo still acted a little immature towards Orihime. However, now, he showed a soon to be husband attitude. 

“Babe, are you ok?” Ichigo asks, his eyes shining when the voice of his soon to be wife let him know she was ok. “Now? yes, sure. Don’t worry, I’m going. Yep- no alcohol. Mhh, yes, Chad and Ishida” 

In a way, deep inside, Ishida feels absolutely jealous. The fact that his friend is able to talk to the woman he loves so freely, so sure. The fact that he is able to protect her, the fact that he is able to hug her to sleep every night. 

“Inoue asked me to pick her up. She went to have dinner before new year’s with the “Bakers Club”” he lets them know, and both Chad and him stand up. Uryu blinks a couple of times before following them, his friends have grown up and now he feels like he is an immature kid. Of course he would run to help Orihime, but she isn’t in danger, this is just the “daily living” of an adult couple who is about to marry. 

Chad and Ichigo chat about the following boxing matches as they walk to the car, while Uryu stays silent. He feels like an outsider, and wonders if he will be able to keep up with the speed of this new world. 

“Guys, I’m walking home” the Quincy mumbles.

“You sure?” Chad asks, noticing Ichigo already frowning at his friend’s decision. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. I need some fresh air” Uryu waves them goodbye, he doesn’t really want to give further reasons nor discuss his actions with them. 

Both friends look at each other with a worried expression but ultimately let him go. 

“He is not ok…”

“Nor he will until he sees her” 

Winter creeps through Uryu’s hands, he hates the fact he didn’t bring gloves. But he hates having come back the most. 

Closer, the blueish lights of the Karakura General Hospital shine. He takes a swift look at his father’s hospital, the one he is being pushed to attend as a doctor. Full of questions, he asks himself whether it would be good or not to become a pediatrician there knowing that would mean staying in Karakura to live. Is he ready to live there again? to potentially prescribe meds to your future children? 

The image of you having babies only made him more depressed. It is true Ryuken told him you haven’t moved on, but what exactly he meant with that he didn’t know. 

The sudden vibration of his phone breaks his attention from his miserable thoughts. A text from his father letting him know he is about to finish his shift. 

Ryuken > “I’m about to head home, did you eat?” 

Him > yep, walking home rn 

Uryu sighs; it seems as if Ryuken wanted to act more like a father than before, though he is still a little hesitant to engage in such mental energy drawing activities. 

A cold drop hits his pointy nose; a little snowflake melts on his pale skin competing for which one is whiter. 

“Ah… I’m gonna catch a cold, definitely” Uryu grunts, looking up at the blackest sky. 

“Shit, shit, shit” you swear, running under the falling snow, learning that your Karakura General Hospital nurse uniform isn’t warm enough. The shift is over, and you insisted on going home walking instead of letting Ryuken take you… now, you are actually regretting it. 

You bump into a man’s silhouette, falling back on your ass into the sidewalk. 

He turns around quickly.  The time freezes, as both word “sorry”

Those blue orbs; his black hair; the shine of his silver glasses. His handsome features, his hands, everything you’ve always loved, right in front of you. Again. After so long. 

“You- You are back. Uryu you are back” you whisper, standing up in a matter of seconds and running towards him. Like attacking him, you hug him with such strength that could crush his bones. “six years, six years… I’m so happy to see you, I’m so happy to- to-“ 

He pushes you away, detaching your body from his in an unfriendly manner. 

You are out of words; why would he…? 

“(Name), don’t do this” he spits; the venom in his words reminds you of the time he sided with Yhwach. 

You remain silent, searching for words everywhere inside you with no positive outcome. 

“Move out of the way, please” he continues, trying to pass by you, avoiding eye contact. His hair falls on his side, covering -conveniently- the incipient tears flooding his eyes. 

You watch him walk by, walking away from you… your legs fail you, letting your weight hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

“Stop, stop please… stop ignoring me! This is hurting me!” you plead, knees hitting the ground, drawing blood out of them, allowing the cold cement underneath to soak into that crimson fluid of life…

[to be continued]

you can: ➡ read chapter 0 if you haven't yet ➡ wait for the next chap

[truthwatcherblog]

I hope most of the Arc 1 Stormlight flashback characters get to take a backseat to the other characters in Arc 2. Except Venli. I am forever fascinated by Venli and I wish she had more chapters in Wind and Truth because I miss her. Okay this turned into a really long Venli appreciation post

First of all, her jealousy of Eshonai and her pursuit of power are both super interesting motivations. I like having a character who’s a protagonist who also wants power and was easily tempted into doing bad things, I think that makes Venli much more interesting. She was misled but she also very much wanted to be powerful amongst her people.

It’s also completely understandable that she wanted to pursue power in the way that she did because her people were suffering. They faced constant loss against the humans. Plus, she really wanted a way to save her mother. That’s where everything started even if it spiraled into a pursuit of power. Plus her role in her society as the keeper of songs, which she enjoys but also wishes she could do more with.. oh Venli I love you

Her arc in Rhythm of War with becoming a Knight Radiant despite being on the “bad” side, especially when paired with the entire Raboniel storyline, is great even though I wished it could’ve been a bigger focus. I love that people love Navani and Raboniel, I love them too, but as a result Venli’s arc gets overshadowed. She sings with the stones of Urithiru! She connects to one of the ancient, pre-shard gods! That’s so cool and I didn’t realize that’s what was happening at the time but it was setting up for the reveal of the older gods in Wind and Truth.

Oh oh I also think the Reachers and Timbre are so cool, the only type of Radiant Spren we’ve seen who still feel the betrayal of humanity but also see the necessity of forming new bonds, so they decide to bond with the Listeners. Not humans, but not serving Odium either.

When she finds Rlain and he’s like oh I thought I was the only one Venli I’m so glad you survived. And she’s so guilty because he doesn’t know that she was the one who was responsible for so much of what happened to their people. The guilt she feels, but also how that guilt powers her development.

The inherent loneliness and tragedy of her being the Last Listener, charged to use the story of her people as propaganda to get the more reluctant Singers to join the war effort even though that’s the opposite of what the Listeners wanted. Even though that goes against the songs she was taught to sing, to keep for her people. The happiness when she discovers that her people are still out there, that some of them survived.

I also wish Venli had gotten more of a role in Wind and Truth, though the book was already juggling a lot of storylines. The new Listener nation, situated around Retribution’s Perpendicularity, is fascinating to me. I hope that it’s revisited in the next arc, I mean it definitely seems like it’ll be important.

She and the Listeners are probably going to be one of the only people who have access to surgebinding on Retribution-ruled Roshar. They’ll be able to use Voidlight gemstones to fuel their powers while all the human Radiants will be relinquished to Urithiru (except Lift, and I also wonder if Renarin and Rlain will be able to use Voidlight because their spren don’t follow the normal rules… but I digress). They also have the only stable Perpendicularity on Roshar. That means if any off-world forces, worried about Retribution’s formation, want to access Roshar, they’ll need to get through Venli and the Listeners.

[whatevertheweather]

Thank you all for the tags @run-for-chamo-miles @monbons @forabeatofadrum @rimeswithpurple @ileadacharmedlife @artsyunderstudy @noblecorgi @you-remind-me-of-the-babe! You're all making me very emotional about fandom, and my TBR has gotten out of control.

So. It's 2024 for a little bit more. I'm not sure what's going to happen as I write this post, but I know it's not going to be succinct, so we're just going to start below the cut and see what happens.

I'm waffling over where to start, but I've decided on what we're here for, which is the fic recap. I did actually make fic goals in 2024, and I did actually meet some of them, which I'm trying to focus on instead of the parts I didn't meet. Here's a nice lil screenshot to sum that up.

I did give Bait and Switch a checkmark after some hesitation, because it says ongoing, and I did keep it going. I just didn't finish. (The new goal is before CORB 2025 I guess.)

So I completed 2 fics. Continued 1. Posted 60,917 words, AO3 says, even though that's including the chapters of the WIPs I started last year, and by my clumsy calculations with that in mind, it's actually 32,990. Did not meet my goals, struggled to write most of the time, but when I was looking for these stats, I found AO3 doesn't even give me a 2023 tab (rip first chaps of Bait and Switch and Musical Chairs, I guess), so it's an improvement over last year.

It just doesn't feel like it, because so much of what I did is unposted. So those are the stats I'm gonna give.

Words that didn't get posted: 23.5k

Fics this close to done that I just couldn't get any farther on: 4

Fics started: 3

Fics lovingly revisited after being abandoned for a long while: 2

Number of projects I got really excited about writing: 3

Number of times I wrote AHAHAHA in brainstorming documents because I figured out what I need to do to fix the problems I was having: 5

How long it will take me to turn those ahas into action: I cannot possibly say

Number of times I should have reached out for brainstorming help: 50, probably

Number of times I actually reached out: 3, I think

It's these last two points I actually care about. Well, no, I care about all of it, but it's these last two I've been thinking about. I had writing goals for 2024, I'm going to have writing goals for 2025, but I also had a more nebulous goal to participate in fandom more, and that's the one I'm actually bothered about not meeting.

I have a bad habit of thinking the only way I can participate is by getting fic done. Sharing it. Posting snippets if it's not done. Like I can only rejoice in other people's WIPsday posts if I have my own, instead of just being inspired by other people's writing and art. Or I can only share excitement or progress if I'm sure it's going to go somewhere, instead of just posting what I have and letting the community of it all be its own excitement. Or I can only comment if I have the headspace to put together a stunning review that perfectly encapsulates what I liked about a fic/art/anything, instead of just saying what I can or messaging someone to tell them I loved the thing they made, as if I don't know how wonderful it feels when that happens.

I'm getting sappy and maudlin on main, but I appreciate this fandom so much, even when I revert to lurking, and I want so much to get back to participating and talking to people and sharing in all the amazing wonderful things this fandom does. Y'all are some of the most talented and creative and kind people and I adore you all. So that's my main (fandom-related) goal for 2025, and any fic completed will just be bonus points.

But! Since we're here for fic at the end of the year, I will round out this rambling post by saying there are at least 3 ideas I'm hopeful I'll be able to maintain my current level of enthusiasm for, and beyond that there are about 5 that are a few sentences away from done, so there's hope for seeing at least some fic from me in the new year. Related, here's a peek at the first three documents on my drive.

Two of these fall in the "a few sentences away from done good lord why can't you just finish this" category. The other one falls in the category of things I'm actually very excited about, and hope to at least have a WIPsday post for it before too long. Because I'm thinking keeping things secret for fear of never finishing them is actually kind of silly, and I don't need to keep trying to create things in a vacuum.

Finally, a mess of tags that is me waving hello with both hands: @fatalfangirl @moodandmist @martsonmars @facewithoutheart @whogaveyoupermission

@mostlymaudlin @sillyunicorn @aristocratic-otter @bookish-bogwitch @alexalexinii

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @iamamythologicalcreature @ionlydrinkhotwater @thewholelemon @bluedahlia912

@youarenevertooold @cutestkilla @raenestee @confused-bi-queer @basiltonbutliketheherb

[hugsandchaos]

Alexa, Play Mission Impossible

Summary: I wonder why Orbit was so insistent about Danny following him…

Extra Notes: I was honestly so proud of my last chapter, specifically the fight scene. Oh, I also had an extra set of eyes to help me out with this, so everyone please give thanks to the awesome @traumafactory28 for being my beta reader!

Word Count: 2,985

Orbit. They didn’t have a name before Danny gave them one. Most ghost blobs don’t, being able to recognize specific ghosts and other blobs from their ecto signature. It was nice, though. It was a nice sound, the word “Orbit”, and it felt oddly fitting for them. A name wasn’t the only thing Danny had given them, though. He also gave them protection.

It was only fair that they give him something in return. Besides, Danny is a halfa! He needs food! Not just human food, but also ectoplasm, like any other ghost. So when Orbit sensed some in the distance, he tried to lead Danny to it, but the halfa was stubborn about keeping up appearances and refused to go unless someone was in danger.

They should’ve nodded yes. In a way, he wouldn’t have been lying. Danny was in danger. Orbit was in danger.

Inside the backpack, it was mostly dark. The light of the fire was just barely a small orange glow from outside. Not that it was a problem, Orbit could see well in the dark just like all wisps. The problem was that they couldn’t tell how much time had passed since Danny rested his head on the bag or if he was asleep yet. Most of the contents of the bag -- the pajamas and the books -- were what held his head.

The rest, along with Orbit, didn’t feel the small weight, giving them hope that they could peek out of the bag without Danny feeling them move. They began wriggling their tiny body across the items. Danny had forgotten to close his bag all the way. Orbit silently thanked the Ancients for the halfa’s mistake as they crawled closer to the opening. They could see the faintest bit of moonlight on the grass, which meant it might be pretty high up by now.

The weight on the bag shifted. Orbit froze. They didn’t dare move. They waited until it had stopped moving, and then a while longer. Was Danny going to sleep? The weight had shifted to be more on the left side. Luckily, they were on the right side and had actually gained a bit more room to move with the change.

After a few minutes of waiting, they resumed crawling again. In a time span that felt both short and long, they finally made their way to the exit. They manipulated the ectoplasm that made up their body and stretched it out to better squeeze through the opening. Once they were out, they hovered just centimeters above the ground and turned themselves invisible.

Outside, the moon was now in its quarter phase and shone down on the ground from the near center of the sky. It was almost midnight. The crickets were still singing and chirping, and owls hooted from somewhere in the surrounding forest. Orbit’s eyes didn’t need much time adjusting. The backpack had blackened most of the light outside.

The wisp slowly floated around the backpack and peeked out from behind it. One of the hylians Orbit saw sleeping earlier was awake, and the one that had been awake now slept with the rest. The one that was awake wore the long blue scarf. What was his name? They couldn’t see them outside of the bag, but they did learn to recognize their voices and learn their names.

Whoever it was, they didn’t seem to notice them. They were distracted by their job looking over the rest. Orbit turned back around and spotted the thermos in the side pocket of the backpack. Perfect.

Orbit flew closer to the thermos and reached out, but hesitated before they grabbed it. They flew up a little higher, remaining invisible, and peeked over the bag. Danny was laying on his left side with his new bedroll. He had curled up a little, so it was hard to see his face and tell if he was asleep or not. Orbit flew over the bag to look at his face. Sure enough, his eyes were closed and his mouth hung slightly open as he snored quietly.

Good. He was asleep. Orbit flew back over to the thermos and grabbed at it. They slowly pulled it out to make as little noise as possible. After it was out, they used their powers to turn the thermos invisible and lifted it up as they flew higher. They picked a random direction, facing somewhere in the south, and sped off into the trees.

Orbit was small, but also very fast. Every ghost blob had to be fast, or they’d become somebody’s snack, and so it didn’t take long before they could no longer hear the campfire. They flew past an owl and over both animals and monsters. They flew higher into the canopy until they were above it and the trees looked like a lumpy blanket of soft green below. Up there, they noticed a glint of white light and turned to look at it.

It was a lake reflecting moonlight on the water. Orbit turned to the right and began heading towards it. The lake could act as a way to buy time for what they had in mind, and it was far enough from the group.

Once the forest turned into water below, Orbit dived down lower to the ground, or the surface of the water. As they grew closer to the other side of the lake, they noticed something on the coast. It was very faint, but as they approached, it became clearer. It was a pale white light. It looked like there was a shape behind it. Orbit began to feel uneasy and slowed down, but didn’t stop. The shape became clearer as they came closer.

Crud. Another poe.

This poe was smaller than the first one, the one still in the thermos, but was definitely just as dangerous. The worst part was that any attempts Orbit would make to sneak by it wouldn’t work. It was already looking right at them. It stood at the coast and swung its scythe out to try to cut them despite the large distance, but didn’t try to cross the water. It stayed out of the ripples’ reach even though there was still land to walk on. Was it scared of the water?

Orbit didn’t stop their approach, though. They only had so much time. They couldn’t waist any of it. This thing wasn’t going to get in their way. As a matter of fact, it might end up helping them.

The wisp picked up in speed again and flew over the poe. The poe levitated higher and narrowly missed them by a few inches. They shrieked in anger and turned around to follow them into the foliage. Orbit sprinted for a short distance before finding a spot on a fallen log and placed the thermos facing the roughly direction of the poe. They looked up to see it barreling after them through the branches, swinging its scythe wildly to cut its way through.

Their core buzzed as they watched the sickened ghost come closer and closer. Its teeth gnashed together, eager to crush Orbit and swallow them. The scythe cut through a branch thicker than Orbit’s body like it was paper. They took their eyes off for a split second to adjust the angle of the thermos so it was pointing directly at it. It was now racing towards them. It raised its scythe.

Orbit pressed the green button on the side of the thermos and warbled in alarm as the poe inside was shot out of the thermos, colliding with the other. Both of them screeched as they fell to the ground. The one underneath bit the other’s arm, earning a cry of pain from the one above it. Orbit grabbed the thermos and flew high into the air before either of them stopped fighting long enough to notice them.

Soon enough, the wisp was crossing the lake and mo longer heard the poes fighting. They looked up at the sky. The moon had moved a little and it was now either exactly midnight or a little after. They only had a few hours to complete their mission. If things went well, it’ll be more than enough time.

Flying over the forest and passing over the camp again, Orbit retuned to where Danny was with them earlier, when they first picked up on the “scent” of ectoplasm. As they expected, they found it while hovering near two trees that were growing a little too close together. They weren’t sure how Danny didn’t notice it. Maybe his ability to detect ectoplasm was weaker in his human form.

They started to follow it. They had to stop every once in a while to turn in different directions, trying to see which way the pull was stronger, before they could continue.

At one point, they stopped. The pull was now behind them. Orbit turned around and slowly went back the way they came, paying close attention to the pull as it slowly lessened. They scanned the area around them as they went. Suddenly, the pull was from behind again. Somewhere below. They stopped in their tracks and looked down at the forest floor.

A small green light glowed softly from between a couple of stones. Orbit turned intangible and flew through the stones, and there it was. A very large puddle of ectoplasm covered most of the stony floor of the cave. The wisp flew down quickly and placed the thermos on top of one of the few patches of dry stone, then dove into the green liquid with their mouth wide open.

The first gulp of ectoplasm was amazing. They weren’t absolutely starving for it, but that didn’t mean they weren’t hungry. It had been over three days after all, and even wisps like Orbit needed to eat ectoplasm at some point. They took a moment to eat, enjoying the feeling of their core being brought back to full strength, before they flew out and turned towards the thermos.

They picked it up and twisted it in their arms so that it was standing upright, then began twisting the lid off. They removed it and saw that it was completely empty, just as they’d hoped now that the poe was gone. They picked the thermos up again, once again holding it horizontally, and dipped it into the ectoplasm. Slowly, they dunk it further and further into the ectoplasm.

The thermos grew heavier Orbit and tilted slightly so that more would spill into the bottom. They only stopped when the thermos was nearly fully submerged in the ectoplasm. After a while, they lifted it up, now holding it by the rim of the top, and carefully carried it back to solid ground. After setting it down, they picked up the lid and twisted it back on.

Orbit picked the thermos up and flew up through the rocks, through the trees, and high into the sky. The moon was now noticeably past its midpoint. It had been over an hour since they released the poe and went searching for food. They looked back in the direction they came, thankful for their good memory and habit of mapping every direction they went in, and began rushing back to the camp.

By the time they finally got back, another hour had passed. Luckily, most of the group was still asleep, with the exception being the old man with the one working eye. He and Blue Scarf must’ve switched places at some point. Orbit kept themselves invisible and worked carefully to nudge the thermos back into the side pocket of Danny’s bag.

When they were halfway done, the halfa started moving and Orbit froze. They listened more than watched as he mostly moved his legs. They kicked at something in his dreams, but after a while, they stopped and he curled up. Unfortunately, the blanket had been kicked off while he was battling whatever enemy was in his mind. Before Orbit could try to pull it back over, they heard movement. Coming from the camp.

Orbit pulled away from the thermos and peeked around the backpack. The Old Man was coming over. The wisp didn’t need to hold back a startled noise, being silent when sensing potential danger was something they learned long ago. They watched him come closer and look down at Danny. He crouched down and reached a hand out for him.

Suddenly, Orbit’s core began buzzing with alarm and panic. What was he doing? Was he going to hurt him?! Was he reaching for his leg so he could drag him off somewhere?! Orbit quietly took in a deep breath and willed the ectoplasm holding them together to stretch out to make their mouth bigger, ready to let out an ear piercing shriek and drop the invisibility and bite into this man’s arm and--

Old Man reached over Danny and grabbed the blanket. He pulled it over the halfa, then stood back up and walked away, back to where the others lay around the fire. Orbit remained still for a few seconds before pulling themselves back together and hovered over Danny. The hylian had simply put the blanket back where it belong.

Orbit looked back at Old Man for a short while, relieved that he hadn’t done anything and a little confused why they reacted the way they did. They were sure this whole time that these people were nice and could be trusted, so why did they suddenly freak out like that when they saw him get close to Danny? Did they not trust them and didn’t realize it until now?

Whatever the reason, the sun would be up in a few hours. They needed to finish their mission. They looked down at the thermos, still halfway into the pocket, and went back down to finish. After getting it all the way into the pocket, they slipped back into the backpack and made themselves comfortable laying on top of the pajamas Danny had packed. They closed their eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Orbit was promptly woken up by their body being moved and squished between the bag and the clothes. They squeaked in surprise, but it was cut off and muffled by the sudden movements. They blinked and wriggled their body between the two walls until they were on top, all the while the world around them seemed to bounce. They looked around and soon realized what was going on. The bag had been lifted up and was now in the usual up-and-down motion.

The wisp calmed down and folded their arms in front of their body. They knew what was going to happen next. They just needed to wait a little longer. It was still really dark outside, but Orbit thought they could see a hint of light. Either it was the sun just barely coming up or Danny’s flashlight. They couldn’t really tell.

After a minute or two of walking, the bag was placed down somewhere.

“Was it unzipped the whole time?” Danny asked. The zipper was pulled over Orbit’s head and the wisp looked up to see Danny looking down at them.”Hey, buddy. Was the zipper open a little the whole night?” He asked in a hushed tone.

Orbit moved half their body up and down in a nod and flew out of the bag. The sky was in the late Blue Hour and there were hints of yellow past the trees, but there wasn’t a whole lot of light. The main source of light was from the flashlight from Danny’s phone. They flew down to where the thermos was and pulled it out of the pocket.

“What are you doing?” Danny asked nervously. Orbit flew down to the ground and set the thermos down. They grabbed the top of the thermos and twisted the top off.”Wait! Don’t--… open it? Where’s the poe?” Danny whispered. He knelt down and set the phone down on the ground.

The light from the flashlight vanished, and all there was now was the very little blue light coming down through the trees, the glow of Orbit’s body, and the ectoplasm in the thermos. He picked the thermos up with a hand and looked at it confused.”Where did this come from?” He asked. Orbit flew up to be at eye level with him and quietly trilled.

“You got some?” Danny asked. Orbit nodded and chirped.“Drink it?” He questioned. Orbit moved half his body up and down in another nod. Danny’s face scrunched up in slight repulsion, but did as they said and took a sip of the ectoplasm. The change happened almost immediately.

The young halfa’s eyes widened and he started drinking more and more as he seemed to realize that he’d been hungrier than he originally thought. Orbit actually started to worry that he’d drink too fast and choke on it. Humans were more prone to that accident than ghosts and it was potentially more dangerous.

Luckily, Danny stopped. Orbit peeked at the ectoplasm. It was still largely full, but had lowered an inch, or two, maybe. He let out a small breath. The relief coming from him now was nice.

“Wow. You were right.” Danny said. He took one more sip, then twisted the thermos shut. He smiled at Orbit.”Where did you even find this?” He asked.

“Hey, Danny! Come on, it’s my turn to spar with you!” Wind called out.

Danny jolted and turned towards the camp.”One second!” He shouted back. He turned to Orbit.”I don’t know where you got this, but thank you. I didn’t know I needed this.” He whispered. Orbit pressed their body against the side of Danny’s face and purred before flying back into the backpack and leaving Danny to do what he needed to do.

Danny now had his fill of ectoplasm and half of a full stomach. Their job was done, for now.

[foundress0fnothing]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Thanks for the tag, @popjunkie42! 💕

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

(If you're in my answers consider yourself tagged if you'd like to play!!)

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

57,016! It's by no means a lot, especially compared to what some are able to produce, but I'm pretty pleased with them.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

4, all for acotar

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I have 3 published WIPs that I started this year: my Feysand secret santa for @beesays, and two Nessian-centric, modern AU WIPs. I have a partially published Azris academia WIP from 2023 hanging around as well that I haven’t given up on yet. I've started, but not yet published, a Feysandnyx first war AU that I'm planning to start publishing around my birthday (in mid-February).

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

I am forever in love with pied piper Feysand, whistles far and wee. I was also really pleased with how my elucien week fic, what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, turned out!

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

There’s not much of it yet, but leave a kiss but in the cup is probably the most experimental for me—it’s a long fic (or it will be) and the first thing I’ve written in present tense.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I think—I had no idea where the second chapter would go when I published the first one—it was purely vibes and thots 😌

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

leave a kiss but in the cup—it definitely has a modern romance novel feel and is still very much a wip, and so the fact that it didn’t get a lot of attention wasn’t a surprise.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are so many wonderful artists that I couldn’t possibly name them all, but to name a few: @witchlingsandwyverns, @laxibbeb, @velidewrites, @stickyelectrons, @janearts, @froggybogwitch, @artinelysian, and @gracieart. 💗

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

SO! MANY! How can I choose?? But I’m so grateful for the community and inspiration offered by people like @popjunkie42, @yourstarsmyscars, @violetasteracademic, @beesays, @rosanna-writer, @the-lonelybarricade, @separatist-apologist, @thesistersarcheron, @dustjacketmusings, @jsmelodies, @reverie-tales, and @shadowriel.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

Again, so many wonderful, wonderful folks, but I want to shout out @violetasteracademic! I’ve loved getting to know her this year—she writes the Archeron sisters beautifully and is a revolutionary beta reader 😘

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

Not this year! Over the summer, I tossed around the idea of an acotar key fic with @popjunkie42, @beesays, @witch-and-her-witcher, and @climbthemountain2020, and we went so far as to create all our throuple groupings, but I don't think any actual writing happened 😅 Maybe for 2025...

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Honestly, just getting some writing done at all this year. PPD was a bitch, and 9/10 I will choose to read in my downtime rather than write, and so the fact that I ended the year with words at all feels like a pretty big win to me.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

The joy of sprinting as a writing technique! I hadn’t used it before, but it was summer and I was feeling intense guilt about not having finished last year’s secret santa gift, Firm and Fragrant Still the Brambleberries, and so I tried spriting with some friends on a whim and found it to be a really useful way to trick my brain into writing.

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

If you’re stuck, shift to writing with a pen and paper!! I work out so many writing ideas and issues and questions this way before shifting back to the computer. The physicality and slow pace of it is really important for me.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

I’d like to get my WIPs cleaned up. They’re all stories I’m interested in telling, even the older ones, and I look forward to having the chance to do so, even if it takes a while.

(I’m also planning to defend my dissertation in the fall so lololololol we’ll see what actually happens)

If you’re tagged in this, please consider yourself tagged for the game 💕

[mimicteruyo]

Okay now there has to be less than 5k to go but also just how long is this chapter going to be?!

[allisonreader]

Laundry is done for now. We'll see if any writing actually gets done.

[godhasforsnakenme]

BOOK REVIEW 📖

This is the one for February – I was reminded of this book half way through the month and decided to reread it again because I couldn't remember how it ended; plus a short mystery is always nice to read (side note: this ended up as an ebook read bc I couldn't remember where in my storage boxes I have my copy – it's in storage because it's a paperback edition and old and I don't want it to die on me yet lol)

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil Schoenheit x reader

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think? Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

Series Masterlist

You'd avoided it for so long. For months, your best friend had been pestering you to read the shoujo isekai novel of the year. According to them, it was the epitome of romantic drama, the kind that would "turn your heart into a mess of feelings" and "change your life." So, finally, after a particularly grueling week, your willpower hit rock bottom. You caved. You bought it, poured yourself a drink, and figured, "How bad can it be?"

Turns out, really bad.

You’d barely made it past the first few chapters before your brain began to leak out of your ears. Every overused villainess plot point imaginable was crammed into the story like a contest of "how much nonsense can we fit in here before the reader gives up?" The evil fiancée everyone inexplicably hated? Check. The perfect cinnamon roll male lead everyone adored even though he had the personality of wet cardboard? Double check. The heroine who was so pure that even her sneeze would be enough to unite warring nations who also happens to be the saintess? You had to put the book down and take a moment when she gave a speech about friendship that was so saccharine, your teeth hurt.

Grumbling and filled with regret, you got up to refill your drink… only to slip on bubble wrap you swore yesterday that you were going to pick up later, fall face-first into the kitchen counter, and began to bleed out.

It was a comically stupid way to die. You knew that as you lay there, watching the light fade from your vision, your last thoughts being, This is the dumbest thing that’s ever happened to me.

And then, darkness.

You woke up with a groan, your head pounding. As your vision cleared, you noticed you were lying in a very, very fancy bed. Silk sheets, gold trimming on the canopy, the works. And you were dressed in something frilly, layered, and far too complicated for someone who just woke up from a near-death experience.

"What the…"

You sat up, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze as the realization hit you. This was not your bed. This was not your apartment. This was… Oh god, no.

You whipped your head around the lavish room, recognizing it from the novel you’d been hate-reading just last night. The massive mirror above the dresser, the tapestry with an overly detailed family crest, the obnoxiously large bouquet of roses that smelled way too sweet.

You’re in the book.

Panicking, you scrambled out of bed and rushed to the full-length mirror by the wall. The reflection staring back at you was not your own. Instead, you saw an unfamiliar face—her face. The one mentioned once, maybe twice, in the whole novel before being discarded like an old shoe: the betrothed of the villain.

The fiancée who dumps him for the male lead. The fiancée who gets themselves killed in the process.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned, slapping your forehead. “I’m the villain’s betrothed? I’m that idiot who leaves Vil Schoenheit because I fall for the human incarnation of a sugar cube?”

But there was no escaping it. You were now stuck in the body of a side character so irrelevant that even her death was treated as an afterthought. The one who leaves her handsome, ambitious, gorgeous fiancé for… Neige.

No. No, no, no. You were not about to die over a soggy cinnamon roll.

Determined to change your fate, you gathered your wits and opened the door to leave the room. But of course, you ran headlong into a tall figure, knocking you both back.

“Oof! Careful there!” a smooth, yet stern voice said. You looked up—and froze. Standing before you, looking like something straight out of a high-fashion magazine, was Vil Schoenheit. The man whose heart you were supposed to break, the villain who would later descend into madness after you ditch him.

And wow. In person, he was even more stunning than the novel had described. His golden-blond hair shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the window, his purple eyes were as sharp as they were beautiful, and his posture screamed confidence.

You blinked up at him, utterly dumbfounded. You’re supposed to leave him? For Neige? You nearly gagged at the thought.

Vil raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your wide-eyed staring. “Is something the matter?”

You gulped. Right. You were supposed to be cold and dismissive toward him, weren’t you? But how? This man looked like he could make the heavens weep with his beauty. How had your character ever even considered leaving him?

“No, nothing’s the matter!” you blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. “Actually, everything’s great! You look fantastic! I mean, not that you don’t always look fantastic—because you do—but, you know, extra fantastic today!”

Vil’s eyes narrowed. “You’re acting strange.”

Abort. Abort!

You quickly cleared your throat. “Uh, I’ve just been… thinking. About us.”

His gaze became sharper. “About us?”

You nodded, plastering on your most sincere smile. “Yes! I’ve realized… I haven’t been very, uh, appreciative of you lately. And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. So from now on, I’ll be the most appreciative fiancée ever!”

Vil looked at you as though you’d just told him the sun was cold. He clearly didn’t trust this sudden change in attitude. “What exactly brought this on?” he asked slowly, suspiciously.

Time for Plan B. “Oh, you know, just… reflection! Self-improvement! I thought, ‘Why would I ever look anywhere else when I’ve got someone like *you* right in front of me?’ You’re… amazing, really.” You cringed internally at how corny that sounded, but Vil didn’t seem entirely put off.

“Hm,” was all he said, but his piercing gaze stayed locked on you, watching for any sign of deceit.

You were sweating bullets, but at least he wasn’t storming off. Yet.

You knew from the moment you read the back cover that this novel was going to be a dumpster fire of clichés, but you were not prepared for the sheer chaos of it all.

So, first off, we have the heroine—the Saintess—who has somehow never faced a single hardship in her life, despite the fact that she’s supposed to be the kingdom’s beacon of virtue and a symbol of overcoming hardship. She’s engaged to the crown prince, who conveniently disappears on a diplomatic mission and dies offscreen, probably to make room for her new love interest, Neige LeBlanche. Neige. That sparkly ray of sunshine who is so perfect and pure that you feel like you need sunglasses whenever his name is mentioned. Because apparently, what’s more romantic than falling for a guy immediately after your fiancé kicks the bucket?

Then there’s the second male lead, the brooding Duke of the North, who checks all the boxes: tall, brooding, handsome, tragic backstory—yawn. Of course, he’s madly in love with the Saintess, and like any self-respecting second male lead in a trashy romance, he sacrifices himself for her later. Because nothing says “I’m irrelevant” quite like noble self-sacrifice.

And don't even get started on the heroine's best friend. She’s basically there to fawn over the Saintess and then inexplicably fall for Vil, the Grand Duke, after she pressures him into apologizing for insulting the heroine's dress. Like, why? Was his dress critique that alluring?

Now, Vil Schoenheit. The Grand Duke. The guy you’re currently stuck with as your fiancé. He’s actually a decent character—powerful, intelligent, not falling over himself to worship the Saintess like everyone else. But in the novel, he’s wasted. Why? Because he’s engaged to the character you’re now possessing—Miss Mean and Cold—who treats him like dirt because she’s too busy fantasizing about Neige. You know, the guy she has no shot with because he’s destined to fall for the Saintess. Then, when your character eventually dumps Vil for Neige, she dies in a freak accident. Vil, who actually loved her (for reasons no one understands), is so heartbroken that he turns into the main villain.

Yes, that’s right—this whole mess of a plot ends with Vil going full villain mode because the love of his life ditched him for the living embodiment of a children’s snowman and then died in a way that no one can explain. Cue the Saintess and Neige teaming up to defeat him and live happily ever after.

And that’s the story. A tangled web of nonsensical relationships, conveniently dead characters, and more emotional whiplash than you can handle. And the cherry on top? You're stuck in it, watching everything unfold firsthand. It's honestly a wonder the book didn’t end up as kindling.

A few days passed, and somehow, miraculously, you managed to keep up the act. Every morning you would wake up, still half-expecting to snap out of this bizarre isekai nightmare, but instead, you were met with Vil’s meticulous morning routine and the low hum of his voice offering helpful reminders about skincare.

And the more time you spent with him, the more baffled you became.

How the hell could the original character have messed this up?!

Sure, Vil was particular—okay, maybe borderline obsessive—about appearances. His lectures about proper sunscreen application could rival the length of the Odyssey. And yes, the daily inspections of your outfit choices felt a little like going through customs at a royal border.

But… he was kind? Like, actually caring?

Every meal was an event because he made sure you were eating properly and not just shoving random food into your mouth like the gremlin you clearly were before. He listened when you rambled about your day, offering advice with this gentle patience that honestly made you want to weep. How could anyone leave this?

You found yourself in front of a mirror one afternoon, pacing and gesturing wildly at your reflection, as if you could summon the spirit of the character you’d possessed. "What the actual hell was wrong with you?!" you hissed at the glass. “What kind of brain rot would make someone ditch a man like Vil?! Are you missing brain cells, or was your skull just a rental with nothing in it?!”

You paused, glaring at your reflection as if it could offer answers, but nope. It just stared back, helpless.

“Like, hello?!” you continued, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “You had a golden opportunity here! He’s literally gorgeous! He’s got hair that looks like it was hand-spun by some ancient beauty god, his fashion sense could kill a lesser mortal, and he—*gasp*—cares about your well-being?!”

You slapped your forehead dramatically. “How did you mess this up? Were you allergic to good things? Did you wake up every day and choose to be a feral raccoon instead of, I don’t know, appreciating this actual masterpiece of a human being? What, did you look at his perfect face and go, ‘Nah, I’d rather yeet myself into self-destruction?’ Because clearly, that’s what happened!”

Your reflection remained silent, offering no help, which only fueled your rant further.

“You absolute donut! You ridiculous bottle of poorly mixed potion! You—” You stopped mid-sentence, running out of sufficiently creative insults to throw at the former owner of this body. Because seriously, what kind of fool would’ve thrown Vil away?

You gripped the sides of the vanity table, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at your own reflection. "If I find out that you gave up on this because he once asked you to wear a face mask or told you to drink more water… I swear, I'm going to find a way to repossess you just to kill you again for making me deal with this."

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your self-directed tirade. You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around to see Vil standing in the doorway, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Talking to yourself again?” he asked, his voice smooth but with a teasing edge. “You know, that’s usually a sign of stress. Perhaps we should revisit that meditation routine I mentioned.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, wondering how much he’d overheard. But then you caught sight of that soft smile he reserved just for you, and your brain short-circuited all over again.

Right. The original character was definitely an idiot.

The first major hurdle hit you when you least expected it.

It all started with what should have been a calm afternoon—a brief moment of peace where you and Vil could actually spend time together, no schemes, no weird confrontations, just enjoying tea. You were finally getting comfortable with each other, slowly building the trust that had been so fragile at the start. Finally, you thought, things were moving smoothly.

Then the overused villainess trope decided to rear its ugly head.

Vil was talking about an upcoming event he’d be hosting, his voice calm, his usual stern features softened just slightly by the moment of peace. You were finally letting your guard down.

That was until the door creaked open and in waltzed the heroine’s best friend, a girl with wide, doe-like eyes and a penchant for stirring up unnecessary drama. Behind her, looming in the doorway, was the second male lead—your eternal source of frustration from the novel. He was tall, brooding, and always, always popping up at the most inconvenient moments. A defeated looking Epel walked in behind them, with a look that screamed 'trust me I tried to stop them.'

“Oh no,” you whispered under your breath, recognizing this scene before it could even play out. You knew what was coming, and you braced yourself for the utter absurdity of it.

Vil’s sharp gaze flicked from the two intruders back to you, his brows furrowing in mild irritation. “What is it now?” he muttered, already sensing the impending nonsense.

The heroine’s friend, ever the bringer of chaos, marched right up to your table with a dramatic flair that could only come from someone who believed they were the only purveyor of justice. “I can’t stay quiet any longer!” she declared, pointing an accusatory finger in Vil’s direction. “Vil, how could you treat the heroine this way?! You’ve been so cold, so distant—and it’s clear that you don’t truly care for anyone but yourself!”

You blinked. Excuse me?

Vil’s lips pursed, the irritation growing on his face. “And what, pray tell, did I do?”

“You know what you did!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms like she’d just delivered the most damning statement in history. “You’ve been ignoring her, brushing her off, and acting like she doesn’t even exist. She’s heartbroken because of you!”

You groaned internally. Oh no, this was that scene. The one where, because Vil once made an offhand comment about the heroine’s poor choice in dresses at a ball, suddenly he was painted as some cruel villain who was emotionally tormenting the delicate heroine. It was such an incredibly stupid misunderstanding that you distinctly remembered wanting to throw the book across the room when you’d first read it.

To make matters worse, the second male lead, standing silently but brooding in the doorway, was glowering at Vil like he was ready to challenge him to a duel at any moment. Because of a comment about a dress.

“Are you serious?” you blurted out, the frustration bubbling up before you could stop yourself.

The heroine’s friend gasped, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?!”

“Let me get this straight,” you said, rising from your seat with a groan, “you’re upset because Vil, what, didn’t shower her with praise at the last event? And now you’ve decided to come in here, storming into our tea time, to complain about it?”

The second male lead’s brooding scowl deepened, his jaw tightening. “Vil has been cruel—”

“About a dress.” You cut him off, waving your hand dismissively. “Vil made one comment about her dress. That’s it. And now we’re doing this whole song and dance like he’s some kind of evil tyrant?”

The room was already tense, the heroine’s best friend visibly fuming, but you couldn’t help it. The words just came out before you could stop them.

“And while we’re at it,” you said, your voice dripping with mock innocence, “let’s talk about that dress. You know, the one you’re all so upset about. I mean, I’m no fashion expert, but who in their right mind thought wearing that shade of mustard-yellow was a good idea?”

The friend’s mouth fell open, but you weren’t finished. “I mean, she walked into the ballroom looking like a sad banana trying to go to a high society function. I get it—saintess and all that—but there’s no reason to dress like the interior of an overripe cantaloupe.”

Vil made a choking sound next to you, and you dared to glance at him. His eyes were wide with shock, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement. Oh, he wasn’t pleased with the crudeness, but he definitely wasn’t going to stop you either.

“And you,” you said, turning to the second male lead, who had been standing there like a silent, brooding statue, just staring at the two of you menacingly. “What’s your excuse? You came in here with all this brooding energy, acting like you’re about to duel someone over the fate of the heroine. But seriously, what’s with your whole tragic hero act? Is your personality just permanent raincloud or do you practice that in the mirror?”

Vil covered his mouth with his hand, and you could see his shoulders shaking slightly. He was losing the battle to keep his composure, but he was trying—for dignity’s sake, of course.

Epel, on the other hand, had completely given up. The moment you’d said “sad banana,” he had fallen off his chair, doubled over in laughter, his face red as he clutched his sides. You weren’t sure if it was your insults or the second male lead’s thunderstruck expression, but either way, Epel was in hysterics.

“I—” the heroine’s friend sputtered, but you interrupted her again.

“Oh, and you.” You looked her up and down with a condescending smirk. “You really want to talk about fashion? Because I don’t know who told you that wearing ruffles with plaid was a look, but they were wrong. You’re out here looking like you got lost in a fabric store and fell into the clearance bin.”

This time, Vil snorted. Actually snorted. The sound was so out of place that it almost derailed your tirade, but you powered through, buoyed by his reaction.

The second male lead looked like he was ready to explode, his aura now bordering on murderous. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, can’t I?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Because it seems like all of you came in here with the intent to stir up drama over something as trivial as a constructive remark. If you’re going to go to war over fashion, at least wear something that doesn’t look like you picked it out with your eyes closed. Scratch that, I couldn’t imagine picking that up even with my eyes closed.”

By now, Epel was rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “C-couldn’t pick it out… with your eyes closed!” he wheezed, slapping his knee.

Vil, despite himself, let out a low giggle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well,” he said, his voice steady but filled with mirth, “I suppose subtlety was never your strong suit.”

The heroine’s friend, now red-faced and flustered beyond belief, grabbed the second male lead by the arm and yanked him toward the door. “This isn’t over,” she spat, glaring at you. “We’ll see who’s laughing when the heroine—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved dismissively, “when the heroine what? Realizes she’s been pining for someone who can't tell mustard from elegance? Trust me, I’m not worried.”

With that, they both stormed out, slamming the door behind them in a huff of embarrassment and frustration. The second they were gone, you let out a breath and sank back into your chair, grinning at Vil, who was now openly smiling.

“You really didn’t hold back, did you?” Vil said, his amusement evident despite his usual calm demeanor. “I don’t approve of such… crude insults, but I must admit—” his lips twitched— “it was rather effective.”

Epel, still recovering from his laughing fit, managed to haul himself back into his seat, wiping tears from his eyes. “That was… that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said between gasps for air. “I can’t believe ya said that right to their faces!”

“Glad to be of service,” you said with a grin, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d actually said all of that out loud. But judging by Vil’s pleased expression and Epel’s ongoing laughter, it had been worth it.

Maybe surviving this trash novel wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You’d barely had time to process how bizarrely normal your life as the villain’s fiancée had become when the next absurd isekai plot point decided to rear its ugly, trope-filled head again.

It all started at yet another lavish tea party. Honestly, you’d begun to lose track of how many of these events you were forced to attend. They all blurred together into a haze of polite smiles, floral patterns, and far too much sugar.

This time, you were seated next to Vil, who, as always, looked like he had just stepped out of a renaissance painting. You, on the other hand, were trying not to spill tea on the new dress he’d insisted you wear. The dress itself was lovely, of course—Vil had impeccable taste—but the whole setting made you feel like you were constantly walking on eggshells. Especially since she was here. The heroine.

Today, though, you were determined to get through it without any drama. Just smile, nod, and let the heroine do her thing. Easy, right?

Wrong.

Everything had been going smoothly, too. The heroine, in all her sunshiney glory, was seated at the table, surrounded by her usual group of admirers. You had been doing a great job of fading into the background until someone—the hostess, perhaps?—brought up your previous adventures.

“Oh, didn’t you once accompany the Grand Duke to deal with that bandit problem on the eastern border?” the hostess asked, fanning herself with interest. “What a thrilling ordeal!”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the weight of too many eyes on you. “Well, I wouldn’t say thrilling exactly…” you began, trying to downplay it, but your nerves had other ideas. “I mean, the heroine here was probably off rescuing some poor lost puppy while I was just, you know, holding down the real danger.”

The air went cold.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. The table fell silent, save for the quiet clinking of teacups being set down. Every eye was on you. The heroine’s wide, eyes blinked at you, full of hurt and confusion. And across from you, the second male lead—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding—looked like he was ready to leap across the table and strangle you on the spot.

Oh no. Oh no no no. Why did you leave your filter at home?

You opened your mouth to apologize, but before you could, the second male lead slammed his cup down on the table, the porcelain rattling ominously. “You dare insult her honor?!” he roared, rising from his seat like some kind of vengeful storm cloud. “I will not stand for this!”

*Why did I say that?* You cringed internally, face turning a bright shade of crimson. "I-it was a joke—"

“No,” he declared dramatically, pointing a finger at you. “I demand satisfaction! A duel for her honor!”

You were still too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to make sense of the situation. A duel? Over this? All you’d implied was that the heroine wasn’t exactly… battle-hardened. Surely that wasn’t duel-worthy? This man was acting like you’d called his mother a turnip or something worse.

The heroine, ever the epitome of grace, tried to intervene. “There’s no need for—”

But Mr. Broody wasn’t having it. “No! Her honor has been besmirched, and I shall defend it with my life!”

Vil, who had been watching this spectacle unfold with an expression of mild disgust, finally rose from his chair. His cool gaze swept over the table, landing on the second male lead with all the intensity of a snake about to strike.

“If anyone’s honor has been besmirched,” Vil said icily, “it’s mine. And I will not allow my betrothed to be disrespected by the likes of you.”

You blinked up at Vil, stunned. “Wait, you’re going to duel him? Yourself?”

Vil turned his piercing gaze to you, and though his face remained calm, there was a glimmer of something softer in his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “I would never entrust such a matter to anyone else. Besides…” His lips curled into a smirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve put an upstart in his place.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed. Was it getting hot in here?

The second male lead, apparently unaware of just how screwed he was, smirked triumphantly. “Very well! Let’s settle this once and for all.”

The duel was set for the next day in your estate gardens. You spent the time leading up to it pacing back and forth in your chambers, wringing your hands in nervous anticipation. Somewhere along the way, you’d decided that you needed to do something—anything—to support Vil. So you had spent hours learning how to embroider a handkerchief, your fingers aching from the effort. By the time you finished, you were practically shaking, but you were proud of the result.

You didn’t expect Vil to be touched, let alone notice that you’d worked so hard. But when you handed him the handkerchief just before the duel, his eyes widened in surprise.

“You made this?” he asked, holding it delicately between his fingers, as if it were some priceless artifact.

You nodded sheepishly. “I figured, you know, for luck. Or to rub it in his face after you beat him. Whichever.”

Vil chuckled, his usually sharp expression softening. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low. He then noticed the small needle marks on your hands and frowned. “You hurt yourself.”

You quickly hid your hands behind your back. “It’s nothing! I mean, I’m fine. Just a few pricks here and there.”

Vil’s expression softened even further, and for a moment, he looked almost… touched. He carefully tucked the handkerchief into his coat pocket, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll be sure to put this to good use.”

You didn’t swoon. Well, maybe just a little.

The duel was, in a word, ridiculous.

The second male lead strutted around like a peacock, his sword gleaming in the afternoon sunlight as he swung it dramatically for the small crowd that had gathered. “Prepare yourself, Schoenheit!” he bellowed, pointing his sword at Vil.

Vil, on the other hand, looked utterly unimpressed. He barely glanced at the man before calmly removing his coat and handing it to you. “Hold this, will you?”

You took the coat with a nod, trying not to pass out from how effortlessly graceful he looked even in the midst of preparing for a fight.

The second male lead lunged forward with all the finesse of a drunken ox, his sword clashing loudly against Vil’s. For a moment, it looked like a real duel—until Vil, with a single fluid motion, disarmed the man in one clean strike. The second male lead’s sword went flying, landing in the bushes several feet away with a pathetic thud.

The crowd gasped, and you had to stifle a laugh. It had barely been five seconds, and the duel was already over.

The second male lead stood there, stunned, his hand frozen mid-air where his sword had been. He blinked once, twice, then turned bright red with embarrassment. “W-what?!”

Vil, ever composed, didn’t even break a sweat. He sheathed his sword and gave the man a cold, dismissive look. “This duel is over. Consider your demand for satisfaction... fulfilled. Now, kindly leave before you embarrass yourself further.”

You bit your lip, trying not to giggle as the second male lead sputtered and tried to come up with an excuse, but it was clear to everyone that he had been utterly humiliated. Even the heroine, standing off to the side, looked like she was struggling to keep a straight face.

As the second male lead stumbled off, defeated, Vil turned to you and offered his hand. “Shall we go?”

You took his hand, still trying to process how easily he had won. “You were amazing,” you blurted out, your heart fluttering as you gazed up at him. “Seriously, that was… wow.”

Vil smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Of course I was.” He then leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And I expect a proper reward later for defending your honor.”

Your face went beet red, and you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe.

Yep, you thought as he led you away, his hand still in yours, surviving this trash novel might not be so bad after all.

It happened at one of those overly extravagant banquets the royal court liked to throw. You spotted Neige from across the room, all bright eyes and an innocent smile. He was the epitome of purity, as if his very presence could summon woodland creatures to frolic at his feet.

And you hated him on sight.

You watched in disbelief as everyone around him melted into puddles of admiration. He was practically glowing, and his overly cheerful, squeaky voice was grating on your ears.

The overly saccharine male lead stood there, looking like a cross between a baby bunny and a sentient cupcake. Everything about him screamed "pure-hearted." You nearly gagged on your drink, hoping no one noticed your grimace.

Vil noticed your sour expression and leaned in. “Is something the matter?”

“That’s him, isn’t it?” you said through clenched teeth. “The one I used to follow around?”

Vil followed your gaze, and for a moment, his lips twitched in the faintest show of amusement. “Yes. That’s Neige.”

You snorted. "I can't believe anyone in their right mind would prefer him over you."

Vil's lips curled into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Is that so?” His voice was silky, dangerously low, but you could see the flash of satisfaction behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you muttered, still glaring in Neige's direction. “I mean, look at him. He’s so… good. And not in a ‘wow, what a decent person’ way. It’s like he’s one bad haircut away from sprouting fairy wings and breaking into song.”

Vil let out a low chuckle, right next to you ear, (Lord, have mercy) the sound sending shivers down your spine. “I never thought I’d hear you speak this way about him. You’ve been fawning over Neige for as long as I can remember.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up. “That was the old me. The dumb me. I mean, have you seen you?” You gestured dramatically toward him. “How could anyone even look at Neige when you exist?”

Vil was quiet for a moment, watching you intently. His violet eyes glinted with something unreadable, but you could tell he was pleased. Oh, he was very pleased.

“You certainly have changed,” he murmured, the smirk never leaving his lips. “And I must admit, I find it rather… delightful.”

Before you could respond, a very familiar voice rang out from behind you. “Ah! What a beautiful reunion this is! A moment filled with l’amour, sparkling like the stars in the sky!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Rook Hunt appeared seemingly out of thin air, his hands dramatically clasped together as he beamed at you both. “I have seen many couples in my lifetime, but none quite so radiant as you two.”

You blinked, trying to recover from his sudden appearance. “Rook… were you just… hiding in the curtains again?”

Rook, ever the dramatist, placed a hand on his heart and smiled wistfully. “Ah, but how could I stay away when the beauty of your love draws me in like a moth to a flame?”

Vil raised an eyebrow. “Rook, you’re not helping.”

“Non, non, mon ami,” Rook insisted, twirling in place with a flourish. “I am merely basking in the glow of what is surely a love for the ages! The way your eyes meet, the subtle tension in the air—it is magnifique!”

You sighed, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but chuckle at Rook’s antics. Meanwhile, from the other side of the ballroom, Epel was watching the scene unfold with barely concealed amusement. He caught your eye and shot you a grin, raising his glass as if to say, Good luck with this.

But the fun wasn’t over. Oh no. Neige, the human embodiment of a children’s choir, started making his way toward you. As he approached, his bright eyes locked on yours, his smile so innocent and wide that you almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

Almost.

“Good evening!” Neige greeted you, his voice as sweet as sugar. “I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to properly meet.”

You stared at him for a moment, unimpressed. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

Neige blinked, clearly taken aback by your lack of enthusiasm. He probably wasn’t used to people not immediately falling at his feet. “It’s truly wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You squinted at him. “Mm-hmm.”

Vil, standing beside you, looked positively elated. You could practically feel the smug energy radiating off of him. He wasn’t even hiding his smile anymore.

Neige continued, oblivious to your complete disinterest. “I’m so glad we’ll have the chance to spend time together in the coming months! I hope we can—”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” you interrupted, turning away and pointedly ignoring his very existence.

Neige blinked again, looking like a lost puppy. You almost felt a little bad. Almost.

Vil, on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early. His arm slipped around your waist, his touch gentle. “I must say,” he murmured into your ear, his voice laced with amusement, “I’ve never enjoyed one of these balls quite so much.”

Yup, maybe this novel isn't that trashy after all?

Everytime you think this novel might not be that bad, it manages to prove you wrong.

The day had finally arrived: the Founding Day Ball. The event to end all events, where the kingdom’s most distinguished were honored in a grand ceremony. And, of course, at the top of the list of honorees was Vil, who might as well have been carved into the actual history of the kingdom itself with how perfect he was.

As his partner for the evening, you were dressed to the nines, dripping in elegance you didn’t even know you were capable of. When you caught your reflection in one of the massive ballroom mirrors, you had to do a double-take.

"Who is that?" you whispered, eyes wide. "Oh. It’s me."

Honestly, if there was a chance of impressing anyone here, you were impressed with yourself.

The ceremony went as expected. Vil was awarded the highest honors, his name met with thunderous applause as he gave a speech that left the crowd swooning. You found yourself half-clapping, half-gawking, wondering how this man kept getting more perfect. Like, was he actually human?

But as the evening progressed, the dreaded scene you despised the most crept into the evening, like a bad smell at a gourmet dinner.

After the ceremony, it was time for the opening dance. Naturally, Vil, being the epitome of grace and nobility, was the prime candidate to lead it. You were fully expecting him to ask you, but before he could even turn in your direction, the heroine — yes, that heroine — appeared out of nowhere, like she was materializing straight from the pages of the worst romance novel ever written.

“Vil,” she said in a voice that sounded like honey and broken promises, “I trust you’ll grant me the honor of the first dance.”

You blinked. *Excuse me?*

She said it so confidently, as if it were a foregone conclusion, like she was used to the world revolving around her whims. It was the equivalent of someone just cutting the line in front of you at the store and expecting applause for their audacity.

Vil, for his part, didn’t even flinch. His expression was as cool and elegant as ever, but you could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m afraid,” he said, voice smooth and polite, “I already have a partner for the first dance.”

The heroine’s face froze in a way that almost made you choke on your own breath. “W-What?” She blinked rapidly, as if her brain couldn’t process the fact that someone had just told her no.

You, too, were a little stunned, for a seperate. Was she actually planning on throwing a tantrum right now? In public? At a literal state function?

“B-But you always dance with me,” she stammered, voice rising in disbelief, her face turning an alarming shade of pink. “I’m supposed to be your first dance!”

You physically had to stop yourself from snorting. Always? He has never even looked at her for longer than five seconds! You couldn't recall a single time Vil had given her anything beyond basic pleasantries. The only reason she’d be in his line of sight was because she was constantly putting herself there.

Vil’s lips twitched slightly, though whether it was out of irritation or amusement, you couldn’t tell. “I don’t recall ever dancing with you,” he said calmly, as though she were discussing someone else entirely.

The heroine blinked, clearly taken aback. “W-What?”

Vil’s voice dropped to an even icier tone, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “In fact, I dislike the very idea of it.”

The heroine made a strangled sound behind you, like a baby bird trying to scream.

You looked around the room, half-expecting hidden cameras to pop out, because this had to be a prank. Who acts like this?!

And as you floated onto the dance floor with Vil, you couldn’t help but marvel at the absolute insufferable nature of the scene you’d just witnessed. This was, without a doubt, the moment that solidified your hatred for the trash-tier novel world you’d been trapped in. People like her actually existed here?

Behind you, the heroine stomped her foot like a petulant child, completely ignored by the crowd. It would’ve been almost sad if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

And as you twirled under the chandeliers, feeling Vil’s warmth beside you and the heroine’s tantrum echoing faintly in the background, one thing became crystal clear:

This novel may have been trash, but at least you were the one dancing with the prince of perfection.

It hit you like a ton of bricks one day—completely out of nowhere. You had been sitting in Vil’s study, watching him work. He was meticulously going over some documents, his brow furrowed in concentration, his golden hair falling perfectly in place despite him having been there for hours. You were supposed to be reading through some kingdom protocol book, but instead, your gaze kept drifting over to him.

He’s so… beautiful.

You blinked, the thought suddenly snapping you out of whatever trance you’d fallen into.

Wait…

Your eyes widened. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

You slammed the book shut, startling Vil from his work as you stood up abruptly. “I-I need some air.”

Vil raised an elegant eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “Something the matter?”

“No! Nothing’s the matter!” you said, far too quickly, your voice an octave higher than usual. You stumbled over your chair in your haste to get out of the room, nearly tripping on your own feet. “I just—need to—um—fresh air, yes, exactly!”

Before Vil could say anything else, you bolted from the study and down the hall, your heart racing as though you’d just run a marathon. You darted into the nearest empty room and pressed your back against the door, your mind swirling with confusion.

Am I falling for him?

You slapped a hand over your mouth, horrified by the realization. “No… no, this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I’m in love with a character from this awful, brain-numbing novel?”

You slumped against the door, groaning as the full weight of the situation sank in. How could this happen? How could my first true love— you gagged at the phrase —be from this trash novel?

There was no escaping it now. The butterflies in your stomach every time Vil looked your way, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled, the fact that you wanted nothing more than to be close to him… it was all painfully obvious.

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die of embarrassment in this ridiculous world.”

And the worst part? It wasn’t even one of the good isekai novels. You’d somehow gotten stuck in what could be considered objectively the worst one, and yet here you were, head over heels for a character who—against all odds—turned out to be the most amazing person you’d ever met.

“Oh god,” you muttered to yourself, sliding down to the floor, your head falling back against the door with a thud. “I'm in love with Vil. I’m doomed. Completely doomed.”

“Mon Dieu! What a revelation!” a voice suddenly rang out from the shadows.

You yelped, whipping around to see none other than Rook Hunt—perched in the corner of the room like some kind of overly dramatic bird of prey, his hat casting a mysterious shadow over his eyes. His entire being radiated excitement, and you swore you saw actual sparkles in the air around him.

“Rook?! How long have you been there?!”

“Long enough, my dear,” he said, voice hushed with reverence, as though you had just confessed your deepest, most tragic secret. “Ah, love! The torment, the longing! The exquisite despair you must be feeling!” He took a step forward, eyes gleaming with unbridled enthusiasm. “But fear not, mon ami, for I, Rook Hunt, shall be your faithful cupid! Together, we shall make Vil see the truth of your affections!”

You blinked, stunned. “Uh… I’m not sure that’s—"

“Ah, but you must!" Rook declared, swooping down to kneel dramatically before you. “Love, once realized, must be pursued with all one’s passion and determination! Do not let this opportunity slip through your fingers like sand in the wind! I shall assist you!”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sheer intensity of his expression made you falter. Rook was looking at you like this was the most important mission of his life.

Honestly, what did you have to lose at this point?

With a deep, exhausted sigh, you muttered, “Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. Help me, Rook.”

Rook’s grin stretched so wide it was borderline terrifying. “Excellent! This will be an adventure for the ages!” Before you could even process what you’d agreed to, Rook leaped to his feet and clapped his hands together. “But we will need more help. A certain someone with a youthful spirit and just enough mischievousness to add that je ne sais quoi to our plans.”

Oh no.

Cue Epel.

“What the hell are you ropin’ me into?” Epel grumbled as Rook dragged him into your predicament not five minutes later.

“I have volunteered you for a most noble cause, mon petit pomme,” Rook said, not even breaking stride as he swept Epel into the room. “Our dear friend here is head over heels for our Vil, and we are going to help them win his heart”

Epel paused, blinking at you in disbelief. “Wait, Vil? That Vil?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of where Vil’s office was.

“Yes, that Vil,” you said flatly, already regretting every life decision that had led you to this point.

Epel gave you a dubious look. “And you agreed to let Rook help you?”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, fine. I’m in.” Epel shrugged, a wicked grin creeping onto his face. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it big.”

Thus began the most absurd, over-the-top, and borderline catastrophic schemes in an attempt to prove your love to Vil Schoenheit.

It started innocently enough. You wanted to make Vil his favorite tea. Simple, right? But Rook insisted that it couldn’t just be any tea. No, it had to be presented with an air of mystery and allure.

“Bring it to him while reciting a sonnet of devotion!” Rook suggested. “Declare your admiration with each step, so that he understands the depth of your feelings!”

“I’m not reciting a sonnet, Rook.”

Epel, on the other hand, was far more pragmatic. “Or you could just… write him a note and leave it with the tea?”

That seemed normal. Rational. You’d take Epel’s advice. So, you snuck into Vil’s room, left the tea and a note on his desk, and slipped out before anyone noticed.

The next morning, Vil eyed you suspiciously over breakfast. “Did you leave tea in my study last night?”

You nodded, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but you swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “I see. How thoughtful.”

Then came Operation: Compliment Vil at Every Opportunity.

Rook, of course, insisted you be poetic. “Tell him his beauty rivals the very stars in the sky!”

“I’m not saying that.”

Epel chimed in with a much more straightforward approach: “Just tell him his hair looks nice. It’s always nice.”

But Rook’s enthusiasm was contagious, and before you knew it, you found yourself blurting out, “Your radiance is blinding today, Vil! Truly, I must shield my eyes from such ethereal beauty!”

Vil, who had been in the middle of inspecting his reflection, froze. His eyes darted to you, and he gave you a strange look.

“Are you… feeling alright? Did you perhaps get bitten by a stray Rook?”

You shook your head vigorously, your face heating up from how ridiculous you sounded. “Totally fine! Just… appreciating your beauty! Yep. Normal stuff.”

Vil didn’t say anything, but you could see a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked amused—and maybe a little pleased—but more than anything, he seemed confused.

At least he didn’t think you’d lost your mind. Yet.

You were convinced this novel had it out for you from the beginning, but this? This was a new low. The memory loss trope, the final attempt to make your life as ridiculous as possible, had arrived—right on schedule.

You knew how it was supposed to go. You’d hit your head (a complete accident, obviously), wake up with no memory of Vil, and immediately make the worst decisions possible, like falling for that knockoff prince, Neige. Cue dramatic heartbreak, public humiliation, and eventual abandonment. Classic trashy novel shenanigans.

But apparently, the universe—or whatever cosmic force was in charge of your suffering—had decided to take a vacation after all the work it had been putting in. Because when you opened your eyes and saw Vil leaning over you, worry etched into his perfect face, instead of forgetting him, you were… immediately smitten?

What?

And it didn’t stop there. When he took your hand in his, gently kissing your knuckles in that heartbreakingly tender way, it was like a light switch flipped. Your memories came rushing back, completely bypassing the whole convoluted plot about amnesia and bad decisions.

Because of course in this disaster of a novel, the solution to everything was true love's kiss. The most overdone, eye-rolling cliché in the history of romance, and yet here you were, living through it.

You almost laughed out loud. Of all the tropes this novel had thrown at you—evil fiancées, jealous heroines, duels for honor—this had to be the funniest. It was as if the universe had taken one look at your situation and said, “You know what? Let’s skip the suffering and go straight to the ridiculous happy ending.”

True love’s kiss. Really. This novel is mocking me at this point, you thought, fighting the urge to scream. But hey, at least you didn’t have to deal with more drama. And as Vil’s concerned gaze softened into a relieved smile, you couldn’t help but think that, maybe, this was one trope you didn’t mind after all.

You'd almost given up on confessing. Maybe you'll just live like this forever, your fate was sealed. The novel clearly doesn't want you to tell him how you feel.

But there was another ball (because apparently that's the only place that nobility had be at in this novel. What was this? the 108th ball of the year?) You'd decided that you'll ask him for a stroll under the moonlight and just tell him.

Of course, the novel is not on your side. What's new?

The ball was going well—well, for you and Vil, anyway. You’d just finished dancing, and he looked absolutely stunning, as usual. You were basking in the afterglow of all the whispered praise and envious stares. That is, until you overheard someone bad-mouthing Vil.

Of course, it had to be the heroine’s best friend, who was apparently using this grand occasion to air her grievances.

“I just don’t understand why Vil is always so cold to her,” she whined, loud enough for everyone within a three-mile radius to hear. “She’s the saintess! She deserves kindness and adoration, not disdain.”

Cue the dramatic gasps from the crowd. Ah, here we go.

You shot Vil a look, but he merely shrugged, rolling his eyes. He clearly didn’t want to start any trouble. But you? Oh, you were about to flip the table on these idiots.

“Excuse me,” you began, stepping forward, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as you made your way over. “I couldn’t help but overhear your incredibly loud complaints about my fiancé.”

The heroine’s best friend froze, clearly not expecting you to get involved. You smiled sweetly, but your eyes were throwing daggers.

“Let me set the record straight. Vil isn’t cold to her because she’s the ‘saintess,’” you air-quoted the title, “He’s cold to her because she’s an insufferable brat who’s so used to getting her way that she throws a tantrum every time someone says ‘no.’”

More gasps from the crowd. You could see Neige stiffening across the ballroom, already sensing where this was going. But there was no stopping you now.

“And don’t get me started on you,” you pointed at the best friend, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re out here defending her honor like you’re some knight in shining armor when, let’s be real, you’re just as bad. You fawn over her like a lost puppy, expecting her to shower you with praise when all you do is enable her delusions.”

Vil, somewhere behind you, was probably trying not to laugh. But you weren't done.

“And as for your precious Neige over there?” you tilted your head toward the prince-wannabe, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “He’s not some perfect angel either. He’s just a guy with an unsettling talent for showing up at the most convenient times, with that same doe-eyed, clueless expression, making everyone feel sorry for him.”

You didn’t stop at Neige.

"And as for you," you said, spinning toward the brooding Duke of the North, the infamous second male lead, who had been leaning against a pillar, looking every bit the tall, tormented, handsome cliché. “You’re not fooling anyone either. You’re the king of melodramatic entrances. Always lurking in the shadows, trying to look mysterious, but really, you’re just sulking because no one’s paying attention to you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—are you brooding? Again? Let me guess, you’re thinking about some dark secret that you’ll drop at the most inconvenient moment to make things worse for everyone, right?” You mimicked his deep, serious voice. “‘It’s the burden I must bear… alone.’” You threw your head back in mock agony, hands dramatically placed on your chest.

He straightened up, clearly offended, but you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And stop pretending like you’re some tragic hero,” you added, lowering your voice with a sharp edge. “You’re just a guy with commitment issues who sacrifices himself because you can’t handle the fact that the heroine doesn’t want you. Let it go.”

There was dead silence. You half-expected a chandelier to drop just for the dramatic effect. Even Vil had to look away for a moment, probably to hide the fact that he in tears, about to burst out laughing.

The heroine was slack-jawed, her best friend looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, and Neige… well, Neige just looked confused. As always.

Satisfied, you dusted off your hands and turned back to Vil, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and awe, as if he’d just witnessed some divine intervention.

You let out a satisfied huff and turned to leave. "Come on, Vil, I can't stand to be in the same room as these second-rate characters any longer, let's bounce"

Once outside, you saw Vil was still recovering, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think you may have traumatized half the ballroom.”

“Good,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “They deserved it. Especially that brooding Duke. ‘I sacrifice myself for the greater good.’ Ugh, give me a break.”

Vil chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. "Still, you didn’t have to go to such lengths for me."

You stopped in your tracks, spun around, and looked him dead in the eye. “Of course I did! I love you, Vil. I couldn’t just sit there and let them trash you like that.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. Oh. Well. There it was.

Vil’s eyes widened, a rare, unguarded expression crossing his face. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in your words. Then, without a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, soft but sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had.

When he pulled back, his smile was the softest you’d ever seen. “You love me,” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, a bit breathless from both the confession and the kiss. “Yes, Vil. I love you. Even with all your ridiculously high standards and obsession with skincare.”

Vil laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Vil pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist, and asked with a quiet, almost teasing tone, "Well then, since you love me so much... should we get married?"

You blinked, your brain taking a second to catch up. "Wait—what? Married? Like, right now?" You stared at him, heart racing, before suddenly, an idea lit up your face like a firework. “Oh my god, yes! Let’s do it. Let’s get married ASAP. Like, today. Right now. Do we even need a ceremony? We can find an officiant and—boom—done. Just tell me where to sign!”

Vil’s eyes widened, taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm. “Are you… serious?”

You grabbed his hand, absolutely buzzing with energy. “Of course, I’m serious! Why wait? This dumbass universe keeps throwing garbage tropes at us, and honestly? Getting married right now is the perfect way to flip the script! Take that, fate!"

Before Vil could respond, an overly excited voice erupted from behind a nearby pillar. “Oh là là! Mon cœur can hardly handle this romance!” Rook leaped out from the shadows, practically sparkling with joy, as if he had been waiting for this very moment all his life. "The passion! The declaration of love! And now, a spontaneous wedding? Magnifique!”

“Rook!?” Vil’s voice was a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Have you been spying on us?”

“Spying?” Rook gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Non, non, Vil! I was merely ensuring your well-being as any devoted friend would!” He gave a wink, clearly pleased with his role as an unintended audience.

“Me too!” Epel poked his head out from behind another pillar, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, who’d wanna miss out on somethin’ like this? Y’all are gettin’ married!”

Vil let out a long, tired sigh, but you could see the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered.

“Oh, it’s happening,” you said, grabbing his arm again and dragging him forward. “We’re doing this, and it’s going to be the best wedding in this entire stupid book, Rook, Epel, you’re both invited. Wait, scratch that, you’re both in the wedding party now!”

“C’est incroyable!” Rook twirled dramatically, hands clasped together, already imagining his outfit for the occasion. “I shall be the most loyal and stylish groomsman! Oh, l’amour!”

“And I get to wear somethin’ fancy, right?” Epel asked, already envisioning something much cooler than his usual attire.

Vil was now fully grinning, his initial surprise turning into genuine amusement as he looked at you with sparkling eyes. “You really are something else.”

“Yeah, and now I’m gonna be your something else forever.” You beamed up at him, still holding onto his hand like you might drag him to the altar yourself right now.

“Well then,” Vil sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Let’s get married.”

Before you could even start plotting where to drag Vil to find someone to officiate, Rook suddenly gasped, clasping his hands together dramatically. "Mon dieu! How could I forget? I am more than prepared for this moment!"

You and Vil exchanged puzzled looks. "What are you talking about, Rook?" Vil asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Rook grinned, remviong his hat and and dramatically pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "Behold!" he announced, waving the paper with a flourish. "A certified license to officiate weddings. I took the liberty of acquiring it long ago, knowing that one day I’d be the one to unite you and your beloved. C’est le destin!"

“You’re… licensed?” Vil blinked, looking at Rook like he had officially lost it. "And you're walking around with the license in your hat?"

Rook nodded with a dazzling smile. “Why yes, I’ve been preparing for this glorious day! Every flower petal, every gust of wind, every glance of love I’ve witnessed between you both has been leading to this fated moment!” He struck a pose, the parchment still dramatically held aloft.

You stared at him, then back at Vil. "Okay, I know this is ridiculous, but honestly? This is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, and I kind of love it. Let's just let him do it."

Vil put a hand to his forehead, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Are we really doing this?"

“Yes!” you declared, squeezing Vil's hand. “If we’re going full chaos, we’re going all the way. Rook, officiate the hell out of this wedding!”

Epel, watching the entire spectacle, burst into laughter. “Only in this house, I swear…”

Rook practically sparkled with joy, bouncing on his feet. “Oh là là, it will be my greatest honor! I’ve been rehearsing my officiating speech in front of the mirror for months”

“Months?” Vil repeated, a mix of disbelief and exasperation in his tone.

“Mais oui! Every day, I’d wake up and say, ‘Today could be the day!’” Rook sighed dramatically, already tearing up. “And here we are. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Now, shall we begin? I have the vows prepared, unless you have your own?”

You leaned into Vil, barely holding back laughter. “I have zero regrets about this. Absolutely zero.”

Vil sighed again but couldn’t stop smiling. “Only you could make something this absurd seem perfect.”

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Okay, this became way longer than I expected it to be but to be fair, i was on an extreme caffeine high and i'd just finished an assignment that had been beating my ass